#and was passed down to him by his father by his father before him

[joeloverture]

deadfall | enemy!j.m. x f!reader

masterlist | notifs blog | on palestine

pairing: dad’s enemy!joel miller x f!reader summary: joel miller, rival raiders with your father, is the last person you expect to save you from the group that captured you. he’s also the last person you expect to sleep with. [post outbreak] warnings: (mdni) canon typical violence (stalkers, mentions of death), porn with plot, game or tv joel, reader born before the outbreak, reader has a present/loving father figure (HAH), alternate universe — joel never went to boston, implied age gap but how big is up to you, self indulgent humor, quicksand, explicit smut, reader is a biiiit of a peeping tom, close proximity, only one bed, (brief) accidental somnophilia so dubcon, dry humping, degradation, humiliation, mirror sex, unprotected piv (he’s snipped dw), doggy style, manhandling (he fucks you in a headlock), mild breath play & choking, brief hair pulling (reader has hair!), scratching/biting, brief orgasm denial, hatefuck [no use of y/n] word count: 9.5k author's note: pwplot! a joeloverture first. also my first foray into somno! and post!ob joel! lots of firsts here. special thanks to @joelsdagger for taking a glimpse at this for me (and for being the PIONEER that forged joel fucking in a headlock) and @lovesickonmybed for being the best sounding board ever. i hope y'all like this one, i sure do.

There are no infected in the swamp — not this far out. They prefer the slant of buildings or the maw of split pavement. Blood-bloated leeches and black-trunked cypresses aren’t their domain.

You can’t say you blame them. One day in, and you’re already sick of this shit.

A few gnats have flown up your nostrils as you wade through the ankle-deep sludge. Mist curls at the edges of your vision. Your feet keep slipping on the slime covered stones that are half-submerged in the deep. Sweat crystallizes on your nape as your toe catches on a downed branch.

Before you faceplant in the sludge below, a burly hand snags your collar and hauls you up. “You always this much of a klutz?” It’s the first few words he’s said to you in hours.

A scowl buckles your lips. You shove Joel Miller’s arm off your back, splashing up scummy water as you step over the branch this time. You say nothing — don’t even dignify him with a passing glance.

“You’re a real peach, ain’t ya?” Joel says. When he takes his next step, water splashes at the backs of your calves. “Save your ass and this is the thanks I get.”

Joel Miller doesn’t want thanks. Up until he accidentally burnt his thumb with boiling hot coffee yesterday, you’d been convinced he didn’t feel anything at all. As long as his pulse is woven between bullets and stab wounds, he doesn’t give a damn what happens to those around him. His heart, much like the rest of the people at the end of the world, is calcified. Only beating out of necessity.

You’re silent as you footslog forward. The slurp of mud stretches between your shoe and the ground. Your pack jostles against your back. The ache in your bones has proven to be a better company than Joel – at least that is tolerable.

A deadfall lays flat ahead, a tree with cambered branches that droop with moss. Joel cups a hand over his eyes to block out the sun and squints past.

You go to walk past him, around the deadfall.

“Nuh uh,” Joel tugs you back by the scruff. You grunt. “‘S deeper out there. I’d sure like to see you get swallowed up by a gator, but that doesn’t work for me, kid.”

It sure works for you. If you see one of their bumpy snouts protruding out of the water, you’re using him as bait.

You don’t say that, though. Just hitch your foot up over one of the branches in the tree and start to haul yourself up. It’s a nagging ordeal – full of hissing through your teeth and feeling wood tear small cuts into your skin. Your hand tangles in an unoccupied spiderweb before you toss yourself through the other side of the bramble. Water sluices around you as you right yourself, rubbing a bead of blood from one of your knuckles.

Joel’s quick to follow, even quicker to take front again. You’ve learned he likes being ahead of you — unless you’re climbing a ledge or a fallen oak.

The hours wear on. You refuse to be the first to call it for the day. Even when you get stinging salt water into your open cuts, you grin and bear it. When the sun lounges on the chaise of the tree-sketch horizon, he drops his pack on an island of mulch that’s nestled in a grove of dead vegetation. 

You slump down next to him, rifling through your pack for a bite of jerky. Joel’s knees pop. He grunts as he slips down into the dirt and unrolls his sleeping bag. He rolls over, facing away from you. Hand wrapped around his gun like it’s a lover. 

When you do the same, it’s with a barbed insult on your tongue that’s better left unspoken.

At the end of the world, everything is ruleless. But you grew up with exactly one rule: don’t talk about Joel Miller.

You hadn’t been expecting him to kill you.

The Cockroaches, the lesser raider group in Northeast Texas, had captured you. Apparently your dad had some unpaid debts, and in taking you as leverage, they’d intended to get close to him. All they got were bullets in their heads.

You’d sighed in relief when the hatch to your basement confinement had finally opened. A spillage of sun sliced down through the opening, and you were expecting the familiar warmth of your father, an apology, and reassurance that he wouldn’t let them take you again.

Instead, you got Joel. With his hulking gun, broad figure that blocked out the sun, and the scowl that would be the last thing you’d ever see.

You had fumbled against the post you were tied to, feet scrabbling against the floor. You’d winced away when he raised his knife. “Don’t–”

…And cut into your restraints.

You’d rubbed the chafing from your wrists and stared at him, nebulous and delirious. “Get the fuck away from me,” you’d croaked.

“They touch you?” he’d asked. You’d shaken your head. “Hurt ya?” Another shake.

“Good. Now get up and get ready to haul ass.” He turned around, but not before throwing his knife to the ground next to you. The clatter it made against the concrete made your ears ring.

You grabbed the knife.

“Why are you helping me?” you ask him. They’re the only words you’ve spoken since you’d seen him in the cellar. 

“I ain’t,” he says. His voice is gruff. Sandpapery. 

“Looks like helping,” you say, nodding at the pack he’d given you. He’d come out prepared. To get you.

“Your daddy ain’t the only one with debts,” he says.

You stop, booted feet sinking into the mud. Shit. “So that’s what this is. You take me away just to hand me off to some other shitty group?”

“Yeah,” he says with a shrug. He turns around, already mid-stride.

You yank his knife out of your pocket and dive at him.

“Hey, hey, fuck – you little brat,” he spats. He goes off balance before he twists around. You corral him against a tree, leg hitching around his waist as you knee at his thighs, aiming for his crotch. His spittle sprays your cheek as he grunts. His fist wraps around your hand, and the knife splats into the mud. His booted heel slips and he goes sliding back as he shoves you away, hard. You cough as you slam into a tree trunk. The knot that swells out of the bark digs into your head. You drag a branch up off the ground, pushing yourself off the tree as you heft it.

Before you grab it, he slaps you. Hard. Your head goes spinning as you stumble back into the muck. He jams his boot down against your chest, mud smearing across your tank top. “I gotta tie you up, or you gonna fuckin’ listen to me?”

You reach up to grab his ankle, and he just stomps harder against your chest. You wheeze, flopping back in the sludge. “B-bastard,” you hiss.

“Yeah, yeah, shut the hell up. ‘S your dad’s shitty group I’m talkin’ about.”

You give him an incredulous look.

“Your old man ain’t the only one with a coupla debts under his belt.”

“You’re shitting me,” you say. Voice squished in your throat from his tread against your chest.

He shakes his head and finally lets his boot up. You suck in a breath, another cough rattling your ribcage. “Quit being all uppity and pickin’ fights ya can’t win if you wanna learn, dumbass.”

“Why didn’t he just come get me himself?” you grit out as you lean back against a log. You use it to lift yourself, legs feeling gelatinous from being shoved about.

“You didn’t see? Cockroach shot ‘im in the leg.” Your lips tremble, but you straighten them. “He’s fine.”

You scowl. “And you didn’t tell me this sooner?” You march forward. Your arms cross solidly over your chest.

“Figured you wouldn’t take it well.” He looks you up and down. “And I was right.”

You curse under your breath. Dip to grab your knife. Toss it in your hand while you think. You don’t flinch when it slightly nicks your thumb — it’s hardly a poke with all of the scraping you’ve been doing through undergrowth — but Joel smirks. 

He sees you as juvenile. The product of a world that you haven’t earned the right to be in, always cowering behind your dad’s back. 

You’ll prove him wrong.

“How far are we from the nearest city?” you ask. You want to go home. Your arms ache not just from swinging at your side or lifting you up toppled trees, but to wrap around your father. Your bones protest at the thought of being in your skin. Your tank top sticks to your flesh with mud and the parasites that squirm in it.

“I’m not a goddamn fortune teller,” Joel says. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Then we better get moving.” You readjust your pack and jostle him as you march on.

Three days later, and there’s no end in sight to the swamp. Whatever towns you’ve encountered are home to only a derelict gas station and ransacked mom-and-pop stores. They’re no place for pit stops.

You (reluctantly) stay close to Joel, who you’re lucky to hear so much as a murmur out of. Most of the time, he’s redirecting you, tugging you out of the way of half-decade old hunter’s traps or reminding you not to go too far.

“The world isn’t gonna end if I step out of your imaginary line, Joel,” you say. You test your foot on the side of the bank you’re walking on. Nothing happens.

“Ki–” Joel says, brows crunched up.

“See? Fine.” You press more of your weight into the ground. He reaches for you, but your body tilts.

Your foot is sinking.

“You’re a fuckin’ pain in my ass,” Joel says. He pinches his nose bridge. “Shoulda left ya down there.”

You glare at him, bending yourself at the waist so you can try to wiggle yourself with your upper body strength. Your free knee is propped up on the squishy ground. You grunt, palms slipping against the oily, grass-filled mud. “I got it,” you rasp out as he crouches in front of you.

“Uh huh,” he says, frowning pointedly.

“I got it.” You slap his hand away and thresh your leg in the sand. It barely even wiggles. “Fuck.” You strain your leg, huffing and puffing. Dirt fixes itself under your nails.

Joel wraps his arms under your shoulders and you flail in protest. “I said I can handle it!” Instead of listening to you, he tugs at you like pulling a toy from a dog. You keep windmilling your arms.

“Quit thrashin’!” Joel yells. “Any harder and you’re gonna drag me in with you.”

Your face is too close to his. Too close for the uncomfortable heat. His humid breath fans against your sweat-slippery cheek as he groans. Your foot loosens. You prop your calf up on his thigh as he wrests you out of the quicksand. You’re chest-to-chest with him as you tip over the muck, dropping flat against him. “Mmph.”

Joel shoves you off of him, and you fall on your ass in the mud. By all odds, your boot has remained strapped to your foot. He’s already up and moving when he says, “Jesus Christ, you are just like your fuckin’ dad.”

The mud still caked into your shirt has started to flake by the time you reach a city called Monroe. Just off of I-20, you and Joel trek further into what you imagine must’ve been a medium-sized city during its heyday.

You’re bone-weary. Your back keeps popping with every step with how you keep having to sleep on the ground. You’d be thankful for even a mattress of moss — but luckily, you won’t have to settle. Sunset is nearing, which means you can see the blue water (imagine that, blue water) tainted pink and orange below. Houses and the city clocktower reflect into the gentle pull and ebb of the tide.

Joel nods at a half-bent blue roadway sign. “YMCA up ahead,” he says. He wipes the sweat off his brow and clutches his gun closer to his side. “Stay close.”

You keep your hand around the grip of your knife, following him into the city.

It’s quiet as you navigate through a labyrinth of abandoned, rust-gutted cars. At one point, you manage to slip ahead of him, and he allows it for long enough (fifteen seconds) that you opt to take a shortcut through a parking garage. You climb over the edge and dip inside, feet scraping over roots that have grown between concrete slabs. The shade is a brief respite from the scorching sun, but the humidity still wrings the sweat from your pores.

Joel slips ahead of you again, taking long, dragging strides that look as exhausted as you feel. Four days of hiking through swamp and gunk and slapping mosquitoes against your skin has made you grateful to just be walking on solid ground again. Joel steps past a busted, sticker-covered van.

A streak flickers against the dark canopy of the garage. “Infected!” you shout, but Joel falls back on his ass.

His gun flies out of his hand and skids across the concrete. He grunts, shuffling backward, but the stalker’s already on him, its mouth sewn partially shut by fungi. It croaks and slashes at him, blind left eye battering and twitching. Joel throws a hooked punch, but the stalker takes the opportunity to grapple him, snarling in his face.

He’s going to get bit.

You launch forward, knife in-hand. You fling yourself into a tumble with the stalker, legs strewn over Joel’s. Adrenaline plummets through your body. You stomp on its shin and it shrieks. The knife almost slips from your grip as you start to stab blindly. You thrust the blade up through its eye socket.

The thing cackles and caws, its vocal chords clacking with mold and rot. Rusted blood trickles from its nose and down your wrist as you twist the blade further until you meet bone and then whatever is left of a brain is beyond it. You cringe as you drag the knife out and wipe it across your pants. It slumps back in a mound and then falls over.

Your chest heaves as you look between Joel and the stalker. His hands are scraped up as he grabs his gun.

You extend him a hand. He seems to think about it for a second before latching onto you and letting you help him up. He grunts in acknowledgment. “C’mon,” he says. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

This YMCA in particular isn’t like the others you’ve stopped at with your dad. Instead of glass windows and tin roofs, it’s brick and mortar. You and Joel climb in through the window, and you almost sob in relief when you see at least a dozen oversized yoga mats. That’s a suitable homemade mattress, you think. 

There’s a basketball court whose court has been warped and fossilized by the leaks in the roof. A peek of sunset dives in through a hole, lighting up the western side of the room. You expect the pool room to still smell of chlorine. It’s a little weird when it doesn’t even though the pool’s been drained for years, you imagine. From there, you two reach the showers.

Before you let yourself get excited, Joel fiddles with the knobs. Water sprays out of it. “Still hot,” he says, absorbed in the droplets that are spraying his hand. He turns it off.

“Fuck it,” you say, tearing your tank top over your head.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Joel says, turning to face the wall.

“You aren’t the one who’s covered in mud!”

“Yeah, you’re right, I ain’t the one who went jumpin’ into quicksand. I also ain’t the one who deserved an ass whooping.”

You glare at his shoulder blades as you unzip your jeans, fumbling out of them. They’re nearly crunchy with the amount of mud you’ve been traipsing through. “They did charity drives at these things, right?” You never really went to any YMCAs before the world went to shit. “Maybe they’ve got clean clothes.”

“Maybe,” Joel says. “Maybe you shoulda thought about that before you turned this place into a strip club.” You roll your eyes and hook your bra on the shower curtain, followed by your panties.

“I didn’t know you were a prude, Miller,” you say.

He bristles at the accusation. “Maybe I should get an eyeful. Being ‘round you is like wishin’ the Lord would strike me down.”

You laugh. Joel made you laugh. First (and only) time, probably. 

“Yeah, right, you’d get struck down for something a whole lot worse before he started getting mad at you for peeping.”

You fiddle with the shower curtain and step in. There’s old body wash in an automatic dispenser on the wall. It doesn’t work, but it’s easy to wrangle open and squeeze the pouch into your hand. The grout is odd under your bare feet, but quickly becomes familiar as you twist the lever. Water spits down at you, and a satisfied sound leaves you. “Fuuuck,” you sigh. “This is nice.”

Joel clears his throat. “I’m gonna go look for clothes. And deodorant.”

“You should shower too,” you say instead.

You can almost hear the face he makes.

“God, don’t be so much of a Holy Joe, Joel. It’s practical. This water isn’t going to last that damn long, and I am not taking a cold shower when the hot stuff is all right here.”

“You’re a real pain in the ass,” he says like he hasn’t already told you.

Eventually, you hear his belt unbuckle.

He strips down a lot quicker than you. Habit, maybe, you think. His jeans slump against the floor, and then he’s in the shower. You hear the other faucet come on as the water warms against your skin. You sigh, lathering yourself with the Dollar General body wash. It forms iridescent bubbles along your body, and it smells faintly like artificial strawberries. You wonder if it ever used to smell stronger than this.

There’s a slit in Joel’s shower that exists between the curtain and the wall. You should look away, but you shouldn’t have plunged your foot into quicksand, either. There’s many things you shouldn’t do that you take it upon yourself to do anyway.

So you watch the dirty water cascade down his sharp, scarred shoulder. You eye how the gnarl of his bone adjusts as he lathers himself with soapsuds. He stretches to get his hair and his bicep tenses with the movement. He’s built, and built well. From years of survival, trekking through swamps not so different from these, and aiming guns in places he wanted to and places he didn’t. The way the sun flits through the rectangular windows makes him look golden.

You imagine how it’d feel to walk up behind him, to massage the knots out of his sore muscles. You don’t even notice it, but your hands are traveling your own body now, fingertips going to pluck at your pebbled nipples. He’d been rough when tussling with you in the swamp. Would he be rough with you in bed, too? In your mind, you run soft, open-mouthed kisses down his back, reaching your hand between his legs to wrap around his—

A clanging noise stops your hand in its tracks. You drop it limp at your side. A wave of revulsion crawls like insects up your back.

“Shit!” Joel says, fumbling around in his shower stall.

The plastic body wash dispenser goes sliding out under the curtain, foamy with soapsuds.

You can’t help it. You snort. And eventually, your snort becomes full-fledged laughter, breaking the seam of your lips as you lean against the wall of the shower.

“Shut up,” he says, but you hear the tinge of a chuckle embedded between his vowels. You hear his half-huff of laughter before you force yourself to stop giggling.

You two stay under the shower streams until the water runs cold and bitter and all of the mud that had banded around your limbs is congealed in the drain. 

You leave the showers first, roaming around until you find a discarded cardboard box that’s brimming with clothes in your size. There’s jeans that should do well in the elements and another tank top suited for the crushing heat. 

When you’re dressed, you call out to Joel that you’ll be in the yoga room. You spend the down time arranging the yoga mats into two separate mattresses. Joel’s feet will hang off a bit, but you imagine it’ll be better than sleeping on the floor.

Footsteps scrape from the doorway, and your head snaps up.

Joel Miller cleans up nice, it seems. He’s kept his boots, but apart from that, looks like a completely different person; his jeans now hug his hips tighter, his raggedy tee from earlier has been replaced with a form-fitting ribbed tank top. Any traces of mud, sweat, or gunk have been washed off his skin and down the drain. His hair hangs in wet stripes, sticking to his crinkled forehead.

You haven’t realized you’ve zone out until he’s waving a calloused hand in front of your face. “Hey, peach, anyone home?”

You clear your throat and replace it with a scowl. “Don’t call me that.” It’s deflection, and you know it. You think he knows it, too.

He gives you a funny look. “Uh huh,” he says. He taps his fingers along his hip bone. “Well, what the fuck are ya doin’?”

You furrow your brows at him. “Setting up camp…?”

“This is a shit camp to set up,” he says. “Stalkers in the parking garage, city I ain’t ever been in before? No, we need a vantage point.”

“And I assume you have one in mind?” you ask.

“Yeah, I do. ‘S a hotel, ‘lil further into town. Got three floors, we probably can block the stairwell from the inside to keep any raiders out.”

You nod and heft your backpack over your shoulder. It’s bulging from the extra clothes you’d stuffed into the bottom, and your arms are sore from the wrangling you’d given it after the collar of one of your new shirts jammed the zipper. 

Joel turns to stand guard at the door while you collect your stuff. You can’t seem to focus much on that, though, not with his ass practically at your eye level. The tighter denim definitely does him favors. You swallow the newfound lump in your throat and stuff your water flash into the side of your pack.

It has to be the lack of human connection. It’s been two weeks since you’ve seen anyone other than your captors, and the majority of this week since you’ve seen anyone other than Joel. Joel, who with every word, breath, movement, flinch, gets a rise out of you. Joel, who stirs the pot with you at every chance he gets. Joel, who almost certainly looks at you and sees a reflection of your father whom he hates.

He’d said so, early on.

This isn’t only one-sided. It’s a living, breathing disaster.

“‘S a hotel’ my ass, Joel, this place looks like a loaf of moldy bread.”

Joel insists on staying on the third floor. Says that the second floor is ‘too low’ and that being on the third floor poses a good choke point for any raiders or infected who might stumble upon your camp. He wants to ‘bottleneck’ any intruders, whatever the fuck that means.

The issue with the third floor? There’s mold. Everywhere. In the days after the outbreak, a leak must’ve happened somewhere in the pipes that bled through the ceiling and all over the top floor. None of the rooms you’ve checked have been left unscathed so far. It’s embedded into the rugs, the walls, the ceiling, all of it. At least it’s a good deterrent for the people that pass through. The infected, however? You have a feeling they’d be just at home.

“Would you shut the fuck up?” he says through his teeth. He pinches his nose bridge – he does that a lot, or maybe you just stress him out a lot – and glares at you.

“No, Joel. I’m fucking exhausted,” you hiss. “I’ve been roughing it with you all week, all you do is give me shit. The only thing this voyage of ours has taught me is that my dad has perfectly ample reason to hate your guts.” You’re closer to him now, knocking him back with your fist to your chest.

“Quit bein’ cute,” he scowls. “I’m the only reason your ass isn’t eyeball-deep in quicksand.”

“Yeah, and you’d be stalker food without me. So I guess we’re even, aren’t we, Joel?” You shove past him. “I’m just a way for you to pay off your stupid ‘debts’ anyway,” you mutter under your breath. He wasn’t protecting you, pulling you out of that damn pit. He was saving his own skin.

The hotel room door at the end of the hallway is slightly ajar. You lift your knife just in case, and step inside. 

It’s lacking the mold that the rest of the rooms have. People have definitely stayed in here before, what with the rumpled blankets left on the bed and a flashlight situated upright on the dresser. The thick layer of dust on the flashlight tells you that they never came back.

The room itself is satisfactory enough. Beige, almost green walls, close in at all sides. A cloudy mirror is hung by the window. Moonlight stipples the room. There’s a busted, corded phone on the nightstand that’s propped up on a Bible, a shattered nightlight, and a small table. You toss your pack onto the quilted bedspread and collapse onto the mattress. For an old, creaking thing with a busted spring or two, it’s still the most comfortable thing you think you’ve ever felt in your life. You sigh in relief and nuzzle into the pillow.

Joel clears his throat from the doorway.

“Find your own room, dipshit,” you say, nudging your pack off your bed with your knee. It thunks against the floor.

“I don’t think so.” He crosses his arms.

“I’m not sharing with you. You snore.”

“I don’t snore.”

“You do.”

You don’t have to look up to know he’s doing that thing where he pinches his nose bridge again. “You’re a fuckin’ piece ‘a work, kid, you know that?” You hear his pack drop against the ground. He drags a chair across the room and you cringe at how it squeals against the floor until he jams it under the doorknob. Then, the mattress dips.

You look at him sideways. “Get off my bed.”

“‘Your’ bed? You just discovered it two seconds ago.”

“Finders keepers.”

“Well I’m takin’ it from you. Losers weepers.”

You grit your teeth so hard you hear the bone scraping bone in your ears. 

“That’s now how this works–”

“We’re even now. You don’t wanna owe me one, and I sure as hell don’t wanna owe you one. So roll your ass over, act like an adult, and go to bed.”

You grouse under your breath, but with Joel, you have to pick and choose your battles. So you roll back over and wiggle yourself under the quilt, tucking your face into the musty pillow underneath you.

You sit in silence for a couple of minutes, staring at how the moon spills milky light along the alabaster ceiling. Then, you roll over again, stretching out the knicks in your back. Despite being the comfiest you’ve been in days, you’re feeling restless. You know Joel wouldn’t hurt you in any substantial way – you’re a bargaining chip to him. Nothing less, and certainly not anything more.

In spite of that, you find yourself drifting off with your face to him.

When Joel first wakes up, he thinks a clicker’s gnawing at his leg

Blinking the crust from his eyes, he realizes nothing’s gnawing on him at all. 

Rather, it’s you.

In your sleep, you’ve thrown your leg over his thigh. Your crotch is angled up against the bulk of his leg, a furnace that sears him through his jeans. Your head has dipped, forehead overheated and angled against the crux of his neck. If it were just that, he’d roll you over (maybe hard enough for you to crash on the floor) and hog the blankets for himself.

But you’re thrusting your fucking hips into him, letting out sleepy little whimpers while you fuck yourself on his leg. That explains why you’ve been acting dumber than a box of rocks. He oughta tan your hide for this. Bitching at him all week and really, you just need to get dicked down. Ironic, ain’t it.

He should still shove you off the bed. Call you a whore and leave you to rub your pussy raw in the bathroom instead of on his leg.

You give a particularly hard thrust, a keening little sound catching in the netting of your teeth. He swears you’re soaking through the denim.

He bites his tongue. The moonlight accentuates your closed eyes, your lashes fan out across your cheeks, there’s a cute little pinch in your lips as you unwittingly try to muffle the sounds coming out of you.

He can’t help himself. He raises his knuckles to your cheek and taps, taps, taps at the bone until your eyes startle open.

When you first wake up, you think you’re dying.

There’s a shortness of breath in your lungs. You feel like you’re being burned alive, your skin hot to the touch. You’re mummified in the crusty, flaky hotel sheets. Each intake of breath is musty and clings to your nostrils. You’re throbbing. Between the legs and elsewhere. Confusion puckers your brows. There’s slick between your legs — and Joel’s leg between your legs.

You tear away from him, making a disgruntled noise as the sheets tangle around your legs. His hand is raised to your face. There’s a moment where all you register is the judgmental squint in his dark eyes.

“What the fuck– you pervert,” you hiss, slapping him across the chest. A queasiness squiggles in your stomach as you inch your way back.

“Oh, no, peach. That was all you,” he drawls. He wraps his thick hand around your hipbone and pulls you back. You kick him in the shin, but there’s no real force behind it.

“Y-you’re lying,” you snarl. But a brief look at his lap tells you he’s not. He’s barely touting a semi, yet you’ve got the entire Mississippi River in your YMCA-issued panties.

Joel shakes his head at you. “‘S why you been actin’ up, you little shit? Just needed to get fucked?” He grips your hip so hard that it stings and hauls you against him. You tell yourself that the moan you let out is more of a hiss.

“I don’t– you’re making shit up, old man,” you say, squirming in his grip. You can’t help the way your hips sway at the tease of friction his knee gives you. You feel lightheaded, a freshly kindled bonfire.

“Am I?” Another squeeze to your hip. “Don’t look like it.” He notches his knee tighter against your swollen cunt, and your head dips forward as you bite into your lower lip. “Look’s like I’ve got a ‘lil slut more worked up than a hornets’ nest that spent all night rubbing her needy fuckin’ pussy on my leg.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and whine.

“Jus’ say the word, peach. I’ll do ya real good. Make that ache go away.” He rubs his thumb in a circle along your skin. The calloused pad of his thumb slips underneath the hem of your tank top, a lit match dragging along your skin.

“I don’t think you have it in you, Miller,” you say. But your voice gives you away. It’s breathy, coarsened by your sleep-stained, lust-stained rasp.

“Yeah? Well I didn’t think you had it in you to be humpin’ this ‘old man’s’ leg, but ya learn something new everyday.” He doesn’t grind his knee into your cunt — more so wedges it up. Pain blurs a watercolor line with pleasure as your back arches. His hand drifts from your midriff to your thigh, arm hooking around it so he can heft you up against his thigh proper. You grunt as you end up chest to chest with him. Your hips rock into his, guided by the North Star of his hands clutching at your hips. “Can feel ya,” he says. “Drippin’ all over me.”

You grind your teeth, digging your fingers into his shoulders. He groans as your nails claw at the skin there. “Shut the fuck up so I can pretend you’re someone else.”

He chuckles. “You can play pretend all you want, but I’m the one you’re soaking, ain’t I?”

You make an aggravated sound. Your left hand drags down his arm, leaving angry red tracks in their wake. Before he can gripe about it, you slap your right hand over his mouth. His eyes flare. Eye for an eye, his teeth sink into the flesh of your palm. You hiss at the sting. It only makes you pump your hips against him faster. The friction of your shorts and panties against the bulk of his leg and the wrinkle of his denim jeans makes your clit twitch against him.

Your flesh stretches as you tug it from his teeth. Your hand plants itself in his hair instead, dragging his head to the side. His eyes flutter, lidded and dark. “Don’t act like you don’t damn near cream yourself when I talk to you like this. You like being told what a nasty. Fuckin’. Slut. You are. Don’t look at me like that. You are. Been cruisin’ for a bruisin’ this whole time — just didn’t know you were after a pussy beating instead of a real one.”

Your eyes roll back. Your hips roll more languidly, only jerking when Joel gives a particularly brutal tug at your waist. You let out a pathetic moan into his neck. You nip at the skin there, tongue laving over the scars and blemishes he’s collected over the years. He reaches down and grabs a handful of your ass, groaning. “Too pretty to be actin’ a fool, baby.”

You dig your teeth into his neck, hard enough to leave cavernous bite marks in your wake. Your tongue digs through the craters your teeth left behind, saliva pulling from your lips to his skin. He smacks your ass hard enough for your hips to jerk, and you almost glare at him as you separate from your throat. Instead, your eyes squeeze shut.

“Don’t wanna look at me, do ya peach? Mmmm, well thas’ okay.” He fists his hand in the roots of your hair and tugs your head to the side. You hear Joel groping at the nightstand in the dark, and then the flashlight ticks on.

Your eyes blink open to yourself reflected in desilvered glass. Mirror rot surrounds your luminescent face, but most of all, you can see your hips and how they rock shallowly into Joel’s leg. “Watch yourself fuckin’ yourself stupid on my leg,” he croons in your ear. When you go still, his thumbs press hard into your skin. You stare at him. “You already fucked yourself stupid or somethin’? ‘S a simple instruction, sweet cheeks.”

“That’s dumb, Joel–” you sneer, going to look away.

He jerks your head back to where he had it and rocks his leg into your clit. You watch your face contort around a ragged moan. Pleasure thrashes through your system. “C’mon, you’re a dirty girl. Watch how pathetic you look while you get yourself off. Pretend I’m your pillow if you have to, but it ain’t gonna change how I’m the one gettin’ you off like this.”

Your thighs clamp around his. He smirks at you in the mirror. Your knee grazes his bulge, and a breathy moan loosens from his lips. “Two way street, Miller,” you say. But you’re weak — and so, so wet.

You give your hips a languid roll, watching yourself in the mirror. You’re a mess, mouth parted, eyes lidded, skin slick with sweat. Your hips shudder and start against him as you start to properly buck yourself against the meat of his thigh. With the shelves of your teeth, you try to smother the depraved noises coming out of you. Joel rolls his eyes.

“Gonna wake the fuckin’ dead with all that whining of yours.” Mid-moan, Joel shoves two fingers into your mouth and pries your jaw open. His fingers are bulky and ridged with callouses against your tongue. His thumb presses a dent into your jaw. “‘S okay, baby. I like ‘em loud.”

“I like you shutting the fuck up,” you say around a mouthful of his knuckles. You can’t help it. You bite at his fingers, not hard enough to hurt, but definitely hard enough to sting. He hisses and presses down on your tongue. You make a sputtering noise.

“You were sayin’?” he asks, tensing his thigh. You whimper against his fingertips. He tightens his grip on your hair, and in the mirror, you see yourself bared raw for him to see in all ways but the physical. You rut into his leg with increasing need.

“Mmmph, Joel–” you say around his fingers. 

“Oh, now you’re moaning my name? What was it I said? Cruisin’ for a bruisin’, peach.”

Wetness leaks down the insides of your thighs. Your swollen clit hitches on a wrinkle in his jeans. You’re shaking, thighs trembling where they’re wrapped around him. Your fingers grapple for purchase and find some anchored in his hair, tugging wildly. You eye yourself in that damn mirror, the way your chest is slotted against his, how your hips pitch into his over and over again in your pursuit of release.

“Ask for it, baby.” Joel grinds his leg up into your cunt. “You wanna come on me, you gotta ask for it.”

You shake your head wildly. You aren’t a beggar — especially not for Joel Miller. You’d rather throw yourself back into quicksand. Jump in front of a clicker. Step on an alligator.

Joel pouts mockingly at you. “Stubborn for a slut who’s willin’ to spread it open all hours ‘a the day.” You rub your knee into his bulge, tenting his jeans, in hopes that it’ll be a suitable distraction. He groans, knee jerking. His thigh rams against you, and your back arches. You see your brows pucker in your reflection, your hips undulating against him.

“F-fuck,” you whine out, bouncing against him.

“You wanna come, don’t you, peach?” You nod frantically. “Wanna soak me, huh?” At that, you grit your teeth and snarl at him. You do you do you do. But you don’t want to admit it.

You squirm on his leg, desperately rocking into him. You dig your feet into the creaking mattress, fisting your hands into the fabric of his shirt. Tremors wrack your body as you work yourself on him. Your cunt flutters, and you almost taste your orgasm.

Joel tosses you off of him.

“You son of a–” you shriek, thrashing and out of breath. Your clit throbs and your hole twitches at the stolen promise of release. You bounce on the mattress, sprawled on your back and twitching.

“I told ya,” he says. “Gotta ask for it.”

“I’m not asking you for shit, asshole–”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll change your tune when I stuff your right full.” He grabs you by the back of your shirt and coaxes you into spinning around. He yanks you onto all fours, forehead meeting the mattress.

You back your hips up as he reaches around your shorts for the button. The zipper squeals as it comes down and he shuffles them down your legs. He nudges your knees apart. You can feel his bulge, insistent and pressed against the back of your thigh. He grips the inside of your thigh, fingers sliding through the slick that’s there.

“Shit, baby,” he groans. “No wonder you were humpin’ me. Just needing someone to take away that ache, don’t you? Jus’ a horny girl wanting to go cock dumb.” His fingers graze over your clit, barely even a brush, and you let out a mangled sound into the comforter. “See? So desperate and sensitive. You’re cute when you’re not a pain in the ass.”

“That makes one of us,” you say.

Joel snorts. “She’s got jokes.” He rubs a circle into your clit, and then another, and all you can do is rock your hips into his hand. Impatient, you brace yourself on your elbow so you can reach behind him and fumble with his belt buckle. Joel laughs under his breath, working at the zipper while you undo the buckle. It chimes as his belt falls loose and his pants slump on his hips. You work the button open. 

You wriggle your hand into his briefs and pull him out, giving him a series of quick pumps. Joel grunts. “Just like that, peach. Fuck, yeah, you know what you’re doin’.”

He teases the tips of his fingers at your entrance. Razor sharp want slices up the insides of your warm thighs as you clench and drip more of your wetness along his hand. “I’ll throw you a bone,” Joel says. Then, with no warning, he slips a finger into your warmth and curls it just right. You claw against the sheets, whimpering.

“Nasty thing.” He hooks his finger and you fully mewl. Heat rushes into your cheeks. “Barely gotta do anythin’ to get you writhing and wanting.”

Warm tears brim at your eyes from the heady, deadly mix of arousal and hatred. Your cunt tightens around his finger, and without warning, he pushes another one in, twisting and hooking them brutally inside of you.

Your fingers fist in the sheets, temple pressed into the mattress. You can see the cocksure look on his face in the mirror, the way his forearm flexes with each thrust into you. “Fuck me already,” you spit. You know it’ll hurt if he fucks you without really preparing you. You want it to hurt. You want it to ache like the tread of his boot stamped on your chest. You want it to sting and simmer like the cuts that the wetlands left in a collage across your arms and legs. You want him to split you open and leave you flayed by your own pleasure.

“Alright, alright,” he says as he pulls his fingers out of you. He gives your clit a light slap that makes you squeal. You almost black out when you see him bring his slick-stained fingers to his mouth and suck. “Yeah, taste as sweet as a peach, dontcha sugar? Such a tasty little cunt for such a smart-mouthed brat.”

You could cry with how bad you want hi— no, his cock. 

“Gonna hurt, baby. But you want it to, don’t you? Wanna feel me all up in here.” He roams his free hand across your stomach, then back around to your ass where he tugs you back. There’s the smack of flesh as your hips meet each other, the whimper between your netted teeth as he nestles his cock between your slippery folds. You nod, head slinging forward. “Don’t gotta tell me. I know ya do. Girl like you, always such a smartass. Yeah, you want it rough.” His voice is gruff, lust-addled. “Act stupid all you want, peach. I got you all figured out.”

He slots his head against your hole and you let out a strangled noise into the mattress. Your vision swims as he pushes into you, thumbs dug into your ass cheeks so he can watch how you take him. You mewl, back arching into and away from him at the same time. Your body can’t decide where to go. If it wants to be further, or as close as possible to him. Joal groans as he sinks into you.

“Tight as a fuckin’ hose pipe, peach,” he says. He reaches around to give your flick your clit — a move that makes your entire body spasm. 

“So about as small as your dick, then?” It’s bullshit — you know it, and he knows it. He’s not even fully inside of you, but the difference is startling. He’s stuffing you to the brim, leaving you to scrabble and claw against the sheets.

He slams into you, a blatant disregard of your comfort. You feel his balls smack against your clit, and hear the same thigh you’d been humping slot against your own. A ragged cry rips from your throat. “Joel,” you whimper, hips trying to writhe against the bed. “Joel, fuck—”

“Feels pretty big now, don’t it?” You whine, petulant, but it breaks off into a moan as he pulls back and then punches back into you.

All you can do is take it, take it, take it as he bashes your swollen cunt with his fat cock. You gasp raggedly, each snap of his hip bringing pleasure-pain tears to your eyes. Joel’s nails dig into the meat of your ass and yank you back on him. The sting is renewed, then, as he props his leg up on the bed and pounds into you. You whimper, helpless to his whims.

Between one thrust and the next, the bite in your cunt turns into a thrum of pleasure. A persistent swarm of heat and your own slick leaking down his cock. “Like I said,” Joel grunts as he fucks you. “A nasty fuckin’ slut with a sloppy ‘lil cunt.”

You whine, squeezing around him. Your head spins. “Fuck,” he spits.

“Joel, please, please, ple–”

“Quit beggin’, it ain’t ladylike.” You prop yourself up on your elbow and reach behind him, tugging his wrist away from your ass so you can slip his hand between your thighs. His pistoning into you falters. “What’d I say?” Joel grunts. His knees adjust over the backs of your calves to hold you down.

“Keep touching me,” you whine. “Please, you asked me to ask for it, so I’m fucking asking for it.”

“Told you to ask permission, not cry at me like a kicked puppy,” he says. “I call the shots here. Like it or not.” He goes to yank his hand away from your clit, but you yank at his knuckle.

Joel scowls, and so fast you might get vertigo, his other arm’s bicep locks around your neck and heaves you back against his chest. You sputter, drool pooling in your mouth. Your hands briefly tug at his arm, but fall limp when he says, “Oh, shut the fuck up, I ain’t gonna kill ya. Gotta keep you on your toes, peach.”

You arguably shouldn’t. But you trust him. Enough to keep you alive, at least.

With another thrust into the warm vise of your cunt, your body’s running hotter than an engine and twice as fast. He squeezes tight enough that your air is in short supply, and with it, everything is amplified. Pleasure crinkles through your body like crumpled aluminum foil, serrated and clinging to you. The crook of his elbow is warm, and you can’t help your head lolling back to give him a look that’s purely salacious. He tips his head down at you and smirks.

“Yeah, that’s my hungry little cockwhore,” he says. With his free hand, he tugs your hair. You seize around him, struggling for what to hang onto. You let out a rasping, strangled moan. With your head tipped back, you can see the tilt to his lips as he moans, feel his scruff scraping at your forehead. “Takin’ it like you were made for it. Shit.”

Joel moans as you clamp down around him again.

Tears might be sliding down your cheeks – you don’t know. You’re too trapped in this, in this moment, in the feeling of his cock slamming into your throbbing, aching cunt. “Mmph,” you whine low in your throat as he fucks up into you. He’s damn near bruising your cervix. Each thrust makes your cunt flitter around him. 

“You look good like this,” Joel grunts against your ear, using the leverage of his propped-up leg to bounce you on his cock. “All quiet ‘n sweet ‘n whorish. Goddamn, never thought a slut could feel this fuckin’ tight.”

Your eyes slip shut, vision spotting behind your eyelids. He keeps forcing himself into you. Making room. Making a mark that you’ll never forget he carved into you.

Your body is limp as he gets himself off, his hand moving from your hair. He gropes at your tits, flicking your nipple in a way that draws a sloping moan out of you. He slides it down your side, each callous bumping against your skin until he reaches your clit. You nod wildly, and he chuckles into the shell of your ear. “You think you’ve earned it? All you’ve been doing is whinin’ like a little bitch, baby.” He taps his fingers against your clit, once, twice, mounting the tautness of the tension drawn tight like elastic through your body. You gasp down air as he ever so slightly loosens his grip around your neck. He keeps thrusting into you, jerking tiny moans out of you as he does.

Your legs tremble. Your brain feels like mush. You wring his cock with each strain of your pussy. “I don’t want you,” you gasp out between thrusts. “I want you for what you can — fuck — give me. So I guess… that makes… us even. Doesn’t it?” Joel’s finger stills where it hovers over your clit, and you almost don’t notice the falter in his hips with how subtle it is.

“Yeah,” Joel pants. “Guess it does, peach.”

He presses his thumb down on your clit and the whole world makes sense.

You cry out as your juices soak his cock, dripping down his balls and thighs. “Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel,” you chant in between moans. He’s holding you up now by the underside of one of your arms, his fingers toying with your nipples. Each touch sends laser hot electricity between your legs.

He slams up into you again and you shriek. “Fuck, you’re a mess,” Joel says. “All stuffed full ‘a me… yeah, that’s how you’re s’posed to be. Sprayin’ your pussy juices all over me while I ram my cock into this drippy little hole.”

You whine, clit twitching against his finger. Tears burn at the edges of your eyes like fire on parchment. “I wanna come,” you whisper, voice tinged with need. “Please, Joel. I–”

“Who do you want to make you come?” he asks as he rolls his hips up into you. An undulating pace that makes you want to scream.

The curdling pleasure in your stomach brims, stews, steeps. You’re drowning in it, in the fire lashing through your body. Fire that he lit and stoked and now, only he can put out. “You, Joel!” you cry out. “You! I want you to make me come, please, I need it, I want t-”

“I got you, peach,” he says. He mashes the pad of his thumb against your swollen nub, rubbing circles, circles, circles. You scream this time, head slumping against him. “Throbbin’ for it,” he growls out. “All swollen and whinin’ like you’re in heat. You needed this. Needed me.”

“I needed you,” you nod, exhaling. You think you’d agree to anything he said right now. “Fuck,” you wail. Your hands anchor themselves on his forearm.

“Don’t fight it, baby, don’t fight it,” he coos. Your nails scratch angry red tracks down his burly arms. “Come on me, see if it gives you an attitude adjustment.”

To your chagrin, that does it.

Your orgasm shatters you. You’re fragile as it tears through your body, tying knots around your racing heart and making your legs quiver. You feel yourself gush around Joel’s cock, gasping for air as your lungs empty. Your cunt flutters around him as pleasured tears spill from the corners of your eyes. Everything’s hot and melting, your arousal dripping out of you in droves. Joel rubs at your clit through it, coaxing in your ear, “That’s it, theeeeere it is. Shit, baby, I’m comin’— squeezin’ me so damn good—”

Joel twitches inside of you, and you whine at his absence when he pulls out just in time. With a throaty, reverberating groan, he sprays the small of your back with his cum. You gasp as it splashes against you, your chest heaving against his hand. 

You sit in the silence, high off of the come down, panting in delirium. 

Joel clears his throat. “You alright, peach?”

“You don’t have to pretend to like me now that we’ve had sex, Joel,” you say. “I get it. We fucked. We got it out of our systems. Hooray. Do you want me to pop some confetti poppers?”

“I was being courteous, goddamn,” he grunts as he stands up. You watch as he tugs his jeans back up. “Clearly ain’t nobody ever treated you gentlemanly before.”

“Says the man who got off on choking me out.”

He shoots back, “The feeling was mutual, if I remember five minutes ago correctly. I ain’t that old.” He buckles his belt up. As he redresses, you toss your own shorts off to the side. He’s already been in your whole pussy — you’d rather not sleep in the denim shorts.

When you’re done, you give him a look.

He pinches his nose bridge and sighs through his teeth. “We oughta hit the hay. Long day ahead. And you should be too exhausted by now to be wakin’ me up again.”

You clench your fists at your side. “Fine.”

You reach for his flashlight and turn it off.

Reunion Tower is the first building you see.

Dallas. Home sweet home, for better or worse.

The skyline slowly eases up and out of the treeline as you and Joel meander up the car-cluttered I-20. Remnants from a life that’s long gone, all but skeletons with the organs of another time.

You and Joel have scarcely talked. Mostly, it’s just him pointing out directions. But he does other things. He helps you through wreckage or rubble instead of leaving you to muscle through on your own. He gives you part of his rations. He tosses you a magazine he finds in a store. He keeps watch.

You had meant what you said. You fucked. That was that. He was still the man your father told ghost stories about. The thoughtless killer. The unforgiving bullet to a skull. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of peoples’ deliverance to the afterlife. The man who’d betrayed your father all those years ago, a story of which you only know the vague specifics of.

Maybe you’ll ask him while he’s on bedrest from that bullet wound. (Or maybe you’ll just ask him. He’s not the sort of man to stay down for long.)

Regardless, as you two cross the exit a couple blocks from your dad’s base, you ask him, “Do you think he sent people after me?”

“Maybe,” Joel says. “Probably went up to Oklahoma instead. Louisiana ain’t famous for bein’ easy hikin’ material. Shocker that them Cockroaches brought you all the way out there.”

You nod and kick a rock with the toe of your shoe. “You think your group’s doing good on their own?”

“Who fuckin’ knows,” Joel says. “Left Tommy in charge of the place, I’ll be lucky if it ain’t burned down by now.”

“Well, you’ve got a whole new world ahead of you. Free of debts and all. Maybe my dad will finally get off your ass. Could skip town, if you wanted.”

Joel’s feet drag on the concrete. You watch him out of the corner of your eye as he scratches the back of his neck. “There were never any debts, peach,” he says.

Your brows furrow as you stop in your tracks. “The fuck do y—”

“Got you of my own volition,” he says. “Your dad and I might be on shit terms, but that don’t mean I don’t care about him. I…” He pauses. “I know what it’s like to lose people.”

“Everyone does,” you say.

“Yeah,” Joel nods. He turns to make eye contact with you. “Everyone does. But I don’t exactly wanna go about losin’ you,” he says.

“That’s a bold claim, Miller,” you say.

“You’re good company. Even if you’re a shitass.” He pats you on the shoulder. His hand slides down your arm to your hand, and he gives it a squeeze before letting it drop. “Now c’mon. Let’s get you home.”

[hannieehaee]

HOW SWEET

18+ / mdi

summary: after years of an unspoken fight between you and your self-proclaimed enemy, you find yourself forced to work with your life-long rival, kim mingyu, as your father offers him a position at the family bakery. with such forced proximity and endless arguments, how are you supposed to cater to your duties when mingyu's presence brings so much tension to the kitchen?

content: baker!mingyu, enemies to lovers, pining, one sided crush that becomes two sided!, afab reader, smut, teasing, semi public sex (its done in a public establishment but no one is there), breast play, food play (frosting on tits basically), fingering, handjob, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 8.4k

a/n: i know nothing about cooking or about how a bakery runs so please take everything here with a grain of salt and just enjoy it for what it is: self-indulgent smut

masterlist | patreon

Twelve years.

Twelve years dedicating yourself to your craft, attending summer camps, taking elective classes, paying for extracurricular classes, working summers at your dad's place, making all effort known to man, yet this is how it all ended.

Maybe claiming this to be the end was slightly dramatic, but that's how it felt at the moment. As you stared up at your dad and the excuse of a man standing next to him, far too cocky for you to allow your anger yo subside.

Today had been an average day. Throughout your life, you were content to admit that most of your days could be categorized as good, especially after years of having found comfortable employment at your father's renown bakery soon after high school (thank you nepotism). Attending culinary school whilst managing a part-time job at your dad's place had been anything but difficult. It was quite an easy and enjoyable job, one in which you could proudly say you'd had the chance to grow up in.

Your father had owned the place since before you could even walk, building it up to become a favorite in your city. Business was always booming, and it just so happened to fulfill your passion for baking — one which your dad had obviously passed down to you, but you weren't complaining. You occasionally took up shifts during high school, only becoming a full-fledged part-time employee during university, recently graduating and upgrading to full time. Life was good and steady.

So, it was fair to say that most of your days were good.

However, there was the occasional day that was ruined by the mere presence of a particular individual.

You hadn't meant to dislike him as much as you did. Anyone who knew you could vow for your likable personality and charismatic demeanor, meaning it was difficult for you to bump heads with people (at least most of the time). But there was just one particular person who made your blood boil from the day you met him. It had been so long ago, you couldn't date back the moment — nor the instance — in which your dislike had begun brewing. Fortunately, the dislike was completely mutual. You didn't have to feel like an asshole for scowling at the man any time you saw him, because you were usually met by a mirror of your expression or an annoyingly frustrating smirk — similar to in this moment.

The frustrating man in question was none other than Kim Mingyu, the resident heartthrob and well known for his passion and talent for baking. Hatred for the insufferable man aside, his abilities as a baker, and chef in general, could not be denied. The mere implication of praise made you gag, but you liked to think you were mature enough to admit talent when you saw it. This was something you'd never verbalize, however, knowing the man to also be one of the cockiest people you'd ever met.

There were a myriad of reasons as to why your current predicament ruined not only your day, but likely many upcoming ones. The main reason could be boiled down to the smile on Mingyu's face as he stood to your father's side. The cockiness emitting from him was enough to get your blood boiling and to create a carnal desire within you to beat him to a pulp.

The reason for his smile, however, was what truly took the cake.

Within the past moments in which you'd been processing your father's words, you remained silent and stagnant before them, leading your father to repeat the cursed sentence once more.

"Mingyu's going to be working with us from now on," he'd said with an innocent smile on his face, unknowing of your feud with the man in question.

Everything had come crashing down in that moment, but any more silence from you would mean Mingyu won this round, which was something you simply could not have — even under these circumstances.

Shaking all the anger and hateful memories from your head, you straightened your back and morphed a smile onto your face, one good enough for your dad to buy and for Mingyu to be unable to judge. Your hand extended as a courtesy, offering itself to Mingyu as a form of welcome, something which your father likely expected from you.

"In that case, welcome to the team," you spoke for the first time, sweetly enough to grant you a satisfied smile from your father. The poor man was blissfully unaware of your dislike for Mingyu, so no blame really fell on him for his blind decision.

Grasping your hand in his larger one, Mingyu shook hands with you, satisfied smile still on his face, "Looking forward to working with you," he said, far too content for you to not want to take him out back and-

"I know you kids already know each other from back when you were in school, so it should be easy for you to show him the ropes, right, kid?", asked your dad, interrupting your violent thoughts.

Your head whipped to him, "Show him the ropes?"

"Yeah. I was thinking you could train him? He's already an amazing baker, but maybe he should shadow you for a few weeks. You know, just in case," your father clarified.

Mingyu's close-lipped grin grew wider somehow, almost as if the knowledge of your discomfort at being around him overpowered his own dislike of your presence.

"Uh, yeah. Sure, dad," you found yourself agreeing against your will.

Your dad clapped his hands once in satisfaction, then proceeding to patting your back in encouragement as he tended to do.

"Thanks, kid. Well, I'll leave you two to it," he then turned to Mingyu, "Welcome to the team, son. Y/N here will show you where you can get your apron and give you a general overview of the place before your first day tomorrow," and with that, he made his exit.

Behind, he left a fuming you and an overly pleased Mingyu. Silence filled the room for a few moments until you found it vital to curse out the infuriating boy in front of you.

But, as per usual, he beat you to it.

"Happy to see me, cupcake?"

God damnit. You forgot about the annoying nicknames he'd insisted on calling you by since meeting back in high school.

Cupcake, baby, sweetheart, sweetiepie, babe, honey, darling. And these were the more tame ones. You did not want to think about the instances in which he'd called you hot stuff or sexy in public. They'd led to public displays of aggression you weren't exactly proud of.

"I thought you were studying culinary abroad. What happened? Got yourself kicked out?," you grumbled, walking over to the back of the restaurant with him following close by.

"Nope. Just decided my expertise could be used back home. And clearly since you seem to be the best they got around here."

It was as if he was allergic to not bugging the shit out of you.

You turned to face him, blinking harshly at the unexpected proximity before taking a step back and responding to his smirk with a frown, "Listen, Mingyu. You heard my dad. I'm in charge of you. If you disregard my authority, I won't hesitate to send your ass running. Do you understand?"

This made his grin grow bigger for some reason. Knowing he was getting under your skin was great for his entertainment.

"Yes, ma'am," he bit his lip in amusement.

Training Mingyu was entirely unnecessary.

To your disdain, he was actually quite good at what he did. It was as if baking was second nature to him, just something he'd somehow been born with.

And worst of all, everyone else working at your dad's shop seemed to notice this and could never let anyone forget.

Every day there was one or another form of praise for Mingyu. Whether it was regarding his baking or his people skills, Mingyu was practically employee of the month as far as you were concerned — despite having been around for only a week. He was an overachiever as always, and it unfortunately always worked in his favor.

Mingyu, as per usual, basked in on the constant praise. He was a social butterfly at heart. Everywhere he went, he left with at least one new friend.

You were suddenly feeling alienated at your own family's business.

"What's with the sour face, pumpkin?" he nudged your shoulder as he joined you on the counter, needlessly helping you frost some cupcakes.

"You're ruining my life."

Okay, that might've been a tad dramatic.

"I've followed your every rule. I'm literally the perfect employee."

"I meant with your presence."

"Princess, I thought we were done with this whole 'will they, won't they' thing. I think what you're feeling might just be sexual frustration."

You puffed out some hot air in frustration, not bothering to look at him as you continued to do your work.

"Do you think my father would fire me if I strangled one of his employees?"

He pretended to ponder over it with a hum, "There's way more fun things you could do to me with your hands," was what he settled with.

"Is flirting with me your new method of torturing me with your presence?"

"Nope. Just decided to find a new approach to make my interest known."

He'd said it so nonchalantly you'd almost missed it. It made you halt your movements, allowing Mingyu to fully take over on what you were doing.

"What?"

"This can't come as news to you. I've been flirting with you since middle school," he kept up his nonchalance, not even looking at you as his eyes remained glued to the task at hand.

"Flirting? You call being the bane of my existence for the past twelve years 'flirting'?", you gaped at him, regaining your snark back and snatching the half-frosted cupcake from his hand.

"Everyone else sees it," he shrugged, "You just need to catch up."

Then he left, putting his hands on some other part of the kitchen and leaving you to ponder on that.

Was this supposed to be a confession?

It was entirely too cliche — competitors turned enemies due to circumstance, with one of them being hopelessly in love with the other.

God, that was a dramatic way of putting it.

It has been suggested by other people in the past. Onlookers, classmates, friends, you name it. Everyone had at some point suggested that Mingyu might have feelings for you (or you for him). That your rivalry was born out of that dumb cliche. Pulling at a girl's pigtails to get her attention.

Maybe it seemed that way from an outside perspective, but your disdain for Mingyu was genuine, and you were certain the feeling was entirely mutual.

You couldn't imagine the thought of Mingyu actually being in love with anyone, much less you. The guy was far too in love with himself to allow room for anyone else. Plus, all past interest he'd shown in you had been through insulting you and getting in your way. What was he, seven?

This was probably just another way of getting in your nerves. There was no reason for him to suddenly confess, after all. He'd already gotten a job at your dad's bakery — the most renown in town. What else could he possibly be after?

You scoffed at the thought, opting to put it in the back of your mind as you finished off the last few cupcakes and boxed them to prepare them for pickup.

Turning around with the boxed cupcakes in hand, you just so happened to make eye contact with Mingyu as he prepared some dough across the room. His annoyingly short sleeves gave perfect view of his strained arms as he battered at the mixture.

You let your eyes wander to his muscular arms for a mere half second, but that was enough for Mingyu to catch you with a smirk and a wink, flexing a little extra just to piss you off. Your eyes rolled as you looked away, but you were pretty sure you felt yourself flush a bit.

Mingyu's looks had been something you'd always attempted to ignore, but fuck, you suddenly felt all the more aware of them after his stupid confession.

Confession, if you could even call it that.

~

It didn't take you long to entirely disregard Mingyu's mind games. No stupid allusion to a crush would get you out of focus, especially not now.

Upon your return from being away at culinary school, your dad had begun instilling more and more trust in you to take care of the shop. As time passed, he'd occasionally be absent in order to test your skills as a trustworthy employee. You were sure even more responsibilities were to fall on your lap soon, and you were hopeful that was the case. You'd performed well so far, and Mingyu's presence was not going to deter that progress.

That instance, however, had not been the only time in which Mingyu decided to mess with your head. Gone were his boyish attempts at bothering you, the many that you'd gotten used to throughout the years. No, now he'd decided to play nice. He decided he'd be helpful and some sick version of charming that would have any other girl swooning.

But not you. You knew better. You weren't sure what game he was playing at, but you weren't going to fall for it like every other person in his vicinity.

Sure, maybe you looked like a dick to everyone else around you, constantly shooting Mingyu down when he'd try and help you out in the kitchen, but they didn't know about your history together. Mingyu had always made it so that you'd be painted as the mean girl. He'd get in your way, sabotage you, question your skills. But he'd always do it in an ingenious way that left you dumbfounded, looking ungrateful and just plain mean.

So when he suddenly decided to play nice, both for any onlookers and for you, it was difficult for you to actually take him seriously.

But still, you couldn't deny the effect his confession had had on you. You might've disregarded it as a simple play of his, but it still remained in your head, itching at you every time he so much as walked into the bakery.

"Sup, babe. Need help with that frosting?"

Speak of the devil.

Not even facing away in a lone corner of the bakery as you worked on a menial task could he take the hint.

"What are we making?", he tried again, now invading your personal space as he peaked at what your hands were working on.

"Is silence an option?"

"You know I'll just keep bugging you til you answer me. Make it easier for the both of us."

His head was now low enough for his chin to rest on your shoulder. His annoyingly strong arms were resting on the counter in front of you. One of them was conveniently rounding your body as he reclined on the counter. It was a pain to admit even to yourself, but the proximity made you lose focus.

God, what was wrong with you?

You'd always known Mingyu to he attractive. Sue you, okay? But his annoying personality was always in the way of any possible attraction you could've had for him. It wasn't until his stupid, idiotic, unnecessary, unprofessional, annoying, fake confession that you'd begun feeling this way. His constant suggestive stares and proximity were not helping your case either.

"Hmm, you need more strength. The consistency's gonna be all off if you do it like this. Here, let me ..."

Then his hands held onto yours, guiding you as you whisked the butter into a creamy consistency.

You couldn't even react. Your fight or flight reaction failed you, instead choosing to freeze at his touch.

Had you ever touched his hand before?

"See? It's like this. You should just use the electric whisk, that way you don't need all this strength- Oh, shit, am I hurting you?"

He backed off a bit, taking note of your frozen state. Fuck. If he noticed you were actually flustered, you were done for.

"No, just get off me, god," you huffed as a cover.

Mingyu scoffed at this, going back to helping you upon realizing he hadn't actually been doing any more harm than usual.

"You make it kinda hard to be nice sometimes, you know? But that's fine. I'll keep doing it. When you least expect it, you won't even remember hating me anymore," he sounded sure of himself.

Now was your turn to scoff, hands working on the frosting despite Mingyu practically doing all the work for you, "What makes you so sure?"

He took a moment to himself to chuckle.

"You're breaking down. Two weeks ago you never would've let me this close to you," he leaned right into your ear for the next part, "It's nice, isn't it? When you're not in denial?"

That's when you finally pushed him off, huffing at his boldness.

"I'm still your boss. Get your ass out of here and get to work."

That was the best cover you could come up with. He had been right. You'd been letting him get away with more and more as the days passed, and now he was messing with your head.

"Yes, ma'am," he was smirking. Your back was facing him, but you knew him well enough to know.

The job in front of you was practically done. Anything else would be overkill and you knew this, but he'd gotten into your head again. His mere presence had distracted you. Again. And the worst thing of all was that he'd been right. You were wearing down. Becoming more susceptible to his flirtatious advances and even forgetting why you hated him in the first place.

Mingyu had never deliberately hurt you in all those years you'd known him, nor had you him. In reality, it had all been a childish feud you'd grown far too used to to ever let go. But at the same time, giving in to him made you feel weak. You couldn't let some stupid charm break you down so easily.

You had to stay strong, even if that meant embarrassing yourself in front of Mingyu every once in a while.

The next development of your reaction to his shamelessness had been the worst. It made you feel like you were existing outside your body, watching yourself slowly crumble under the extra attention he'd been giving you.

By this point, not only were you constantly flustered at his proximity, but you found yourself affected even when he wasn't around. All it took was a few more suggestive glances and the occasional gracing of skin as a lame excuse to pass by when the kitchen was crowded to get you thinking about him outside of work.

You'd even come to dream of him, waking up at 3AM in a cold sweat, gasping for air at the vivid memories of what'd he'd done in your imagination. Seeing him after such instances made you an even bigger mess in the kitchen. It affected your work at times, causing you to require even more unwarranted help for him, thus being in closer proximity and continuing the endless cycle.

The first time it happened was the worst of all. You hadn't known how to handle it. How to behave around him when your mind was clouded with false memories of a Mingyu that didn't exist. It was your first time embarrassing yourself in front of him. Your usual collected demeanor, able to fire back at him without a second thought, was frozen in place.

You'd avoided him all day, knowing you'd lose focus the moment you met his eyes. The way he'd touched you in that dream was between you and God. Even if you liked to deny it, Mingyu was a smart man. He'd trace that look in your eye right back to dirty thoughts and never let you live it down.

Avoiding him was your only option.

But, of course, that was entirely impossible in such a small kitchen. That, and you were pretty sure god just didn't like you very much.

It was an accident. You had practically ran from him the moment he stepped foot in the bakery. You'd even managed to avoid you must of the day, but when your eyes accidentally met, you freaked out, dropping the batter you'd been making in the process.

It had, of course, caused a huge noise, halting everything else happening in the kitchen as Mingyu rushed to your side. You'd gotten your shoes dirty, with some batter even making it to your legs. It was fortunate you'd been wearing a knee-length dress, or else you would've needed a change of clothes.

Unlike what you'd expected, he didn't mock you. He got attention away from you, picking up after you and taking you to the back in order to help you clean up. You were mortified, knowing that the cause of the mess had been the same boy kneeling in front of you, cleaning you with a few rags he'd taken from the kitchen.

Even your current predicament made you blush. He'd been on his knees in your dream too.

"Are you okay? You haven't said anything all day."

He broke the silence, finally looking up at you as he continued to rub at the leftover batter on your legs.

You looked away immediately. This was not a sight you could handle right now.

"It's nothing."

"Are you sure? I won't make fun of you. You've already given me enough ammunition, but I held back," he joked, "C'mon. Is something bothering you?"

Letting your eyes find him again, you gulped. His furrowed brows told you he meant it, but you were too distracted by everything else about him. He was wearing a very short-sleeved shirt, and his muscles popped a little extra due to their grip on your leg. The world just wasn't on your side today.

"Just distracted today, I guess."

"Oh. Well, can I take advantage of that, then?", he smiled, "I know I'm the one kneeling, but maybe I still have the upper hand."

He got up then, having finished cleaning you up. He then leaned down, hands on his knees to meet your height as you sat down. There was a glint of satisfaction in his eyes, almost as if he'd been reading your thoughts from the moment you walked in today.

"Are you distracted enough to say yes if I asked you on a date?", his fangs showed as he smiled.

Your eyes widened.

"What? What are you talking about?"

You didn't even process the words. Your mind was still busy thinking about him on his knees.

"No? Okay, I guess I'll try again tomorrow," one of his hands reached to your own, tracing it with his thumb teasingly before standing to his full height again, "I'll break you down soon enough. I'm sure you're aware of that."

With that, he left, clearly satisfied that he'd somehow numbed you. You weren't sure if that was the result of his usual cockiness, or if you'd been too obvious in your avoidance of him today, but it still made you flush.

He was right. He did have the upper hand.

It'd now been a little over a month since Mingyu had begun working at your father's bakery. It had also been only a month since his confession, which had been accompanied by endless heat on your cheeks and an embarrassing burning in your stomach.

Mingyu's flirting had persevered, with a mixture of subtle physical contact, pet names, longing stares, hell, he'd even caught you in a back hug a few times (his large frame dwarfing you from behind was something you prohibited yourself from thinking about after such instances). It was safe to say that you were now pretty convinced that your original assessment had been wrong.

Mingyu did genuinely like you. And he was not shy in his attempts to make you his.

He'd been nonchalant about it, but he'd asked you out a few times so far. When you'd reject him, he'd only chuckle, biting his lip and eyeing you up and down before leaving with satisfaction in his eyes. It was like your constant rejections kept him going. It was driving you insane.

Knowing someone like Mingyu — tall, handsome, intelligent, accomplished, etc. etc. etc. — was so into you was breaking you down little by little. It was safe to say that your attraction to him had grown with the passing of time. There was just something about his insistence that got to you (that and the yummy packaging he happened to come in).

It was winter at the time, which usually came accompanied by lots and lots of business. Whether it was for winter themed celebrations, or the holidays themselves, you received personalized orders quite often. Sometimes you'd even have to manage all the catering when it came to sweets.

Winter also came with its downsides. Such as sickness going around. The kitchen just so happened to be a place small enough for sickness to spread quite quickly. And it just so happened that most of your staff had fallen ill, including your father, who usually liked to oversee this specific time of the year with a watchful eye.

Down to four people, you'd have to handle most of everything on your own for at least the following week.

And, of course, Mingyu just so happened to be one of those people. That left you with Mingyu, yourself, the delivery boy, and some poor unsuspecting soul who'd have to bare witness to the tension that'd undoubtedly fill the bakery while you and Mingyu were there almost completely alone.

It almost made you feel bad for them.

Almost.

"Well, Lucy called in sick. It's just you and me now," was the first thing Mingyu said upon clocking in, already tying his apron behind his back — always tight enough to show off his godly form.

You had already been freaking out at the consistent decrease in healthy employees. This did not help your nerves at all. You were sure the grimace on your face must've shown it.

"W-what? Lucy's gone? We can't get all this work done with only three people, much less just us!", you felt yourself start to freak out.

Mingyu crossed the threshold of the kitchen then, hands going directly to your shoulders to direct your attention to him.

"Listen. I graduated with honors in culinary school, and so did you. We got this, okay? Your dad trusts you to be in charge for a reason," Mingyu reassured.

For once, there was no flirtation or teasing in his voice, but instead compassion.

Somehow, he managed to calm you down immediately. You almost fell for the care in his eyes and initiated a hug to express your gratitude.

Almost.

Snapping out of it, you took his hands off your shoulders and stepped away, huffing out an awkward 'yea, thanks' before walking over to get your own apron. All you got from Mingyu in response was a chuckle, leading you to believe he'd noticed your flustered state.

Whatever. You had more pressing things to worry about today.

~

Three hours into the day, everything was more calm. You'd gotten over the biggest hurdles of your current orders. There were a total of three large catering orders to fulfill, seeing as you'd closed down the shop due to illness suddenly falling to literally all of your employees.

As of now, you and Mingyu had a pretty good handle on it. You'd managed to work smoothly with each other while you didn't bicker.

Currently you were working separately, you decorating the frosting of a mass amount of cupcakes for a winter wedding while Mingyu stood at the opposing counter and worked on the cake, quietly humming some tune as he did so. It was calm and quiet. Quite odd for the two of you.

Suddenly, you felt a presence next to you. But you remained focused.

"You're kind of slow at this."

You rolled your eyes, ignoring him.

"I could help you," he sing-sang.

"Are you done with the cake already?"

"What can I say? I'm the best at what I do."

"Is this your plan to get me to like you back? Bug me until I break down?", you finally let yourself look to the side, being met with the sight of a very pleased Mingyu.

"Oh, no, I have way better plans for that."

He didn't say anything after that. Not until you felt a huge presence wrap itself around you from behind, once again taking a hold of your hands and beginning to guide your movements as you frosted the cupcakes with their intricate designs. You weren't sure why you let your body be limp and allow him to do as he wished, but you did so anyway.

Your body worked against you, leaning into him as he got closer to you by the second. It wasn't long until his mouth made it close enough to your ear, breath hitting it and resulting in a barely-there shiver.

"See? It's easier when I help you. Not so bad, is it?", he murmured.

You used your shoulder to nudge him away, creating some distance between you and scoffing at his boldness. You shuffled a few steps away, leaving him leaning against nothing as you continued to do your work. Maybe you were weak, but you would not let yourself fall so easily. That'd mean giving him all the power.

"C'mon. You know this isn't one sided. I've seen how you look at me," he chuckled in disbelief.

You continued to give him the cold shoulder while he took a spot next to you on the counter, a smirk on his face as you petulantly ignored him. It was clear to you he was entertained by the concept of chasing you. It was unfortunate that you also kind of enjoyed it.

Mingyu scoot over more and more by the second, not bothering to be subtle at all.

"So you're saying that these past twelve years have been a genuine feud to you? You actually hate me?", he didn't believe the words as he asked him, disbelief in his tone.

"Shut up, Mingyu."

His body fully faced yours now, only able to see your side profile as you continued to stubbornly work, your attempts in ignoring him decreasing by the minute.

"Well, it wasn't like that for me. I always kind of hoped we'd both come back home from college, fresh and new, and completely forget about the stupid games we played when we were kids," he took a few steps forward, "And I know that you want the same thing. Maybe you didn't plan for it to happen, but now you're changing your mind about me. I'm not an idiot. I know you better than you think."

"It's not like that," you finally turned to face him, exasperated, "It's the forced proximity. You're just getting in my head and-"

"Am I?", he cornered you once again, hands stopping your own from their movements.

"Or maybe I've always been in your head," he turned you to face him, completely crowding you against the counter and leaving not an inch of space between you. Your middles were connected and your chest went up and down in such deep breaths that your upper halves were almost touching.

"I think you want me too. And I think you never really hated me. It was all just in your head. Just a sick amount of sexual tension hidden by some stupid rivalry," his hands locked around your wrists, placing them flat on his chest as he dared lean down.

Contrary to the cold, unaffected facade you wanted to present to him, you gulped up at him. He'd been right with the 'sexual tension' bit. It had been bugging at you for days now, invading your time alone and even, on occasion, your dreams. And now that he stood so close to you, acknowledging that much as he stared down at you with full intent on following through with whatever tension was filling the room at the moment ... it had you heating up, to say the least.

But still, that stubborn part of you at the very back of your brain still insisted on attempting to hit the brakes one last time — even if it was the last thing you actually wanted to do.

"Mingyu-"

"You know, you've never actually rejected me. You've told me you hate me, that I'm the bane of your existence, that you hope I get fired, but you've never actually told me to stop," he interrupted, "So. Tell me. Tell me to stop. Tell me that no part of you wants me back and I'll stop."

He looked at you with a mixture of conviction and self-assuredness in his eye. As if he knew what the outcome of his challenge would be.

A few silent seconds passed. Your body was not cooperating with your mind. The former wanted to pull him down, close the distance and damn any work you had left to do. The latter, though, prevented you from even speaking. Your mouth opened slightly, but nothing came out.

Mingyu tilted his head to the side in amusement before putting you out of his misery. One of his hands left the counter where it had been bracketing you against it, coming up to your chin and tilting it upwards, challenging you even further.

"I know you. I know that stubborn brain of yours won't let you admit to defeat. It's one of my favorite things about you," he breathed against you, face close enough that his airy voice landed directly on your lips, "Which is why I'm going to do this for the both of us."

Nowhere in your mind had you ever expected Mingyu to kiss you softly. Up until a month ago, you had never even entertained the thought of it ever actually happening (except maybe once or twice in passing — moments you'd buried deep down due to your burning dislike for him). It didn't come as much of a shock when the first kiss he'd given you was filled with more passion than your body could handle.

Mingyu pressed up against you, with an aggression that suggested any amount of space between you offended him. His hands went to your waist, ensuring there was no escape from this (not that you wanted any). And in a similar fashion, you mimicked the fervor of his kiss, hands already pulling at his hair and earning groans of pleasure vibrating into your mouth.

It was very reminiscent of your relationship. It was a competition. An attempt to show the other who was better, who was in charge.

But as per usual, Mingyu just so happened to get the upper hand.

His lips traveled down to your jaw, finding your neck and leisurely making a home there. Heavy breaths were released by the two of you as you attempted to catch your breaths. Mingyu had started panting out words, but it took your brain a few moments before it could begin processing words after that kiss.

"Fuck ... Can't fucking stand being around you. You drive me insane," he groaned when his hips couldn't help themselves but begin a slow grind against your own.

You still couldn't say anything. Only embarrassing mewls and pathetic excuses for his name would leave your lips as his hands felt you up, the simple movement of his hips already making you lose your mind.

"Made me work so fucking hard for this," his lips found your ear, one had tilting your head to the side so he could bite and the lobe and lick at it teasingly, "But it was all worth it ... Look at you, being so nice and pretty for me."

A sigh left your lips at his whispers. Had your brain been at full function, you would've argued back, would've maybe tried switching your roles and taken charge. But, as embarrassing as it was to admit, turning off your brain and becoming a dumb, brainless version of yourself as he dry humped you to heaven was too enticing to pass up.

His hands made work of both your aprons within seconds, finding comfort under your shirt quickly after. The teasing touch of his cold fingers tracing your skin made your breath hitch, but still no coherent words left you. You continued to be limp against the counter, happy to be sandwiched by him.

"'m just gonna take this off ... Okay, baby? ... Yeah, see? Fuck, so pretty. Show up to work with this pretty thing? Shit ..."

That's how you ended up shirtless in your parents' bakery, a pretty lace number covering your breasts while Mingyu pawed at it with awe. His lips trailed down to your chest, kissing at the bare skin with a starved demeanor. Hands continued to play at your clothed breasts, with your hardened peaks receiving just enough stimulation to have your head falling back.

Mingyu nosed at your skin. His kisses were endless despite the limited skin available. Your mind felt dizzy at such stimulation so close to your nipples. You were aching for more.

Your back arched, pressing your chest closer to his lips and mewling when he took the hint, wrapping his lips around your nipple through the thin fabric of the bralette. Teeth toyed teasingly at you through the cloth, but it still had your eyes fluttering.

Fortunately for you, Mingyu was just as desperate as you for more direct contact, which led him to ripping off the flimsy piece of lace separating him from your breasts. A gasp was all you could do to complain, too distracted to actually scold him for his carelessness when his hands began to teasingly toy at your bare tits, giving you some stimulation, but still not what you were truly aching for.

But as soon as he started, he stopped, pulling an annoyed whine from you.

"Gyu-"

Disregarding you, he reached over to the frosting you'd been working with before he interrupted you. Swiping a few fingers through the cream, he brought his hand forward, causing your eyes to follow it as if entranced.

His movements led you to believe that he wanted you to suck the cream from his hands. Something which made you pulse down south, as embarrassing as it was to admit. But before his fingers reached your awaiting mouth, he redirected them towards his own, humming in exaggerated bliss as he sucked at his own fingers, eyes zeroing down on your face.

Your eyes may have expressed some annoyance, but you both knew you were aching for him.

"Mm, it's good," he hummed, "Wanna try?"

You made it. You knew it was good. But you nodded regardless. You wanted to taste it. Taste him.

He kissed you again, tongue going directly into your mouth and passing any remnants of it from his tongue to yours. Meanwhile, you froze, shirtless, waiting for something, anything else, while he abused your mouth with his tongue.

Embarrassingly enough, you couldn't help but try and suck any sweetness out of his tongue, moaning into his lips as he reacted to you, a slight smirk forming against your face.

"Good, huh?," he smiled satisfied once he pulled away, "But I think it'd taste better if I ..."

Then you felt a sudden coldness on your chest, making you gasp at the cold feeling on your burning skin.

The bastard had smeared frosting on your tits.

Your breath became even heavier than it already was. The falling and rising of your chest said everything your horny brain couldn't muster out. And similarly, Mingyu's breath hitched at the sight, eyes glued directly to your tits with eyes that told you he was pained to not have you in his mouth at this very moment.

So then he remedied that problem.

He started off teasingly, as he always did. His tongue was tentative as it made contact with your cream-battered nipple. The tip of his tongue circled at it, finishing off with what you could only call sheer desperation as he wrapped his mouth around it, suckling at it until nothing was left and refusing to stop there.

One of his hands gripped at your waist harshly, insistent on keeping you folded against him while the other held onto your tit, angling it towards his mouth so he could continue uselessly cleaning it from the mess he'd made. The same happened to your other breast, licking, biting and sucking to the point where you had trouble remaining standing.

"Tastes way better like this," he mumbled with a mouth full of tit.

You'd never seen him like this. So depraved and insistent on making out with your breasts. The usually put-together Mingyu was gone, instead replaced by what embodied the spirit of a hormonal teenager. His groans of pleasure made your head fall back, acting as if he were the one receiving the pleasure. Multiple times he went back for more cream, teasing your nipples with his fingers as he smeared it on you before continuing to clean it up with his tongue.

"Fuck. Thought about doing this so many times. All the dirty, depraved things I've been wanting to do to you in this kitchen," he sighed once he took a break, puffing out a warm breath against the abused skin.

Your head was fully empty by now. There was nothing but hot air swimming up there. Mingyu had made you a useless version of yourself, uncaring about the poise you were supposed to display in your workplace and only wanting to offer yourself up to him to do whatever he wanted.

His lips trailed their way up, hands replacing where his lips had just been, and reconnected your mouths, humming in pleasure at touching you. His hips began moving with yours, forcing you against the counter while your tongues squelched with one another.

"Wanna fuck you. Do you think your dad'll fire me if I fuck you in here?"

"Don't care," you huffed, hands going to his jeans and haphazardly undoing the belt, "I'll fire you if you don't."

He chuckled mid kiss, "Don't worry, pretty. I'll fuck you. We're going to have to work overtime cleaning up from all the dirty things I'm going to do to you."

Aiding you in the removal of his pants, he lowered them just enough to pull his dick out of his boxers, groaning when you took hold of it and began playing with it. The size had your eyes rolling. You'd always assumed, on lonely nights under your sheets, that Mingyu would be well endowed. He was a perfect 10 in every other area of his life, so of course he'd have a big dick. But knowing that the monster you were currently holding in your hand — not even able to circle your entire hand around it — would be breaking its way inside you made you shudder.

In retaliation to your touches, he did the same to you, forcing your pants down to get easy access to your wetness and groaning when he found a mess under your panties.

"This wet, baby? Just kissed you a little and you're this wet for me? I thought you hated me," he gave you a cocky look as his knuckle pressed onto your clit, adding some pressure as he circled it.

You gasped out your response, calling him a dick and squeezing at his tip to get him to shut up.

He must've either taken the hint or taken it as a challenge, opting to readjust his hand so he could push in two fingers, managing to push you onto the counter whilst finger fucking you. The speed of his fingers was precise, hammering in and out of you and curling at the perfect time, hitting that one specific spot inside you that made your voice go a few notes higher.

You couldn't form any words, barely able to keep working him in your hand either. You were completely lost to the pleasure, especially when his mouth climbed back down and went back to your overly sensitive tits. They were swollen and completely abused with spit, but his attention was still more than welcomed.

"Need you to cum before you take me, okay, pretty?," his request was muffled against your breast.

"Want it now," you whined, hips uselessly grinding into his hand.

"Shh. You'll have it, pretty girl. Just, fuck, need you to cum for me just this once, okay? I'll give it to you, I promise. I'll give it to you and never stop," it was easy for Mingyu to lose himself in his dirty talk, but you adored every word that left his lips. He could threaten you with pleasure all he wanted, you'd take it the same way you'd taken all his snark against you all these years.

When he introduced another finger to the mess between your legs, you finally came. You were sure the sight was as messy as it felt, your body arching impossibly closer to the source of pleasure, head thrown back and internment gasps leaving your lips. Your fingers dug into his muscles, unsure of when you'd clawed his shirt off but thankful for the access to his skin.

You were welcomed back to reality by uncharacteristically soft kisses pressed to your neck, moving their way up to your cheeks and then your lips, ending with a pleased hum.

Your eyes finally opened, taking in the boy in front of you, practically fully nude and with his skin now full of scratch marks (courtesy of you), skin sweaty and hair an after-sex mess.

"Fuck, you're so fucking hot."

He chuckled at your bluntness, eyebrows raising in amusement.

"Yeah, pretty. I think you're pretty hot too. Always thought so. Prettiest girl I've ever seen," he managed to turn it into something soft despite the shared knowledge that his aching cock was currently pressed against your thigh.

"You'll fuck me now, right?", you put your arms on his shoulders, pulling him towards you with seduction in your eyes.

"Y-yeah, I- shit, yeah, baby."

Scooting to the edge of the counter, you wrapped your legs around his waist, forcing him as close as physically possible before reaching down to his hardness. His arms held onto your legs, pulling you towards him and angling your hips so your cunt could face him better.

Deciding to be a tease this time around, you held onto his dick, circling his tip around your clit and sighing at the hot, wet stimulation, earning a similar reaction from him.

"Hmm, fuck. Put it in before I lose my mind."

That was good enough for you.

It took a few moments to get his torturously big length inside you, earning constant cries from you followed by grumbles from Mingyu. He buried his head in your neck, suckling at your skin any time you pulsed a little harder as he intruded inside you.

"Warmest fucking cunt, god," he sighed, "Been wanting to feel you since high school ... Prettiest cunt, oh, fuck. Can I move? Hm? Need to move, baby, tell me I can."

This was the first time you'd ever heard Mingyu beg. And as much as you wanted to bask in it, maybe get him on his knees, pleading to get his fill of you, you were far too gone to do anything more than whine at him to move, to break you and render you useless.

Your mouth dropped open when he began hammering at you, hands wrapped around your thighs and pulling you as close as possibly. His inhuman strength managed to move your body in sync with his thrusts, doing all the work himself as you became a limp doll for him to use. All you provided were cries of his names and red lines drawn down his back. But he seemed to enjoy it. Each scratch, each squeal of his name was met with groans and with an extra harsh thrust into you.

"G-gyu, fuck, just like that. Oh, fuck, please," you had no idea what you were pleading for, but you needed more.

You'd never felt this needy. Never felt such a carnal necessity for a man like you did for Mingyu. It felt like a full circle moment. Your disdain for Mingyu had left you weeks ago, replaced by a sheer thirst for him, but not only sexually. Even as he humped into you, you felt an sense of completeness from being in his hold.

And then, before you knew it, your second orgasm consumed you, causing you to tighten around him and earning an uncharacteristically high cry from him. His hips sped up, desperate to reach his own high, hands practically pulling you off the counter to push your hips against his own. The repetitive slapping of skin was loud and resonated into the empty room.

"Gonna fill you up, baby. Gonna get you all pretty and creamy for me," he huffed out between breaths, "Wanna see me dripping down your legs before I clean it all up for you."

And he fulfilled his promise, squirting his cum deep inside you with a groan of your name. Once finished, he finally deflated against you, loud as he attempted to regain his breath back.

There was some silence for a while. Maybe because you both needed time to learn how to breathe again, or maybe because you were both still in shock at the intensity of what'd just happened. Regardless, you held onto each other, uncaring that you were still very much naked in what was supposed to be a public place, creating a safety hazard in your workplace.

"Well, that was ..."

"Yeah," you agreed.

He pulled his head away from your neck, offering you a bashful smile. His hands stayed on you, though, caressing at your skin with a contrasting softness.

"Does this mean you'll go on a date with me, or am I fired for jumping you in the kitchen?"

You laughed, genuinely so. This was probably one of the very rare times in which you did so in front of Mingyu, but you meant it. No longer did you feel like scowling at his presence.

You realized now that his feelings had been mutual. Too many half-baked inferences to his feelings were had in the throes of passion for you to question it anymore.

And maybe the feeling was mutual.

"Yes, Mingyu. I'll let you take me on a date."

to read short 2k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my svt monthly tier on patreon!

content: smut, afab reader, mentions of previous semi-public sex, nipple play (m receiving), dry humping, penetrative sex, mentions of blowjob, food play (frosting), etc.

wc: 426 (teaser); 2007 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"I'm very proud of the work the two of you did last week," your dad began, "The workload was too big for two people, but you two managed to get it done. Great job."

When your dad had called you and Mingyu over for a private meeting after last week's events, you had to admit, you were terrified.

After that first day alone playing around in the kitchen and wasting perfectly useful frosting in activities you could never reveal to your father, you ended up having to work the entire rest of the week alone with Mingyu. And it was safe to say that the events of that first day repeated time and time again. The two of you made use of the empty space, disregarding any possible health violations.

Fortunately, your fears of your father possibly finding you out were alleviated by his sudden praise.

You had to agree. It was surprising that you and Mingyu had been able to get all that work done. Not only due to the impossible amount of work, but also because of the constant distractions you provided for the other.

Standing next to you, you could feel Mingyu's enormous sigh of relief at your father's words. Before making your way into his office, the poor boy's tanned skin had gone pale at the paranoia of what was to come.

"Maybe when this one takes over for me, you could he her second in command," he turned to Mingyu with a smile, "The two of you make a great team. And for your hard work, I'd like to give you the day off. Full pay, and you can also take one of the leftovers cakes from last night."

Before you could respond with wonder, your dad spoke up again.

"Here. Take my car keys. You kids go have fun," he patted your back as he walked away, leaving the two of you in his office as he went back to the bustling kitchen.

The two of you stood there, not having expected such sudden reward. It had only been one day since everyone came back to work, joining you and Mingyu with the heavy workload that always accompanied winter, yet you were suddenly being offered time off and free pastries.

"I think your dad wants us to have se-"

"Don't finish that sentence," you slapped at his chest, earning a wince.

"I mean. A car, money, cake? Do you remember what we did last time we had cake at our disposition? I ate it off of your-"

"Mingyu!"

"Okay, fine!"

...

find the 18+ continuation on patreon!

if you have trouble finding it on there, just let me know!!<3

[sleepyhoon]

BAJA BLAST - S.JY

pairing. religious stepbro!jake x fem reader genre. drabble, porn w plot warnings. virgin perv jake, stepcest, religious themes, brief mention of alcoholism & death word count. 3.5k smut tags. degradation, dry humping (i guess…), handjob, jake sucks reader’s tits thru her shirt, p in v for like 30 seconds.

a/n. hmm trying to get into darker themes to expand my genres a bit more … not too sure how i feel abt it yet but it was interesting to explore a new trope! i understand darker tropes aren’t for everyone sooo feel free to skip over if this isn’t for you!! <3

———

“You’re disgusting, and you’re not gonna find a God-fearing husband if you keep parading yourself like a slut.”

Jake pries your legs open a little wider, further situating himself between your thighs as he smears his precum on the core of your panties. He glances up at you when you scoff, knees digging into the mattress as he drags the tip of his cock along your clothed cunt. “What?” he sneers, raising a brow at you.

“You have a girlfriend and you’re getting yourself off between someone else’s legs; you’re the slut,” Jake’s cock twitches in the palm of his hand at your insult, you take a mental note of this, “and, I don’t even want a God-fearing husband, whatever that is.”

“It means a religious husband, genius. None of them probably want you anyway, so the feeling is mutual.”

Degrading as it may be, this is the shit that gets Jake off; certainly not his prude, preacher’s daughter girlfriend who only allows him to kiss her for a few seconds at a time, because anything longer than that could be “too tempting”.

He didn’t hate Chaeyoung in the slightest, but he likely wouldn’t have made all that effort to court her had he known she was saving herself for marriage in every aspect. No lingering touches, no suggestive comments, and certainly no racy photos; the poor boy would’ve been fine with her sitting on his lap every now and then if it meant he’d get to jerk off from the weight of someone on top of him.

Much like Chaeyoung, Jake was on the treacherous path of saving himself for marriage, but even he allowed himself a bit of wiggle room. Saving himself entirely for marriage was beyond unrealistic, but he was willing to at least avoid shoving his dick in someone before there was a ring on his finger if it meant he could get off in other ways.

Jake didn’t have the heart to break up with Chaeyoung just because she wanted to stay pure until marriage, but he wasn’t planning on waiting that long to finally get his dick wet. Besides, breaking up with the preacher’s daughter for seemingly no reason was a bad look, especially considering that Jake was the youth pastor at the same exact church.

Aside from the pastor and his wife, Jake and Chaeyoung were the only couple treated as royalty in their church community. They were seen as devoted followers of Christ whilst showcasing what an appropriate, God-fearing, young, Christian couple should look like. From the outside looking in (or even just looking from his girlfriend’s perspective), they truly did resemble a perfect couple.

How Jake got into jerking off between his step-sister’s thighs was a long story.

His original plan was to keep his distance when he first met you a little over a year ago, a few months before his father was preparing to marry your mother. Jake didn’t take kindly to you at first, bewildered on how such a respectful, faith-driven woman such as your mother could produce a daughter the exact opposite of her. Your outfits were entirely too skimpy, you had a horrible attitude, and you had tattoos. In Jake’s eyes, you were the definition of sin.

And that’s exactly why he felt disgusted with himself when he realized he was desperately attracted to you.

It was horrible, the countless nights he’d spent jerking himself off to the thought of you sinking down on his cock and riding him until he passed out. He’s certain his stamina is low and would probably finish in under five minutes, but it doesn’t hurt to dream; and that he does.

Until you showed up to his apartment one Monday morning with a large Baja Blast from Taco Bell and a proposition.

“Taco Bell at ten in the morning, seriously?”

You hadn’t greeted him with a “Good morning!” or “Hey, how are you?” and instead jumped the gun and went straight into, “Hey, you know how my dad died?”

Jake held his front door open, running a hand through his messy, morning hair in confusion as he responded, “Wasn’t it from, like, alcoholism?”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Yeah, but I meant like… you know that he’s dead, right? Also, Taco Bell serves breakfast, genius.”

“YN, it’s too early for this.” Jake says with a frustrated sigh, prepared to close the door in your face because it’s way too early to deal with your bullshit.

“I’m getting his inheritance from my grandmother, a huge one.”

Jake tried his best at attempting to hide the look of shock on his face. From his knowledge, your grandparents were loaded; practically rolling in money since the moment they were born. Having your father’s inheritance transferred to you was a blessing, Jake didn’t even want to imagine the useless crap you’d waste that money on.

“Congrats, did you come here to rub it in my face?”

You sighed, slightly embarrassed and a little defeated knowing you’d need Jake’s help. You felt entirely guilty for even coming to him in the first place, the two of you weren’t close and hardly spoke outside of gatherings, the only reason you showed up to his apartment was because you didn’t have his phone number; only his address you had to scroll in your GPS to find from the one time you drove him home.

“No, I’m not here to brag. I need your help.”

Jake hesitantly opened his door wider, allowing you into his home that you nervously pace around in. “Help with what?” he asked, locking the door behind him.

“I don’t get the inheritance until after my grandma dies.”

“YN, are you crazy?! I am not helping you kill your grandmother!”

“What?! Jake, no! God, just let me finish.” An awkward beat of silence passed before you continued, “She says I’m not getting the inheritance unless I get into religion and be involved in church.”

“Yeah, can’t help with that.” Jake took a moment to look you up and down, eyes focusing on the fresh tattoo right under your knee, “You’re gonna need a miracle.”

You followed behind Jake like a helpless puppy as he entered his kitchen, nervously toying with your fingers as you set your drink down on the kitchen counter, “I know we aren’t really close, and that’s partially my fault, but I’d really appreciate it if you could help me out with this.”

“With what, YN? You haven’t said what you’d need me to do.”

“Just, every so often, tell my family that I’m involved in church and help out. Shit like that.”

Jake chuckled, powering on his Nespresso, “As if that’s gonna work. You know your family goes to church, right? What are they gonna think if they don’t see you there but I’m telling them you showed up? They’d see right through it.”

“They don’t go every Sunday! I’ll just check ahead of time and go with them whenever they do go, and on the days they don’t go you’d be able to cover for me.”

Jake sighed with a shake of his head, reaching into his cabinet to retrieve a coffee mug, “It’s not just Sunday service, YN. They also go to bible study and help plan church events. Your family is very involved in the community.”

“Again, they don’t attend every event, right? I’ll go when they go and you cover when I can’t! And, besides, it’s not like they’re expecting me to go to every single event; as long as they think I’m putting in effort I’ll be fine.”

You seemed proud of yourself and your plan, which only annoyed your step-brother even further, because you clearly hadn’t thought this through.

“What’s in it for me?”

You paused, quirking a brow at Jake, “What do you mean?”

“We barely even know each other and you expect me to do this big favor for you for free? Be realistic.”

“Well, what do you want?”

“I want…half of the inheritance.”

“Jake, even you know that’s too much.”

Yeah, maybe he was being a little petty, but it was your own fault for asking for a favor like this and not offering him anything in return. He may not know the exact amount of your inheritance, but based on your reaction, it had to be a life changing amount of money; enough to give him a portion of.

“I’d rather not say what the exact amount is,” you start, looking down at your sneakers, “but it’s a lot, and I’m definitely willing to give you a fraction of it if you help me out. Just not half.”

“How much?”

“For you? Fifty-thousand.”

Jake dropped the ceramic mug to the ground, eyes widening as the cup broke and scattered across the kitchen floor. You flinched, jumping back on instinct while he remained frozen in place. “Fifty-thousand dollars?”

You wanted to tell him it’s truly nothing compared to the amount you’d have leftover, and that you’d offer him more if he insisted on it, but fifty-thousand seems to be enough for him. Instead, you nodded, carefully backing into the living room to avoid accidentally stepping on the ceramic shards.

“Does that work?”

It was too late to pretend your offer wasn’t more than he’d been expecting, but still, Jake had no reason to believe you’d hold up to your end of the deal; even if giving him fifty-thousand dollars would hardly make a dent in what you’d be receiving.

Jake shook his head, “I don’t know you, how can I trust you’ll actually give it to me?”

“You can’t just take my word?”

“The only word I take is the word of God.”

You should’ve seen that one coming.

Jake continued, “I want a down payment that I can receive now; something so that if you don’t pay me, I still got something out of our agreement.”

Intrigued, and a little frightened, you tilted your head at him, “Money?”

Jake shrugged in response, carefully stepping over the shards of ceramic, “Doesn’t have to be, your mom says you don’t have much of it.”

“I have money!”

Jake rolled his eyes, retrieving a broom and dustpan from the hallway closet, “Right, because your part-time barista job pays so much.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, “I really don’t know what else to offer you.”

“Better think of something or you’re on your own.”

The sound of ceramic clicking together as Jake cleans filled the silence, leaving you to brainstorm on what he would accept as a down payment offer. Money wasn’t an option, and you didn’t know enough about Jake’s interests to offer him some sort of bribe.

However, Jake is a man. Yes, a religious one, but still a man. If you’re lucky enough, there’s one thing you could offer that no man, not even Jake, would pass up.

“Chaeyoung is saving herself for marriage, right?”

Jake paused, suspiciously glancing at you over his shoulder, “I don’t see how that’s any of your business, but yes.”

You nodded, “Are you?”

“Again, not your business, but yes.”

“What about loopholes?”

Jake fully turned around this time, narrowing his eyes at you, “YN, where are you going with this?”

You shrugged, defensively raising your hands, “What if I was your loophole? Like, I help you get off however you want without actually having sex, so it won’t count as sinning. And, trust me, I won’t tell anyone.”

Jesus Christ, you seriously wanted the inheritance that bad?

Jake immediately wanted to accept the offer and drag you straight into his room, but he couldn’t; he had to be nonchalant about this or risk you revoking your suggestion.

He faked a look of disgust, a confused, twisted snarl on his face as he responded, “But, you’re my step-sister; isn’t that wrong?”

You shrugged, “I don’t care if you don’t. Plus, we’re adults and we barely even know each other, it’s not like our parents married years ago and we grew up as siblings.”

Fair point, not that Jake needed any further convincing.

“I’m not offering you this again, by the way. You either accept it now or you’ll never get the chance again,” you warn Jake, taking a seat down on the edge of his couch.

After a few long moments of pretending to weigh his options, Jake extended the end of the broomstick in your direction, slowly using the handle of it to lift your skirt. You didn’t react, your eyes following the edge of the broomstick as Jake continued his actions. He lowered his head slightly, confused as to why he couldn’t see your panties, until he realized.

You weren’t wearing any.

He cleared his throat, quickly pulling the broom away before leaning it up against the wall. “Sure, whatever, I guess. As long as you don’t tell anyone.”

Easiest deal of his life.

Jake made sure you kept to your end of the deal, and maybe took some advantage of it.

The first incident occurred a few weeks after the agreement, when Jake had to cover for you upon missing Sunday service due to you being hungover.

“She was up all night designing flyers for the coat drive next week,” Jake addressed your mother’s concerns, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder, “she really wanted to come to today’s service, but I told her she should get some rest.”

Your mother clutched her heart, staring up at Jake in complete awe, “YN? My YN?”

Jake nodded, a sheepish grin on his face as he responded, “The one and only.”

Your mother was skeptical, tilting her head at her stepson with her brows furrowed, “Just doesn’t sound like something she would do, unless there was something in it for her, of course. You’re not covering for her, are you?”

Jake faked a laugh, “The only thing YN is covered in is the blood of Jesus Christ.”

…And apparently Jake’s cum only a few hours later.

“…Now, guess who’s stuck designing flyers for the coat drive? Me!”

“I told you I would do it, you little brat,” your fist tightens around Jake’s clothed cock and he groans, squeezing his eyes shut at the new, uncomfortable, yet pleasant sensation.

You were slightly off-put and a little humored when Jake showed up to your apartment requesting, “A handjob but I, like, keep my boxers on. Like, just do it through my clothes.”

“Wouldn’t you rather…have your boxers off?”

“Are you nuts? I’m not letting you touch me,” he’d said, unbuttoning his dress pants as he lowered himself on your mattress.

You obliged his request, awkwardly rubbing him through his boxers, watching as his facial expressions changed so quickly and constantly. His brows would furrow then relax, lips would twitch before sinking his teeth in them, all while he tried his best not to finish embarrassingly quick.

Which didn’t work.

Jake was already on the edge of cumming when you lowered your head down to his groin, placing a small peck against the head of his clothed cock, the material sticky and wet from his precum.

His body jolts at the touch, arching off the mattress with swears spewing from his lips as his orgasm washed over him. He shoves his boxers down in record time, grinning to himself when you groan in agony when his cum lands on your cheek.

Had you been literally anyone else, maybe Jake would’ve felt bad that he came so quickly and didn’t have the energy nor interest to give you anything in return; but he didn’t. This was an agreement, and as long as the two of you held to both your ends of the deal, there was nothing to feel bad about. He didn’t owe you anything else.

Surprisingly enough, the arrangements weren’t happening as frequently as Jake hoped they would.

You immersed yourself into the church community, showing up to Sunday Worship and Bible Study as if it were a second nature. Jake should be proud, really, that you’re serious about being devoted; even if it was under the premise of obtaining your father’s inheritance, but he’s pissed.

He waited weeks for you to slip up, intentionally scheduling a Bible Study session or some church fundraiser at a time where he knows you’ll be busy and have no choice to skip, but you show up.

To every fucking event. Until you don’t.

Your younger cousin was getting baptized and you missed it, and if it weren’t for Jake making up some lame excuse and covering for your ass, your mother would’ve gone ballistic on you.

Jake’s happy to cover for you, though, knowing he’d be getting something in return not too long afterwards.

After weeks of feigning, that simple slip up was how Jake found him back between your thighs, pumping his cock along the outline of your cunt through your thin panties.

“Whatever,” you sneer, propping yourself up on your elbows, “marriage is the last thing on my mind right now.”

Jake rolls his eyes, pausing and grateful at the fact that he has a better of your tits. For some godforsaken reason, the air conditioner in your home is always on full blast, and despite assuring your guests that you don’t feel that cold, your body certainly says otherwise; if the way your hardened nippled poke through your shirt is anything to go by.

He licks his lips, pumping his dick a little faster as he leans down and traces his tongue along your clothed nipple. You’re saying something, maybe asking him what he’s doing or to keep going, but he can’t hear you; having you like this is new territory for him, nothing else in the world mattered at this moment.

His saliva stains your t-shirt as he continues, moaning against your chest as he flicks his tongue against your bud. Jake lightly traps your nipple between his teeth, tugging on it just enough to sting before releasing it once again, lapping his tongue against it as if to apologize.

Your hand moves to his hair, giving it a tight grip as Jake moans before shoving your arm away entirely. “Are you insane?! Don’t touch me!”

“But-”

“Wait.”

Fuck, that felt good. It wasn’t much but it felt so fucking good.

He needed more of you, fuck all this waiting for marriage bullshit. He tried his best for as long as he could, and he doesn’t want to fucking wait anymore.

“I wanna try something,” he mumbles, wasting no time in pushing your panties to the side. The sight of your glistening cunt is enough to make his mouth water, and Jake swears he can hear a choir of angels singing as he stares down at it in awe.

“Jake, I thought-”

“Fuck that,” Jake is quick to cut you off, already knowing what your next words were, “I don’t wanna wait anymore; show me how.”

“How to what?”

“The one thing you know how to do.”

“Oh, fuck you. You’re such an asshole.” You say, but it doesn’t stop you from maneuvering your right hand between your bodies and gripping the base of Jake’s cock, encouraging him to scoot forward as you guide him directly to your hole.

You don’t move him any further, making the choice of letting Jake decide whether he’s serious about this.

He is.

He presses the head of his cock further into you, squeezing his eyes shut as you wrap around him so snug and perfect. He stills his movements, head dropping to your shoulder with a groan.

It’s already too much and he’s not even halfway in. It feels too good, so wet and warm and tight, better than he could’ve ever imagined.

“Fuck…”, he mumbles into your shoulder, taking note of how none of this barely had an effect on you.

“It’s okay,” you assure him in an oddly sweet tone, “try moving.”

“I can’t, think I’m gonna come if I do.”

“You’ll be fine, just-”

Jake lets out a loud, frustrated groan as he raises his head away from your shoulder, “You wouldn’t fucking get it.”

Jake spent too many countless nights imagining this very scenario, and now that it’s finally happening he can barely even handle it. Everything feels too good and it’s all too much for him to bear.

He pulls his dick out of you entirely, giving himself a few hard pumps as his impending orgasm approaches. It looks almost painful, the way he’s gripping and pumping his cock, how red his tip is, you’re surprised a few tears don’t slip from his eyes when he finally does finish, painting your thighs with his cum as his body trembles.

He rests a shaky hand on your knee, grip on his cock softening as he makes a mess across your panties, thick, white ropes of cum staining your underwear.

“Fuck,” Jake mumbles to himself as he steadies his breathing. He’s never came this hard before, to the point where he feels exhausted and genuinely empty.

“Are you…okay?” You ask, cringing at the sticky feeling between your thighs.

Jake nods slowly, sitting himself up as he tucks his now-softened cock back into his boxers, “Let’s, uh, get cleaned up so we can go.”

His head his spinning as he rises from your bed, a dizzy feeling coming over him as he stands. Fuck, maybe this is why he should’ve waited for marriage.

“Go where?”

“Bible study is starting soon,” he explains, “if we leave now we can stop by Taco Bell beforehand, I need a Baja Blast.”

[pathologicalreid]

i'll be home for christmas | s.r.

in which you, Spencer, and your toddler prepare for what will hopefully be your first Christmas together as a family

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: just a little family grocery shopping. domestic!spencer, chemist/professor!reader, the spencer reid dilf agenda, toddler tantrums word count: 889 a/n: this fic is basically my christmas present for lia. this is her errand fic which has literally been on my list of fics to write since october!!! i am home for the holidays!! so the title felt appropriate

The holidays were starting to get overwhelming. It was no longer enough to take Christmas Day off with a container of store-bought Christmas cookies and text Spencer in whichever state he’d been called away to. No, it was much more serious than that. Thanks to your daughter.

Now, you took the entire winter break off, along with the majority of your coworkers, and spent every day with your daughter. You weren’t sure who found the prospect more exciting—you or her.

At only two years old, Leah was the one in charge of this particular trip; she led the charge through the diary aisle of the grocery store, hands on her hips as she carefully inspected the canned whipped cream. Her brown eyes squinted at the labels while Spencer hauled a gallon of milk on the bottom rack of the cart, and you checked it off of the list.

You watched her carefully, toeing the line of helicopter parenting with the way you kept her in your line of sight. If it were entirely up to you, she’d be sat in the cart, but she’d thrown a tantrum when you tried to sit her down upon your arrival at the store, and you were carefully choosing your battles this holiday season. “Do you think she needs glasses?” You said to your husband, watching as she moved in even closer to the glass doors.

Leaning over your shoulder to check the list, Spencer hummed before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “We can make her an appointment,” he offered. “It looks like she might just be too short to see the labels,” he frowned at the shopping list that you precariously balanced on the handle of the cart, “We passed the butter.”

You looked behind you to see the boxes of butter—already picked over by other holiday shoppers—at the beginning of the aisle, “Oh, would you...?” Your voice trailed off as Spencer had already begun backtracking to the butter, looking over the selection as if it was the biggest choice of his life.

“Mama,” a little voice called, Leah had made her way back around the cart, holding a red aluminum can in her little hand. The little glint in her eyes spoke for themselves, Can we get this?

Smiling down at her affectionately, you crouched down to grab the whipped cream from her hand, tiny fingers red from the cold metal. Whipped cream wasn’t on the list, but this was a battle you’d gladly give in to. Peeking over your shoulder for Spencer, you found him slightly retreated from the wall of butter, holding a box in his hand with his phone pressed to his ear, “Uh oh,” you murmured, bending down and picking Leah up so you wouldn’t have to worry about her wandering off.

The toddler followed your gaze, seeing her father on the phone, eyebrows pinched together. “Uh oh,” she echoed, resting her head on your shoulder. You checked the time on your watch, knowing good and well enough that it was nearing her naptime, but you’d wanted to do the holiday grocery shopping while the majority of the population was in the middle of the workday.

You so badly had hoped that Spencer would be home for Christmas this year, but the look on his face didn’t seem promising. He’d been called away on Christmas Day for Leah’s first Christmas, and last year he’d been in Kansas through the December holidays.

Hoisting Leah up on your hip, you guided the cart away from the milk and out of people’s way, waiting for Spencer to come back. “Gotta go?” You asked, wondering if you’d have time to at least check out with what you’d managed to grab.

Surprisingly, he shook his head, “That was JJ, she was asking if we had any plans for New Year’s.” He put the butter in the cart, crossing it off of the list for you, “They only had salted, I hope that’s okay.”

You nodded silently, watching him mindfully as you exited your mild panic and returned to the present, “That’s fine.” You let Leah back down, “Okay, lovey. Next aisle,” you steered the cart over to the baking aisle, where you were sure to make a dent in your list.

“Are you alright?” Spencer asked, grabbing a bag of flour from the bottom shelf and looking at you thoughtfully.

Apparently, you wore your concern more plainly than you had previously thought, “Yeah, I just hate spending Christmas alone now, it used to be the standard for me.” You rested your chin in your hands while Spencer went through the aisle, grabbing a few bits and pieces off of the shelves, “Oh, Spence!” You called out when Leah detached herself from her legs to chase after her father.

Her pigtails—courtesy of Spencer—bounced as she ran after him, erupting in a fit of giggles when he deftly scooped her up with one arm, giving her the vanilla extract to hold as she beamed up at him. “Okay, no more walking for you,” Spencer told Leah upon their return, looking through the crowded aisle as he passed you everything he’d taken off of the shelves. “On the bright side,” Spencer said, shrugging at you as he kissed your cheek, “You’ll never spend another Christmas alone.”

[sirxlla]

Whispering dirty Christmas lines in the Batboys ears 🎄

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

Dick: "Are you a candy cane? Because I’d like to lick you up and down." You said to him through comms.

"Y/N, you know everyone can hear you on comms." Dick stiffled a laugh.

"Oh, shit! Are you serious?" Embarressment and worry filling your voice.

"Nah, I'm just messing with ya. I switched our comms to private." Dick said with major confidence.

"Yeah, you must've not done it right Dumbass cause we can hear you loud and clear." Jason teases as he states through comms. Making your heart fall into your stomach.

Dick, in his embarressment stays silent the rest of patrol, you do as well. He thinks back to the comment in his heart swells proud of you for being confident enough to try to flirt with him considering usually you are fairly quiet and turned into a stuttering mess whenever he would flirt with you.

Jason: He was sitting on the couch reading a book just chilling. Something sweet about Jason is how the both of you needed space from each other on occasion but always came back to bother each other to tell each other about something that the other thought was interesting or random other things. You snuck up behind him even though he a thousand percent knew you were there before you got even close enough to whisper in his ear.

"Is your name Father Christmas? Because you look like a daddy to me." Giggling a bit as you spoke, your lips brushing against his earlobe.

"Babygirl, I'll be whoever you want as long as it makes you happy." He said with a charming smile; Something so lovely about Jason was how he could say just about anything and make it sound like smooth talking. He pulled you over the couch after setting down his book on the coffe table, sliding you into his lap facing him.

Bruce: You were in the cave filling in for Barbara as Oracle because she was feeling extremely sick this evening and Bruce wanted to give you a spin. Of course you have been flirting with him all evening.

"I need help spelling Elf. I have an E and an L. Can you give me an F?" You spouted the random Christmas pickup lines you read online cause this is exactly what Bruce intended the Batcomputer to be used for.

"I'm sorry, what?" He stopped in the middle of what he was doing on patrol.

"Seriously you just now noticed? I've been flirting with you all evening." There was a humor to your voice as you asked him in disbelief.

"Are you serious?" He asked with complete confusion and disbelief.

"Yes, I'm serious." An infectious laughs escaping your lips.

"Well at least youre having fun, Darling." He stated with a smile begging to reach his lips.

Tim: Everyone was sitting down for dinner as you passed him you whispered in his ear.

"Are you the Polar Express? Because I’d like to ride you." That's all it took for him to choke on his drink his face turning bright red. Of course you just returned your seat and acted like nothing had happened.

"What'd she say?" Dick teased Tim, noticing his younger brothers bright red face.

"I don't know but he is sure definitely gonna give Rudolph a run for his money." Jason teased as well.

"My face is not red, I don't know what you guys are talking about." Tim suttered as he lied through his teeth glancing at you. Obviously you had no choice but to look at him but you famed and innocent smile like you didn't just say that until his ear.

Damian: Considering how grumpy of a man he is you kind of knew what to expect when what you flirted with him in any sort of cringey cliche sort of way but that didn't stop you from trying and the joy you felt from his reaction so you walked into the training room.

"Do you believe in kissing someone under the mistletoe? Because mistletoe is what I named my sheets." You asked Damian with a shit eating grin.

"That's the best you could come up with?" He says with a bit of an annoyed tone as he approches you. There's a glint in your eye as you try to run off before you tackles you, a smile graces his thin lips, his smile sharp and cheeky.

"Oh no, I didn't say you could leave." he says in a rather happy tone, a tone he didn't let a lot of people see. He was very mushy on occasion and he could be extremely sweet.

Masterlist

[motthe]

Married+jayce viktor, visit relatives +she/her reader? Continuation please!! I gotta know more

i hope you enjoy the continuation!!!

warnings: more crazy family shenanigans

Dirty Santa had the family in an uproar when cousin Pat drew number one for the second year in a row. Seeing as your grandmother had made the pieces and walked around with the bowl, no one had any real proof Pat had cheated.

You were happy with your number. It wasn’t dead last like you’d hoped but close enough to see more gifts and get your pick of the litter.

Jayce was scrambling to understand the rules again with Viktor’s help, but even then you’d had to correct him on a few rules.

“Okay,” Jayce muttered, thick brows set in a determined line, “stolen twice and it’s frozen, no stealing back, number one gets to go again at the end and you’re stuck with whatever they trade you.”

“Perfect,” you said. “The rules change from family to family but that’s ours.”

Your more rowdy aunt who was a bit too serious when it came to any type of games shouted for Pat to get a move on. You sat back with your husbands, head cushioned by Jayce’s arm and one of Viktor’s hands in yours. You don’t know where your energy went after dinner, but you could fall asleep to your insane family after years of these events. Although loud and encompassing, it was home, and you were happy your loves were sharing in the madness.

“Who’s five?”

“That would be me,” sighed Viktor as he leaned forward. No one had a chance to offer him assistance as he snatched his cane and use the handle to snag a bag. Everyone whooped as it slid down the length and into his lap.

“Show off!” someone called.

Viktor merely smiled to himself, passing you tissue paper as he revealed a pack of pens, a book of crossword puzzles, and a few of those brain teasers you’d see in bookstores made of wooden figures or metal rings.

“That’s right on the nose for you,” you said, tossing the trash to your father who had the black bag by his chair.

“Yes, I’m quite happy with these,” he hummed, flipping through the crossword puzzles.

“I’m glad someone got them who will actually do them,” your mother sighed, clocking herself as the buyer. “They’re good for your brain!”

After a few more turns, Jayce browsed the lingering gifts on the table in the midst of everyone before eyeing the tool set in Uncle Jimmy’s arms.

“Now, son,” your family member began, mean mugging, “think about that decision.”

Jayce hummed, tapping his chin and staring at ceiling. He was so dramatic. God, you loved him.

Finally, he sighed and shook his head. “I’m thinking I need a new tool set.”

“Ooh, that’s cold,” Great Aunt Lynda cackled, sipping her wine. You could’ve sworn she mentioned a dry December when you all were fixing your plates. Apparently she’d had an incident at Thanksgiving, but you hadn’t been here. You all had gone to Jayce’s mother’s.

Now or made sense why your mother had made it clear that no was to bring beer into this house on the holidays—only wine.

Viktor was sipping some of his own as your number was called. Pulling yourself from his side, you looked over each gift that had already been opened. None of them appealed to you, so you went for the smallest gift bag.

Your husbands leaned in as you pulled out what was clearly a gift card, opening the little flap to see where you’d be buying from.

“How much we talking?” Aunt Pat asked.

“If it’s for fast food I’m taking it,” one of your younger cousins declared.

Viktor choked on a sip while Jayce shrugged, clearly confused as he read the brand. “I don’t dont know this store. Is it local?”

“Oh, it’s local all right,” Great Aunt Lynda said. Everyone snapped their heads to her when she spoke.

“It’s not fast food,” you announced, shoving the card back into the bag. “It’s for medicinal purposes, kiddos.”

“Ew! Medicine?” one of the twins whined, sticking out a tongue. “Who’d want that?”

“Ooh,” Jayce said, tapping away on his phone. “That makes a lot more sense.”

“Lynda there are kids playing!” Dad barked.

She waved a hand, draining her wine glass. “It’s a gift card. Be glad I didn’t bring a D-I-L-D-O—they were two for one!”

“A dodo?” one of the kids questioned.

Jayce lost it. You just shoved the gift bag behind your back and told them to move the game along.

In the end, you and your husbands got to keep your gifts. Aunt Lynda was all too happy to waddle over and talk about the best things to buy before you excused yourself for a bathroom break. Viktor was safe chatting away with Jimmy while Jayce was heading for another snack in the kitchen.

You had all of three, peaceful minutes in the bathroom before your phone lit up.

Groupchat: Jayce 💍 Viktor

Jayce: someone save me Lynda’s blocking the kitchen exit and there’s a mistletoe hanging above her!!

Viktor: That sounds like a trap.

Jayce: no shit!

Viktor: I meant for me. If I come to the rescue, I’m sacrificing my lips for yours.

Jayce: So you’re just going to leave me here?

Viktor thumbed up the question, hearing your laughter from down the hall.

You: Hold on my damsel in distress. I’m on the way.

Jayce: I’m glad to see SOMEONE loves me in this marriage

Washing your hands, you pocketed your phone and readied yourself for the last bit of the party which always ended in more christmas games or old home videos.

Only time would tell.

[infevious]

WISH YOU WERE SOBER

sum: confessing to him when you’re drunk

pairing: kinich x gn reader

contains: drunken confession, slight mention of his backstory

a/n: i was listening to “wish you were sober” by Conan Gray and thought of this, this is my first fic so uhhhh enjoy 😀😊⁉️ i have not written a fanfic since middle school and im high asf rn so it might be bad LOL might be ooc

———————————————————————————

This party's shit

Kinich sat around while everyone else was celebrating, he saw how you drank bottle after bottle. It hurt to see someone he cared about so deeply drink, it reminded him of his father, who he hated. But he couldn’t hate you, even if he tried.

wish we could dip, go anywhere but here

After a while you sat next to him, he didn’t want to come; he came for you. You excitedly asked if he was going to the celebration your tribe was having, he only agreed because he knew you would be there.

Don't take a hit, don't kiss my lips

You were awfully clingy when drunk, an equally drunk mualani had to pry you off her. You did the same to him; trying to hug him.

“I love you so much thank you for being my friend!” you cried

friend.

That’s all he was to you, just a friend.

And please don't drink more beer

He took the bottle away from you, he didn’t want you to be sick in the morning. He rolled his eyes as you reached for it, whining.

“Just a little bit~ Come on! It- it won’t hurt..!”

“You drank enough for tonight”

But this is definitely not my crowd

He didn’t really talk to anyone from your tribe besides you and (whoever else is in your tribe that has interacted with him), but he made an effort to come. He poured what was left of the liquor onto the floor and left the bottle on the crate he was sitting.

Take me where the music ain't too loud

Even though you were drunk you could tell he wasn’t comfortable.

“I want to take a walk”

“A walk? Right now? You’re not in a state to even speak properly, much less walk.”

“…Can you take me home?..I’m tired”

He watched as you said goodbye to your friends but couldn’t help but feel jealous. The way you hugged everyone so tightly, you never hugged him like that. When you would they would be quick, barely holding him, or maybe even just a side hug.

Trip down the road, walking you home

“Let’s go trouble magnet”

He put an arm around your waist holding you up so you wouldn’t fall, you could barely walk and he was annoyed, sad even.

“The stars are so pretty”

“It’s really hot..”

“Woah look at the moon!”

He was getting tired of your endless sentences. He couldn’t understand how you could be such a heavy drinker. Was it a coping skill? He went through a lot and never thought about picking up a bottle. Did you enjoy the feeling? He wouldn’t know, he always swore to never try it. He didn’t want to end up like him.

Pullin' me close, beg me, "Stay over"

“Can you spend the night? P-please?”

He looked down at your drunken state, eyes half lidded, cheeks red; you looked so beautiful. He was always confused on how you were never like his father when drunk, you were always smiling, laughing, dancing, the complete opposite of him.

But I'm over this roller-coaster

He listened to you talk about whatever popped up into your mind, he turned to look at you after you’ve been quiet for some time. You were just looking at him, his lips.

“This- this is a dream right..?”

He looked at you confused, dream? Where did that come from?

“Sure, yeah this is a dream”

He didn’t think anything of it, were you going to tell him an embarrassing memory? A secret no one else was supposed to know? Or- no. You would never..

He looked at you, the moon light making you look almost angelic. He noticed you looking at his lips and then his eyes.

“If this is a dream then i can…”

Time felt like it stopped.

Did you just- kiss him?

You pulled away, whispering an ‘I really like you’ before passing out almost immediately. He just sat there, a million thoughts rushing through his head. What the hell just happened? He looked down at you and noticed a small smile.

Real sweet, but I wish you were sober

[letstalkaboutshtufff]

A Love that Burns

Marcus Acacius x f!reader

A/n: You don’t understand the chokehold this man has on me ughhhhh. Anyway I hope you guys enjoy, I wrote this very fast!

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x wife character (I usually do x reader but I really like the name Aurelia so I used that!)

Warnings: fluff, angst, arranged marriage, Curse words, mention of fire, minor injuries, burns. A bit of suicidal ideation. Allusion to smut hehe. 18+ to be safe please. No minors!!

Summary: General Marcus Acacius’s new bride is troublesome, he doesn’t seem to mind though. After an incident occurs she pulls away from him and he can’t figure out why.

****************************************************

“He’s going to be furious…”

“Such a shame…do you think he’ll throw her out?”

“He might… we always knew she was trouble but this time she’s gone too far…”

“Poor dear, I doubt even her father will take her back…”

The roaring flames had long since died down, leaving now only crackling embers and dark clouds of smoke. How much time had passed you didn’t know. You hadn’t moved from the ground, knees planted on the hard stone, eyes glued to the scene before you.

What was once a grand structure, beautifully carved and molded for someone equally as impressive was now nothing more than a pile on the ground and it was completely your fault.

How had wanting to get a book out of your husband’s study and lighting a candle to see had gone so wrong?

You should’ve listened to your conscious, it told you that you shouldn’t go into your husbands private building but you knew he had an extensive selection and while you were newly married, barely even a few months he was your husband and you didn’t really think he would mind.

In the short time you were married the general had been accommodating and civil, more than civil actually, he had been doing his best to make you feel comfortable. That being said you did barely see him at times due to his duties and when you did it seemed all you did was cause him trouble.

Like that time you accidentally visited the animals one early morning when you were bored and didn’t shut the door behind you. Acacius had been abruptly woken up by the clucking of chickens ascending the staircase and running around the halls like it was a party. You had been redder than a pomegranate when you realized your mistake.

Or that time you lost your wedding necklace and spent hours wading in the lake where the laundry was washed thinking it fell there. You’d never forget the feeling when Acacius strode through the gates in tow with fellow commanders for a meeting but everyone froze seeing the comical sight of you, a highborn lady dress pulled up and soaking wet. That time made you want to drown yourself right then and there.

Oh and how could you forget the time you wanted to show your appreciation by baking his favorite dessert according to the maids and thought adding some cinnamon you’d bought in town was a good idea. Not even bothering to wonder why the kitchens didn’t have cinnamon in the first place… turns out the reason was a good one, the general had an allergy.

This time it was his face that was redder than yours… you didn’t face him for days after that..

There were so many moments like that but somehow each time he didn’t get angry like you expected. He didn’t yell or scold you.

When you bit your fingers nervously watching the servants try to catch the chickens he slowly walked out, surveyed the scene in what you could guess was mild disbelief and perhaps a bit of amusement, looked at you then turned back to go back to sleep.

When you were soaked in the lake he quickly regained the men’s attention, led them inside then a few minutes later reappeared with some haste. You didn’t get a chance to protest when he stepped in and pulled you out by your arm. Still he didn’t yell, he did start to scold a bit though because you were shivering, but when you suddenly yelped and squirmed reaching in your dress and pulled revealing a flopping fish with your necklace around it he lost all his words. You celebrated while he just started in disbelief.

And when you literally poisoned him you sobbed beside him as the healer frantically gave him several mixtures and an injection of some sort. You apologized over and over like a parrot. When he could finally breathe again, he closed his eyes exhausted but said, “Don’t cry, it tasted great..”

All those times he was so kind, unlike any other man you’d met before. To think you had been so afraid of the arranged marriage and now all you could think was how he deserved someone so much better.

He was older and saw you as a child you were sure of it. You wished you could act like the other wives, but you just couldn’t.

Your eyes glazed watched the flickers before you as if in a trance.

You’d burned his favorite place in the villa. A building constructed years ago that served as his study, his place of comfort, his safe space. He’d showed it to you when you first got married. You’d been amazed at how beautiful it was on the inside.

You could see on his face how this place made him relaxed compared to the rest of the villa.

And now it was gone..

The whispers of the servants were muffled around you but you caught them all the same.

You couldn’t find the strength to move, maybe you should have at least moved back, away from the falling ash and debris but you couldn’t.

You ruined everything, just like always…

There was some more muffling amongst the crackling, some sounds you didn’t register, couldn’t register… then a sharp yell. A tone you didn’t recognize.

“Why is she-!”

There was pressure on your shoulders but still you couldn’t look away.

All gone… all your fault…

You think you heard something loud but couldn’t understand it.

The pressure increased… so did the shouting but still you couldn’t look away.

It wasn’t until you saw the burnt pile get smaller that you realized you were being pulled- no carried away.

You felt so disoriented, everything in your vision jerking and you realized whoever was moving you was running.

The scene was still in view but further away, your eyes not daring to look away. You did however register that you abruptly stopped moving and were sat on something upright. The pressure returned to your head then arms then body.

Yelling, someone was yelling in your ear but it wasn’t until the pressure reached your face and you were forced to look away from the scene.

Eyes, wide and frantic, searched yours. Lips opened and shouted something you still could not understand. But the face you knew all too well. The one you wronged, the one you did a horrible misdeed to. Acacius.

You inhaled loudly, more of a gasp then coughed. Suddenly you felt everything crash into you at once, from when you were numb a moment ago now you burned in pain, lungs on fire, skin itchy and stinging, eyes feeling like the sun itself were upon them. You coughed and sputtered uncontrollably, breathing a foreign concept to you.

His strong hands at your back and arm. Almost cradling you was a strong contrast to his shouts that you could now hear louder than ever.

“Breathe, easy, easy- Dammit why did no one move her! Call the healer now!” He barked behind him.

Angry he was angry. Of course he was, even gentle and kind men like him had limits, limits that you’d crossed by battlefields.

Hot tears came, still you coughed, you wondered how long you could continue like that before losing consciousness, there were already spots in your vision. The sobbing now made it worse.

“Shh shh breathe it’s alright, just breathe for me wife, all is well, shh look I’m here, you’re safe” he pulled you into his lap holding you firmly in the hopes you’d calm down. He kept whispering to you, pleading and eventually the coughing stopped. You wondered how much more smoke it would’ve taken to kill you…

“That’s it, you’re safe, shh just breathe, I’m here” more tears emerged as you registered his words for the first time. How horrible you felt to have this angel of a man cradling you and comforting you when you just burned down his sanctuary.

It would have been easier on your heart had he yelled and thrown you aside.

“The healer is here!” Someone called out, your eyes were closed on his chest but you heard everything around you.

Swiftly you were lifted in his arms and carried to his chambers. The healer immediately got to work peeling back the fabric you only now noticed was dark as ash and singed in many places. Acacius stood behind her as close as he could without getting in her way. You watched as his eyes scanned your form, concern etched as he took in all the burns and scrapes. Your heart couldn’t handle it, he deserved a woman 100times better than you. You shut your eyes of the heartache ignoring the healer telling you to stay awake, moments later you were unconscious.

**************************************************

Stinging pain roused you, you wanted to cry out because your body was screaming at you. You were alone in the room, but by the moonlight shining through and how exausted you felt you didn’t think you had been unconscious long. Fresh tears escaped and you didn’t bother to wipe them.

You sat up in raw agony realizing just how many injures you sustained. Your skin was covered in loose bandages and shiny from salve. Sitting so close at the time you didn’t feel anything but clearly you were affected.

Shouting from below had your head whipping to the window.

With great effort and pain you stood on shaky legs and approached the opening peeking your head outside, you squinted and saw figured in the yard.

You choked out a sob when you realized what was happening. Acacius was yelling… yelling at the servants and guards for not moving you. Yes they put out most of the fire but didn’t bother with you. You hardly blamed them, you were a burden, an embarrassment of a lady to the great house hold. Perhaps they wanted you to die, actually it would have been easier if you did.

You couldn’t bare to listen to it anymore, guilt eating you alive. For some reason you had to see it again. To confirm what you had done…

You ignored all the pain and like a ghost descended the staircase.

When you reached the bottom you sucked in a breathe before walking forward where the smell of smoke was still heavy and thick.

And there it was, like a brand on your heart the scene of your crime. There were no more embers, just wood and ash. You walked closer until you stepped on something.

You moved your sandal revealing a silver medal covered in soot. You remembered how proudly it hung on one of the walls. And now it was beneath rubble and dirt.

Two hands found your mouth as you let out a cry.

“Heavens What have I done?” The strangled voice sounded stranger to you.

“What have I done, what have I done” you whispered achingly.

“Aurelia!”

You choked again hearing his voice, you couldn’t bring your self to look just yet.

“Aurelia what are you doing!? Why are you up!?” He rounded you hands finding your shoulders.

Acacius waited for your answer but you had none, only fresh tears. He barely hesitated before reaching down and scooping you up.

“I can walk-“ you tried to say but it was unintelligible through your tears, you didn’t want to burden this man ever again, not for anything.

He glanced at you for a moment but continued his quick pace to the bedroom. He laid you gently on the bed, his concern growing at the endless tears.

“Are you in pain? Let me call the healer back-“ he was already halfway out again.

“No-! no I’m fine I’m fine don’t call I’m fine!” You cried out but tried to collect yourself to not worry him more. The truth is your body was on fire but you would never burden this man again.

He hesitated but listened and approached you again, “Then what is it? Are you afraid? Everything’s alright now, your safe”.

You bit your lip to keep in the cry. How could he be so kind?

“Aurelia? Tell me please, what is it?” He kneeled beside you a helpless expression on his face.

“I-I I’m so- im so sorry, I’m sorry- I don’t know how- I was in there for a b-book and lit some candles I don’t even know how it h-happened I-I-“

Your breathing was becoming erratic again but once you started apologizing you couldn’t stop

“I’m so s-sorry Acacius I’m so sorry” you buried your face in your hands.

“Aurelia shh it’s alright, don’t cry, it’s nothing that can’t be replaced, don’t apologize, you need to breathe alright?”

You barely heard him, but you needed him to know how sorry you were, even if you didn’t deserve forgiveness.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sorry” you continued.

“Aurelia-“

“I’m s-sorry”

“Aurelia stop you’ll hurt yourself more!” He kneeled on the bed pulling you closer to him, worried that if you didn’t calm down you would go into another coughing fit.

“Shh it’s alright, I’m not angry, all that matters is you’re safe. Please calm down, can you breathe slowly for me? Look, follow my breathe…”

“That’s it, breathe in and out just like that, good girl…” he held you close and you felt your eyes begin to droop, exhaustion taking its toll. He sighed when your last words were a whispered apology.

***************************************************

The next day you were miserable, the burns although mostly shallow still caused great pain. Mentally you were a wreck, replaying the events over and over.

The healer told you you needed to rest for several days so that’s what Acacius made sure you did. He visited often but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak hardly a thing out of shame. Most times you just pretended you were asleep.

A week passed and you were allowed to get up as normal just to take it easy. Acacius had gone out for some business luckily because you didn’t think you had the strength to face him.

As you descended the stairs you tried to ignore the whispers of the servants. They all thought the same thing you were repeating in your mind.

Burden

Shameful

Useless

You sighed shakily nearing the now cleaned land where the structure once stood. His kindness made you feel horrible. You wish he would yell and scream at you, for you deserved all the bad words

You spent the day aimlessly wandering and thinking until you tired yourself out and retired to your chambers.

A jar of salve was left by your bed from the healer for the pain but you didn’t open it. You deserved every single sting and ache.

The next day you hardly felt like getting up so you didn’t. Food was brought, you didn’t bother eating it, instead you gave it to the birds outside the window.

In your solitude you came to a resolve. You would resist every urge, every inkling of your old reckless self. Acacius deserved someone who was 100 times the woman you were but since you were bound all you could do was at least not give him any more trouble. Another week passed, Acacius had been gone for some military business and it was easier that way.

It had been a whole nother week when Acacius finally arrived back to the villa. He dismounted his horse with a sigh. He did not want to be gone so long but he could hardly deny the emperors requests.

Tiredly he walked through the gates, scanning for signs of you. It was unusual to not see you flitting about.

A servant approached and helped him remove his cape.

“The Lady, how is she?”

The servant frowned a bit, “My Lady has been… resting these past weeks. We’ve not seen much of her.”

He frowned at that. Her wounds were not so terrible to have her bedridden so long. So what was wrong with his wife?

He nodded to the servant and made way directly to her chambers.

He knocked on the door listening for her voice.

“Come in” you called expecting a servant with food.

You were sat on the bench by the window staring out.

“My Lady..” he said almost hesitant.

Your head whipped to the side, eyes widened seeing your husband.

“A-Acacius… I didn’t know you were back…”

He walked inside and shut the door behind him.

“Are you well? The servants tell me you haven’t left the room much..” he stepped closer taking you in. Your sunken face, the way your eyes weren’t lit up with that sparkle he loved.

“I’m alright, thank you..” he frowned, not quite satisfied with the answer.

“Your wounds are healed?”

You nodded quickly.

He nodded then cleared his throat in the awkward silence that followed, “Then why haven’t you been out?”

You thought of what to say for a moment, “I… no reason, just resting I suppose”

Another answer that didn’t satisfy him but he decided not to pry. If you didn’t want to speak he wouldn’t make you uncomfortable.

“Well I’ll be in my chambers should you need anything…”

“Thank you..” and with that he left shutting the door behind him. You bit your lip forcing the tears not to come. How dare you cry when he’s the one who should be upset. Get it together.

Several more days pass and Acacius was growing frustrated. You barely left the room, choosing to take your meals inside even when he was home. He only caught glimpses of you here or there on the occasional walk around the garden but even that was becoming rare. Where was his wife who was always flitting around singing something off tune or getting into trouble. He recalled the time he awoke to clucking outside his door, and the time he found you skirts tied comically splashing in the lake, then of course when you so happily baked for him flour marks on your face. He smiled fondly at the memories, then frowned.

Why had you suddenly changed so much? Had he done something? He knew the fire shook you up but perhaps he said something unintentional? Did you overhear him yelling at the staff and resented him for it? He was going mad.

It took another few days before his patience finally ran out and he all but burst into your room.

“A-Acacius?! What-“ you startled dropping the book in your hands.

“Tell me what it is” he demanded a bit out of breathe.

“W-what?”

“Tell me what’s wrong or what I’ve done to upset you into seclusion”

“Acacius you’ve done nothing wrong I swear…”

“Then what is it? Why have you been avoiding me? What has upset you so much that you’ve locked yourself away?”

You didn’t expect this, so you really didn’t know what to say.

“I… I think it’s better this way…”

His eyebrows furrowed a bit trying to make sense of what you just said. “I don’t understand, what’s better?”

You fiddled with your hands and had a hard time making eye contact so you chose a lovely spot on the floor instead.

“It’s better that I don’t…. cause problems..” heavens was that a lot harder to say out loud than you thought.

This definitely took him aback.

“What?”

Oh no was he upset now? He surely looked it.. maybe you should have explained better.

“I-I mean… I’m always causing you trouble and getting into situations that I shouldn’t… I figured it would be better if I spent more time here….”

He was quiet for a while, his face undeniably confused and upset.

“And you decided this all on your own?” He said in a tone that you were a bit nervous about. Calm but hidden anger.

“I-I… yes..”

“So your plan is to live out the rest of your days between these four walls?” He couldn’t hold back a scoff. His annoyance seeping through his usually calm demeanor with you.

“….It’s better-”

He clicked his tongue in annoyance “Better? Better for who exactly?”

“Acacius all I do is cause you trouble! I’ve been embarrassing you since we wed, the entire household thinks I’m a burden and they’re right, I cannot-I will not burden you anymore especially after-…” you couldn’t bring yourself to mention the fire. With a shakey breath you gathered yourself and continued.

“I just don’t want to upset you anymore…” you confessed.

The silence was deafening, your heart squeezing so much you were afraid it was going to burst.

“You know out of everything that’s happened between us I think this is the only time I’ve been truly upset.”

You eyed him swallowing dryly taking in his clenched jaw and crossed arms.

“Acacius…”

“You don’t get to decide this all on your own, and you especially don’t get to decide how I feel.”

“…”

“Have I ever been cross with you? Made you feel as if you’ve shamed me?”

“Well no but-“

“Then why?” In two strides he was upon you looking down.

“Why did you suddenly decide that I would like it more if you hid yourself away?”

“Because if I’m here not causing you problems then wouldn’t it be easier for you…?” You wrung your hands together, anxiety heightening with every moment.

“Fuck that”

You jumped a bit startled that those words came out of his mouth.

“W-what?”

“Cause me problems”

“Acacius-“

“Break things, scream shout, bring the whole villa down if you wish it but you will not lock yourself up like a prisoner. You’re my wife, I’d like to actually have you around.”

“You… you’re just saying that because you’re too kind Acacius… but my heart can’t take it anymore. I did something so awful and I know you must be upset…”

“Is this about the fire then?”

“…”

“Things can be replaced, nothing that burned cannot be bought again or rebuilt.”

“B-but you loved that place. It was your sanctuary”

“I did love it, but it’s gone now and I hardly think about it, it’ll be rebuilt soon enough not that it really matters. What matters is that you’re safe and sound.”

“How can you be so kind? So patient so-so perfect” he scoffed at the last one in mild amusement.

“Acacius it’s true! I’ve never met someone so gentle and sweet”

“Gentle and sweet..I’ll be sure to add that to my title right after general or Rome”

“You joke but it’s the truth…” you look down at your sandals.

He sighed before lifting your chin up with his warm fingers then caressing your face, wiping away your tears with his thumb.

“Tell me something wife, have you seen me act that way with anyone else?”

“Well…” you thought about it. He was civil with everyone.. stern a lot, with servants and his men and well everyone else…

“And why do you think that is hm?”

“Well… I assume it’s because you see me more as a child…”

“A child.” He repeated.

You nodded.

“Aurelia you are never allowed to assume anything ever again”

“What?”

“You truly think that’s how I see you? That I treat you kindly because I pity you?”

“Well…then why?” You asked genuinely confused.

“Why treat my wife with care? Why worry for her? Why speak gentle words? Why shower her with gifts? Tell me Aurelia why does a man do those things for a woman?”

“I… I assumed-um well I believed that you were just..”

“Just what? Doing that out of duty? Is it so impossible to imagine that I love my wife and want her to be happy?”

“….” Your eyes widened larger than the sun. You hardly believed the words. So you asked him in a whisper.

“W-what did you s-say?”

Instead of answering he leaned forward closing the distance with a soft kiss.

“Does that answer your question?” He breathed in the few inches between your lips.

You shook your head no and leaned in. You felt the smirk against his lips. After several moments you pulled back to regard him.

“I never imagined you’d feel the same way…I still don’t think I believe it…”

“Like I said, you’re forbidden to assume things from now on wife”

“I… I’m sorry…” his hands settled at your waist, his smell flooding your senses.

“Make it up to me…”

You felt the heat rise in your cheeks but didn’t want to disappoint. You wrapped your arms around him pulling him into a deeper kiss full of emotion.

“Never allow such thoughts in your mind again, and you’re wrong, you’re not a burden. Yes I’ll admit you have a habit of getting into unique situations but I don’t mind, in fact I look forward to what surprises await me each day.”

“Do you really mean it? Even if I do awful things…? “

“Yes I mean it.. although I will draw the line at one thing, never do anything to put yourself in danger. When I saw you by the flames I-“ he paused sucking in a breathe.

And that moment you heart finally caught up with your head because no man could fake the emotions on his face like that.

You hugged him whispering an apology into his shoulder.

“You’ve apologized enough for a lifetime, come, dine with me, you’ve lost weight…” you nod letting him pull you by the hand out the door.

You heard some voices and frowned, anxiety creeping up again.

Ever the perfect man he caught on immediately.

“What is it?”

“The servants… it’s been hard to be around them… you might accept me for who I am but they haven’t…”

“I wouldn’t worry about it”

You cocked your head a bit at his amused tone, “why?”

“Because I fired them all”.

“Acacius!”

“Don’t protest, it’s done. I blame myself for not realizing what heartless people resided in my home. Besides I think you’ll like the new staff a lot better..”

You descended the staircase still confused why he seemed so smug until you heard voices you hadn’t heard in months.

“My Lady!”

“My Lady we’re here!”

“Oh how we’ve missed you!”

You couldn’t contain the loud gasp when your eyes landed on the familiar faces below. The staff that practically raised you was beaming up at you with joy.

“Oh my- Marika! Cicero! Diana! Felix! Ahh you’re all here!” You practically jumped from the staircase onto the group of your favorite people in the world.

Acacius couldn’t help but chuckle as the group enveloped you pulling you in, hugging and kissing you. Hardly the kind of servants he was used to but now he understood why you were so saddened to leave them behind. After your embraces you pulled back.

“What are you doing here? Is Father here?”

“You mean you don’t know?” The words would have worried you had everyone not been smiling ear to ear.

“Know what?” The general has employed us all here.

“W-what?!” You snapped your head to your grinning husband.

“B-but how did you- father must’ve been- h-how!?”

He laughed and descended the last couple steps, “I can be very persuasive if I need to be dear wife.”

“Oh- oh I don’t believe this!” you couldn’t contain your joy and parted from the group to jump on your husband who stumbled a bit but caught you of course. You kissed him then and there not caring who was watching- well in fact you didn’t care because everyone in the room were people you loved and felt safe with.

He was a bit surprised but when you pulled back his face was quickly morphed into fondness and satisfaction that the gleam in your eye was back.

“There she is..” you sighed happily hugging him once more then ran back to the awaiting group.

Well actually you made it halfway before pausing, turning around with an unsure look, and walking slowly back to him.

He tilted his head curious, “Acacius… will you… will you allow me to properly thank you… tonight? If that’s- if that’s something you’d like… or-“ your face that lovely shade of red he’d come to admire.

“Something I’d like?” He scoffed and for a moment you were afraid until you saw the expression in his eyes.

“Well I didn’t want to assume… you’ve forbidden it remember.” He smirked leaning down by your ear so only you could hear him.

“Listen well wife. This is the only exception you may always assume...” You shivered feeling his breathe caress your ear.

Gentle and sweet and now you had a new word to add, although you couldn’t quite find the right one just yet. But oh were you ever so eager to find out…

***************************************************

Is it getting hot in here guys?? No? Just me? Anywayyyy hope you enjoyed. I threw this up in one sitting so forgive all the mistakes. I finally saw the movie and wow, who knew they could fit so many hot men on one screen.

Also can anyone think of a better title lol😅

[fancyfeathers]

Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling Masterlist

I’m thinking about Daughter!Darling and Mother!Darling spending the holidays with the Batfam and sure it is quite a nice time of year because all of the parties mean they are out of the manor more, but it also means they spend more time with their family. Dick wants to take her out places, the park for snowball fights and sledding and maybe when she is little take her to go see Santa. Jason just wants to relax, maybe wrap his little sister up in a blanket and watch a Christmas movie or read her a book before bed. Tim takes her out shopping to get her to buy presents for everyone with his money and take her out to lunch after or something. Damian didn’t really grow up celebrating the holidays so he wants to join in on his sister’s and stepmother’s traditions like making Christmas candy, which he doesn’t understand why they would want to make it themselves since it is hot and it could burn them and it could be much higher quality when someone else makes it. Stephanie, Cassandra, and even Barbara take her out shopping for a Christmas dress since that was a tradition she had with her mother and Stephanie and Cass are like her sisters now. Even Kate comes by to take her favorite girls out, and they are over at her apartment, Daughter!Darling snuggled between her mother and Kate while watching a movie. When Duke comes along he takes her ice skating since no one else will since they are scared she will fall and break something, but he’s there to protect her.

Then Bruce takes her to holiday parties and galas with him, her all dressed up in the dress Stephanie probably picked out for her, her mother on Bruce’s arm and in a dress that probably costs as much as a house. When she is little she is fawned over by all the elites, telling Bruce and her mother that their little girl looks just like a doll. When she gets older the parties get a little more bearable, because of her boyfriend sneaking her off during the parties, sneaking off outside and giving her his coat and hiding from her father and siblings.

Then there are the gifts, it’s always things they want her to like, doesn’t matter is she does or not, a set of paints, signing her up for ballet classes, taking her to get her ears pierced, a book of French poetry, you get the idea. There are only three people who get her gifts that show they actually know her, her mother, Selina Kyle, and her boyfriend even as crazy as he actually is.

Her mother remembers her own family traditions from before she married Bruce, and one of them are handing down family heirlooms and that tradition becomes very important to her daughter just like it did with her mother. So every year her mom gives her something that has been passed down through her family, an old necklace, earrings, bracelets, books, you get the idea.

Selina Kyle becomes her mother’s best friend and kind of an aunt to her daughter so on Christmas Eve when she comes to see them she discretely hands her a little box with a silver heart locket inside, she remembered overhearing that she always wanted one but didn’t want to ask her mom because her mom would get it in the blink of an eye and she already gives her the world. Just don’t ask where she got it because she may have broken her clear streak to make her happy.

Then her boyfriend, as rich as he is he knows it’s the little things that matter. So instead of some grand gesture for a present, he pulls her aside at a party and gives her a book, a scrapbook he made of photos of them with little paragraphs, letters to her and what he feels. Sometimes something handmade can be worth more than any diamond necklace. He’ll save a ring for when they get engaged along and a court of owls mask is for when they get married.

[lyslsstuff]

carcar pregnancy announcement to the Sainz family | fluff | 914 words based on this reblog by @pitchcom :

edit : I made a monumental mistake, you will never know what it is now.

Carlos had always been a little apprehensive when it came to delivering important news to his family, particularly to his father. He loved his dad, of course, but their relationship hadn’t always been smooth sailing. The first few years of his career had been especially rocky—misunderstandings, miscommunications, and the pressure of expectations often left them at odds.

But things had changed. Slowly, they’d found common ground. Conversations became less tense, moments of laughter more frequent, and they learned to truly understand each other. Still, Carlos knew that his father had a way of delivering his thoughts bluntly, even when he meant well. It was a quality Carlos both admired and dreaded, especially now. Because this news? This wasn’t like anything they’d discussed before.

Carlos wasn’t sure how his father would react. Would he be happy? Confused? Angry? The possibilities weighed on him like a storm cloud.

But Oscar, his ever-reliable boyfriend, was there to weather the storm by his side.

The couple had flown to Madrid to celebrate Christmas with Carlos’s family. The festive air in the Sainz household was as warm and welcoming as ever. Senior and the rest of the family greeted them with open arms, all smiles and chatter. They were especially delighted to see Oscar again, though they couldn't resist teasing him mercilessly. His terrible Spanish accent, his quiet demeanor, even his choice of clothes—all were fair game for Carlos’s mother and sisters.

Carlos, of course, was ready to step in whenever Oscar needed him. A comforting hand on his shoulder, a sharp remark to deflect the teasing—it was clear to everyone how protective he was of his boyfriend. Oscar didn’t seem to mind the attention much, though, and often laughed along with the jokes.

But beneath the laughter and joy, Carlos’s mind was elsewhere. The news he needed to share loomed over him like a shadow. The words were trapped in his throat, refusing to come out. He felt a familiar wave of doubt. How could he even begin to tell them?

That evening, after everyone had gone to bed, Carlos sat curled up on the couch with Oscar. He leaned his head against Oscar’s shoulder, feeling the weight of his unspoken secret pressing down on him.

Oscar, ever perceptive, stroked Carlos’s back soothingly. “You’ve been quiet all day,” he murmured. “Thinking about how to tell them?”

Carlos nodded, biting his lip. “I just... I don’t know how to say it. What if they don’t take it well?”

Oscar kissed the top of his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “I’ve got an idea. Trust me, it’s brilliant.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow. “Brilliant, huh? What kind of brilliant?”

“You’ll see,” Oscar teased, grinning. “You’ll be impressed, I promise.”

Carlos chuckled softly, leaning in to kiss him. Whatever Oscar had planned, he trusted him completely.

Christmas dinner was a lively affair, as always. The Sainz family gathered around the table, enjoying Reyes’s impeccable cooking and the festive decorations that filled the room. The atmosphere was joyful, filled with laughter and the clinking of glasses.

Carlos tried to focus on the moment, but his nerves wouldn’t let him. The news he was carrying felt like a weight in his chest, growing heavier with every passing minute. Beside him, Oscar reached under the table and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. Carlos turned to him, startled, only to see Oscar wink before standing up from his seat.

The chatter at the table quieted as everyone turned to look at him. Oscar held a small box in his hands as he walked over to Senior, who eyed him with curiosity.

“Mister Sainz,” Oscar began. “I know it’s not Christmas just yet, but I wanted to give you an early gift.”

Senior raised an eyebrow, glancing at the small box Oscar extended toward him. “An early gift?” he repeated, clearly intrigued. “Well, let’s see what this is about.”

He carefully untied the ribbon and opened the box. Carlos’s heart was pounding so hard he was sure everyone could hear it. What had Oscar done? What was in that box? Please, he silently begged, let it not be something ridiculous—

Senior reached into the box and pulled out a pair of tiny, baby-sized socks. His expression shifted from confusion to surprise, his eyebrows knitting together as he stared at the miniature socks in his hand.

The room fell silent. Everyone was looking at Senior, then at Carlos and Oscar, waiting for an explanation. Carlos swallowed hard, feeling a mixture of fear and excitement.

“You’re—” Senior began, turning to Carlos, who was still seated, his cheeks flushed. “You’re really—?”

"I am," Carlos nodded, his voice slightly shaky. "You’re going to be a grandfather.”

The room erupted into chaos. Carlos’s mother let out a delighted squeal, rushing over to hug him. His sisters followed suit, bombarding him with questions and congratulations. Senior stood, pulling Carlos into a tight embrace.

“This,” he said, holding Carlos close, “is the best Christmas gift I’ve ever received.”

Carlos felt a wave of relief wash over him. The fear, the doubt, all of it melted away as he was surrounded by the love and joy of his family. He glanced at Oscar, who was watching the scene unfold with a fond smile.

Carlos reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly. He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve Oscar—or the happiness they were about to share—but he was endlessly grateful.

[zephyr-ro-emenki]

I did a little looking into parental genetics, and guess what?

A set of parents with Black hair and Blue eyes, and Red hair and Green eyes, CAN HAVE A BROWN HAIRED AND BROWN EYED CHILD!!!

You heard me right.

Dick and Babs or Dick and Kor'i can both be canonical pairings for Peter's Parents in the DC universe.

I personally like Dick and Kor'i for Peter's parents better, not for a lack of a love for Babs, Babs and Dick are my favorite DC Pairing. But more for the fact that Mary and Kor'i sound similar enough phonetically that anyone slipping up and accidentally calling her Kor'i in her civilian identity could easily pass it off as just slurring the name Mary a bit. And the fact that Richard and Mary Parker both worked for S.H.I.E.L.D. in the Comics, and their Plane crash death always sounding like a Government made cover story for an agent dying on a secret mission, well...

Richard Parker and Mary Parker were Government funded Heroes in the Marvel Universe, under the codenames of Nightwing and Starfire, and were killed on a mission, orphaning their son Peter with his Aunt and Uncle, May Parker, and Jason "Ben" Parker. For MCU Continuity, they could have been members of the First Avengers Initiative Team, one that existed in the early 90's, who was shut down in the late 90's after members of the team died in a tragic mission, and that would be why the Initiative was Shut down before The start of the MCU with Nick Fury trying to revive it. And that's why Nick (and Talos) knew who Peter Parker was and trusted him with Mysterio First. Not just because he's Spider-Man or was in the Area, but because Both of his parents were founders of the FIRST Avengers team.

That's my personal Headcanon at least.

But I also love Babs being being Mary, because that totally recontextualizes all of the starts to Peter in Gotham Fics as a Mother seeing her Teenage Son (who looks so much like his father it hurts, with the Lazarus Pit-ification of his eyes to green really showing how much his eyes are shaped after his mother's) for the first time, usually looking Homeless, injured, starving, and traumatized, all wrapped up in whatever random clothes he could snatch up from his surroundings to pass off as normal looking. And she just has to have a silent crying breakdown as she knows that's her son, even if she hadn't birthed him yet (or maybe she thinks the memory of her being pregnant was erased from her memory? She doesn't know what to think anymore!) but a mother can always recognize her baby. And he just looks so Hurt and all she can do is cry and try to get concrete proof that he's her son in the short time he's in her library, while ALSO calling over Dick to ask if he knew they had a kid together.

I think I just made myself cry, brb...

[coichii]

LIGHTS ON ✭

—(🎧)—> the first flight went smooth, landing swiftly in Melbourne on a layover to Sydney to visit your wonderful long distance boyfriend. when the cold, wintery weather freezes up, turns out it’ll be a while before you see him again.

pairing - longdistance!bf!felix x fem!reader

genre - fluff & comfort (what a shocker)

word count - 1.8k (yk how I said it was gonna be rlly short..nvm! I was thinking like..barely 1k☠️)

warnings - cursing & that’s it!

series note : hello !! welcome to part six of my winter series, “winter records of love” where there will be 8 individual short stories for each member :) these stories are based off of songs I deem “winter” feeling ! this story is based off of “lights on” by Tyler, the creator. enjoy <3

Seeing your long distance boyfriend after what felt like years despite it only being months was blissful.

You always missed him. Missed his warm smile, adorable freckles, kind & loving words, and everything more. Missing him was all you did at this point.

So when you got a text from your boyfriend last month saying he’ll pay for your ticket to come visit him and his family, you couldn’t have been more happy. Ecstatic even.

You’re not surprised when you find yourself smiling at nothing on the flight to Melbourne, looking out the window at the beautiful, vast ocean of waves.

The excitement bubbled in your stomach. It’s always so nice to visit him and his family. His mother is always so caring, his father is funny and kind, and his sisters are entertaining and hilarious.

You loved seeing him most of all though. His warm kisses that you missed resonated on your cheek as you thought about him, warmth rising on rosy red cheeks.

You always visited him around this time, when the rain froze into snow. You remembered how he would always wrap his warm scarf around your neck, pulling you into his warm side.

“Plane is now descending into Melbourne. Please at this time, fasten your seatbelts and put up your food trays.” A voice over the intercom sounded, filling your heart with even more excitement.

It would be only a matter of time before you see him again.

◂—♥︎—▸

“What! What do you mean our flight is delayed!” A voice, angry bellowed from beside you. Delayed? What do you mean the flights delayed?

“Sir, calm down. As soon as the blizzard passes, we will board and take off for Sydney.” An attendee ushered, going back to talk with other worried staff.

Now that you think about it, you haven’t picked up your head from your phone much since you arrived, nor have you taken in your surroundings really.

You spare a glance to the side with a huge window and your eyes widen in shock.

The sky, runway, honestly everything, is completely white. All you see is snow absolutely overrunning the airport.

Yeah, there’s no flying in this.

Beep beep! Your phone sounds as you process everything. Looking down at it, you see an incoming call from felix and pick it up.

“Hey baby! How’s everything going!” You hear his voice on the other end of the phone. “You’re about to start boarding, right?”

“Ha.” You dryly chuckle. “It just got delayed. There’s a horrible blizzard...” You explain, voice trickling off at the end.

You play with your hands nervously as the people besides you get nervous, calling their families and telling them they won’t be able to make it intime for Christmas.

It’s hard to not let it get to you, causing you your own form of anxiety. If you can’t see him this holiday, you’re not sure what you’re going to do.

“Oh, that sucks, baby. I hope it clears up soon.” He pouts. You can’t see it of course, but you can hear it in his voice.

“Yeah I know. Sorry about it though.” You mumble, guilt sinking in. It’s been forever since you’ve seen him and he’s the one who payed for your ticket. This is the worst case scenario at this point.

“Hey, no no. Don’t apologize for something that isn’t your fault.” His voice was soft and reassuring, comforting you from your mind, which was slowly drowning you in guilt.

“Okay, ba-“ you were cut off by the sound of a speaker. You look around to find an atendee standing with a mic in her hand, an uneasy look on her face.

“Unfortunately, it is loooking like this plane won’t be taking off until tomorrow.” A collective groaning was heard. “Please come check in and we will offer our complimentary rooms to stay in.”

You were in complete shock, and so was everyone else. Until tomorrow? Could the weather actually be that bad?

“Hey, love? What’s going on?” He asked, weirded out by the sudden cut off of your voice. “Everything okay?”

“Uhm, no.” You replied, voice quivering slightly. “We have to stay overnight, I’m going to be so late.”

He notices the shiver in your voice, heart breaking at the sound of a slight sniffle. He knows you hate disappointing him, and he wants you to know that you’re not.

“Hey, angel. Don’t you worry about it, it can’t be helped. We’ll still be waiting for you, okay?” His warm voice felt like a comforting blanket being placed over your shoulders, comforting you in a secure and safe hold.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll call you tomorrow, baby. I’m sorry, I love you.” You respond as your cheeks turn red. You try to convince yourself it’s the bitter cold rushing in from the outside, but you know better.

“Don’t apologize, y/n. I love you too, good night, sweet girl.”

You hang up and make your way to your room, slamming your luggage that you had received onto the wall before plopping down on the bed.

Man, you can’t wait until this plane can take off.

◂—♥︎—▸

Turns out, you’re going to have to suck up those wishes.

You woke up this morning to absolute pandemonium. Angry people shouting at any staff member they saw, spewing their anger for something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“How are we supposed to go home if the flight is cancelled?” A young woman’s voice screamed, and your heart dropped to your stomach.

Cancelled?? Wait wait wait… that can’t be?

“We apologize for the inconvenience.” A robotic voice started over the speakers. “All flights departing have been cancelled until further notice. Please prepare to leave within the next twelve hours.”

You can’t believe it. You need to leave within twelve hours. Not only are you not going to be able to visit, but your stranded in a foreign country for who knows long just because of some stupid snow.

You can feel the tears swelling up in your eyes, them beginning to slowly tip over your bottom eyelid.

You go to the only sense of comfort you have left; Felix.

“Hey, baby!” He chirps, the phone only having to ring twice. “On your way?”

“I wish I could say that.” You dryly chuckle, and he can immediately tell that it holds no humor behind it.

“Baby? What wrong, is everything okay?” He asked, voice soft and comforting.

“It’s cancelled. I don’t know what to do or where to go, Lix.” You voice cracked, tears rolling down harder as your breathing unevened.

“Hey, listen. Everything is going to be okay. You can get a hotel and get the closest flight out of there, but don’t cry please. It’s all going to be okay.” He tried to comfort, but it mostly ricocheted off of you and fell on deaf ears.

“I’ll try the hotel, but the first flight to Melbourne is sold out, I heard about it before I called you. I’m stuck here.” Your voice trembles, the feeling of hopelessness creeping its way up your spine.

It feels like being in a forest at dark, owning a compass but it not spinning around the way it does. It feels like nothing is going to save you.

“My love, I need you to listen to me.”

Your ears lock on to his voice, paying the upmost attention to the soft yet firm tone of his words.

“Everything is going to be okay. You’re going to get yourself a hotel, and I’m going to figure something out for you soon, okay? You’ll be fine, I promise you.”

You can feel his words warming up your stomach like a pot of hot soup; comforting and home like.

And that’s what he always felt like to you.

◂—♥︎—▸

Knock knock knock! The loud sound echos off the hollow wooden door of the room.

You had booked a room at a nearby hotel, noticing multiple familiar faces from the airport staying there as well. It was a little tricky, but you eventually got settled at a room on the 3rd floor and hoisted all your luggage up there.

You must have fallen asleep there, because the time all of a sudden jumped from 11am to 5pm from when you had layed your head down.

Cautious, you make your way to the door, not forgetting to peer through the peephole first.

And then, you saw him.

“Felix!! Is that really fucking you?!” You shouted, heart blasting with joy and love after you opened the door. You practically shoved your body into him, laughing at a slight ‘oof’ sound he made when he hit the back wall.

“Yes it’s me, darling.” He coos at your incoming tears before quickly moving to wipe them away.

“H-how’d you come here so fast?” You whimpered, checking and touching his face as if to check if he was real and not a made up figment of imagination.

“I came just as soon as you hung up, i told you I’d figure something out, didn’t I?” He explained. You observed the love sick look in his eyes, wondering how somebody could be such an angel.

Wondering how you got so lucky with him.

“I’m so happy baby, I seriously love you so fucking much.” You said, finally letting go of him and ushering him into your cramped room.

“I love you too, princess. It was no problem.”

“No problem? The drive is eight hours!” You chucked, cuddling into him from where he had taken a seat on the small couch.

“Well, yeah. But it’s worth it for you.” He whispered, stating this as if was just some small thing he had did hold the door open for you.

But it was so much more. No one had ever shown you that they cared for you like this.

Ever.

“Let’s take a rest here for the night then we can go back to Sydney, yeah.” He suggested, and you jumped.

“Wait wait, you’re still taking me to Sydney? You don’t think that’s too much for you, babe?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing in slight concern.

“No, silly. You came here to see me and my family and that’s what you will do.” He giggled, pressing kisses over your cheeks and smiling at your reddening face.

All you could do was look at him, the most fond, loving look in your eyes.

Wow, this is definitely the man you’re going to marry.

[tori111777]

FRIGHT AND FURY 8

Part 8, Part 9

Summary: A dagger lays before you (ifykyk)

Warnings: Blood, Violence, Spoilers, all that

Parings: Caracalla x wife!reader

“You did this!” You ran right up to the Emperor Geta and yelled in his face. It was a bold move of you considering the circumstances of the moment.

It was far past when the sun had set over Rome and the mob outside of the palace was growing more anxious every second as their beloved hero, the general was killed.

Around him, the guards stiffened, hands tightening around their weapons, but Geta made no move to signal them. He merely regarded you with a detached amusement, as if your fury was an amusing distraction from the chaos outside.

“There was nothing else to do. He and his bitch were plotting to kill us. If I’d let him live-“ He was cut off by his brother. “Don’t you hear them? They’re calling for our heads!”

Macrinus tried to poor some wine and offered it to Geta. But you weren’t having any of it tonight. “Go.” You snapped at him as, feeling like your father in that moment, he nodded and left. “Who brought this on us? Who?!” Your husband was begging for answers that you knew he had the answer to.

“Calm yourself, brother. The Praetorians will put down this crowd like they have every other-“ No one was able to get their words in this conversation as Dondus started to squeal restlessly on Caracallas shoulder. “Keep the ape still!” Geta yelled, angrier than ever.

Caracalla flinched, “Beware how you speak of Dondus!” The two brothers were arguing once more, it was nothing new and you have seen it a million times before. It also wasn’t helping that your husband sickness was getting worse. “Come.” You grabbed his hand and let him get up from the couch. “Let your brother calm down.”

You led your husband away from the tense confrontation, your grip firm on his hand as you guided him to a quieter corner of the room. His face was flushed with anger and exhaustion, the sickness that had plagued him worsening with each passing day. "I understand your anger, but fighting with Geta... it only makes things worse."

Caracalla’s eyes flickered with a mixture of fury and helplessness. "You think I don’t know that?" His voice was hoarse. "But he’s always undermining me. You saw how he spoke to me just now. He thinks I'm weak. The people think I’m weak. And the Praetorians—"

"They are loyal to the throne, not to just your brother," you interrupted gently, cutting off the spiral of doubt before it could take hold. "People have always seen Geta as the better brother," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper now. "The people love him. They always have."

“You are the emperor.” You reminded him.

Dondus was restless on his shoulder. “Nothing was ever mine. Everything was ‘ours’ always. Even in the womb, he gripped the umbilicus in his tiny fist to try to deprive me of air.” He spoke. You gave him a confused look, “and you remembered that?”

“Certainly, one cannot forget.” He said. The childhood rivalry that had shaped their relationship was no secret to you, but hearing it from Caracalla’s lips… “Do you think he still wants to take everything from you?” you asked softly, your thumb gently tracing the back of his hand, as if to anchor him to the present.

“He already has.” Caracalla replied. The bitterness in Caracalla’s voice hung heavy in the air, a silent accusation that was both painful and true. You knew the weight of his words, the torment that had been building up in him for years.

You felt the heat of his anger radiating off him, but also the helplessness that always followed such intensity. It’s almost as his feelings transferred to you. Angry and helplessness. “Caracalla,” you murmured softly, your thumb still tracing the back of his hand in an attempt to soothe him, "you are the emperor. You are the one who holds Rome’s future in your hands. Geta cannot take that from you."

“We had a future but you had to ruin it!” You can always see when the sickness increases within his mind. His eyes started to get somewhat cloudy and you tried your best to not take it to heart but you did, you always did. Dondus had now leaped away from his shoulder and onto the table carefully, avoiding the vases and dagger to pick at more nuts.

You move your hand from his and held his face. “We can always try again.” You tried the best you could to keep it together. He leaned into your hands, seeking something that felt like comfort amidst the chaos in his mind. "I’m not like Geta," he muttered after a long pause, a deep sadness creeping into his voice. "He’s... he’s everything the people want. Everything I’m not."

You shook your head slowly, your fingers brushing through his hair as you gently coaxed him to face you again. Your eyes shifted over to the table Dondus was at now that she started to make a fuss, she could also sense the shift in the air. You felt the cold wind on your hands as Caracalla pulled away and picked up the monkey.

“I never asked for this,” he whispered, almost to himself, but you heard it nonetheless. The vulnerability in his voice struck a chord within you. Together, you stood in the silence, the room filled with nothing but the sound of Dondus softly chattering, and the quiet assurance that, for the moment, the storm inside Caracalla had calmed, even if just a little.

He left without saying a word, leaving you standing there alone in the night. Your eyes lingered on his figured until he was out of sight. The noise from the mob outside, eventually stopped and everything was so very still.

You started to think and wrapped your arms around yourself, suddenly feeling a chill. Thinking of your wedding day, a couple months ago, even Lucilla’s words, and Geta.

He always seemed to be the problem. Every time you had to deal with Caracalla’s sickness the main point was always Geta. Your eyes flickered to the dagger on the table.

You looked back at the floor,

and back to the table.

“Is this dagger which I see before me…” You mumbled to yourself and trailed off into your thoughts. The dagger on the table gleamed in the dim light. It seemed to glow with the light of Rome itself. The Roman dream.

You walked slowly, your heart beating a little faster as your hand hovered over it.

Pulling back as you heard a bell go off, back to reality. Looking around the room, you were the only one there. Slowly looking back to the dagger as you turned your head. “Will this bring me to Olympus itself?”

Quick to grab the glistening metal. “Or Tartarus?” Whispering in the moonlight.

You moved back hastily ingot the other room before, where you saw Geta staring out the window behind the curtains. Geta turned at the sound of your footsteps, his gaze flicking quickly from the window to you. You had the dagger close to your side but it was dark enough and you knew he could not see it.

Geta’s eyes were fixed on you, but his expression was unreadable—cold, calculating, as always. “Is something wrong?” he asked, his voice smooth but laced with suspicion. He knew you far too well, even in the dim light, and there was no hiding your unease. He could sense it.

Nor did you think about what would happen next. Within a second your hand was about to come down on his face when Geta caught your hand. “You’ve gone too far!” He cried out. "How many times do I have to watch him suffer... while you sit back and wait for him to fail?" Not caring for what he was saying.

“Are you mad?” Geta’s eyes were wide with fear. Nothing could touch you in this moment though. “You’ve both been lost for so long. Can’t you see that? You are just like him and you hate it! Cursed twins flames. You are the wander of this place!”

You acted on the force and drove the dagger up instead of down, it cut him right over his face and he clutched his face. His words were laced with both fury and desperation. “You bitch!” He yelled and stumbled back. He was bleeding all over, going down his clothes and onto the floor. The room seemed to freeze around you, your breath quick and shallow, heart pounding in your chest.

You didn’t think twice and bent down to plunged the knife into his throat, his blood spraying all over you. The anger that had built up in you over the weeks, the months of watching this family torn apart by rivalry, by sickness, by betrayal, it drowned out everything else.

You had always known it would come to this and then it was done.

You sat there for a second. You thought you might start crying or feel some remorse but yet you didn’t. The cold marble floor felt warm as the blood soaked around you as well.

Standing up and looking at the mess you made. You blinked and turned away. For it did not bother to care you, after all you are just like your father.

You stepped away from Geta’s body, moving past the bloodstained floor and into the adjoining room. The cold air that greeted you was a stark contrast to the heat that still simmered beneath your skin. You closed the door behind you, the soft click of the lock the only sound breaking the stillness.

You thought for a minute to go to Lucilla’s room like how you always did. But you couldn’t do that now, could you? She is not your friend and certainly not your mother. Instead you headed to bed like a lost wander in the night.

Not even the god and goddess of Mars and Venus, intertwined could save you now.

[erenjaegerwifee]

The Selection 

Chapter 1 

Paring: Neteyam x Fem!Tawakmi!Reader

Warnings: nothing really, just flirting, some eye contact

Word Count: 4.6k

Disclaimer: All my characters are aged up! If that bothers you, feel free the scroll and do not interact with my account or any of my post!

Index: hì’i ‘aw - little one, kelku – house, Ma ite – my daughter, sa’nu – mommy, sa’nok - mother

~ Hi everyone I know I disappeared on you guys for a sec I’m back! Please give me some feedback this is my first series and I’d love all of your input! Feel free to comment or private message me any suggestions you might have for the series or what direction you all would be interested in reading about it going! That you so much for your support and patience!

Series M.List | Main M.List

To say you were nervous would be an understatement, you were terrified, of leaving you parents, your siblings, it was all irritating terrifying. You were upon Omatikaya territory, their forest was so different from yours, but you could not see it up close. you sat on your mother’s ikran, and you father’s held all of your stuff. You can’t imagine not going home to see them every day, but you could not change your mind now, it was well passed the time for that.

you felt a bit sticky from the travels the air felt different, smelt different, you watched the beauty of your forest change to a completely different kind of beauty in a different part of the forest. You can begin to imagine what this competition must be like; would you have to fight? You hoped not, it was not something you were fond of. Not because you didn’t like to but back in your clan people learned not to pick fights with you due to your habit of raging out.

The goodbye to your brothers were sorrowful, you missed them already and it hasn't even been a week, you do not know how you are going to go 6 months without your family. Thank Eywa for your iPad. You hold on to your mother as she descends her ikran, and your father follows. They both hope off and you follow. You see the clan is bustling in the sunny day but you are not quite there. Your mother had sent down a few minutes' walk from the clan with the other woman and their families who are in the competition.

Almost immediately the awes start when the girls see you, but you pay no mind to it, in this moment you want to be with your family, you want to be present. You can hear the music from the clan playing and it was slightly distracting. Your father pulled the three heavy trunks full of your stuff off his ikran before coming to join you and your mother.

Your thoughts are quickly broken by the voice of a man in front of all of you. The girls form a semi-circle with their families around no other than Toruk Makto. “Oel Ngati Kameie, I welcome you all to the Omatikaya Clan.” you all make the respectful ‘I see you’ gesture to him and he continues to talk, “This is the first time our clan will hold these games, but I assure you, they are all safe. I must put your minds and the minds of your children at ease, so without further ado, meet my son Neteyam Te Suli Tsyeyk’itan.” Neteyam steps up next to his father, you didn’t realize before, but he was always standing there. Along with his brother Lo’ak and Korra, two other girls who looked younger and who you assume was his mother.

Neteyam was handsome, he was tall and built like a true warrior. His gaze was hardened as it passed around to the women standing before it, you almost made an effort to fix your hair, but you didn’t want to look desperate, he was not the only one who had people falling to their feet. But you could not deny how incredible he looked, like Eywa herself crafted him, which is something many say about you.

Your eyes dart to Lo’ak and Korra and she gave you a quick wave and a smile and you retuned it with a small smile. Your mother’s arms were wrapped around your shoulders and your father stood beside her, slightly behind you. She tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear and raised your head then he saw you. Neteyam knew that Lo’ak and Korra where excited to see you but he couldn’t believe you were actually standing there.

Neteyam never thought you would agree to compete for the hand of some random stranger when you could have anyone at your side his brain was lagging. His eyes almost popped out of his head when he laid eyes on your beauty. The other women watched Neteyam like a hawk, they saw the way he looked at you and instantly they had an issue, they felt you had an unfair advantage. But one of the greatest things about your demeanor is you never really cared what other people thought of you.

You sigh your eyes tracing the branches above, you knew this part would be weird, the part where he looked at all of you, you felt insecure to say the least, being silently compared to other girls, you couldn’t imagine how they must feel being compared to you.

“This is the man you all will but entering the games for, and I can assure you all, the Omatikayan people will keep you safe in your stay. Now come, any questions can be answered let us give you all a tour of where you girls will be staying.”

You sighed and turned to your mom, “When are you leaving?”

“After the introduction ma ite, do not fret” she tucked some of your curls behind your ear and turned you around to follow the girls, “We will be here when you get back” you walk behind the other girls slowly talking in the scenery around you, when you make it to Korra and Lo’ak you slowed down, “Are you coming?” you asked her softly and she nodded gesturing you to walk.

She was quick to keep pace with you, “How do you feel?” she asked softly as you made your way to the village entrance. “I am not sure, nervous, I feel a bit distant from this whole thing, I do not think it really hit me, yet I will be far away from home alone for the first time” you giggle softly. “You are not alone, you have us. I can introduce you to my friends if you would like?” you nodded smiling at her kindness. You made it to the village and your steps falter.

You admired the trimmings on every branch, the attention to detail in the clan was breathtaking, the kelkus were so well constructed they looked incredibly sturdy and big compared to the ones back in your home clan. You found yourself spinning trying to take in everything, your attention span was not helping you. You moved to walk forward, and a little girl ran right in front of you catching your eye, you looked back and saw the group of girls just as captivated as you by the surrounding. You turned back to the young girl and saw she had fallen. You gasp softly but rushing to her side.

She couldn't have been more than 5 years old. You dropped down to her level and picked her up to stand, you dusted off her knees, “Are you alright hì’i ‘aw?” she sniffled softly as she held onto your shoulder to balance herself and nodded, “Where is your sa’nok?” you ask her softly and she looked around and didn’t see her, “I was following her and I fell now I lost her” her tears her about to burst this poor little thing. “Do not cry how about we go find her? Do you remember where she was going?” the little girl just shook her head.

You brushed her hair behind her ear and wiped her tears still holding her hand you stand up and look around for someone to help you. You had long forgotten the group of girls moving on to the next part of the clan and you feel a tap on your shoulder. When you turn you come face to face with a chest. You look up and find the man standing in front of you is no other than Neteyam, “Is something wrong? I noticed you were not with the group” his voice was smooth, it was embarrassing how easily hearing him speak made you weak, his voice and his face matched perfectly.

“Yea, this little girl fell and lose her mother, and I offer to help her without knowing where to go?” you smile awkwardly. Neteyam darted his eyes down to the small girl and back up to you, “Her mother is a harvester, she must be in the garden area, I can show you if you’d like so we can take her back to her mother.”

“What about the tour?” you ask him softly, “You will be here for the next month at least, maybe more, you will learn your way around, you can always ask.” you smile softly at his reassuring words and told him to lead the way. You speak to the little girl as you walked and Neteyam was on the other side of her, you learned her name was Saki and she was only 5 years old. You couldn't help but glance at Neteyam every now and them, when he would help Saki over a log then hold his hand out to help you. When he would hold down the bigger leaves so you can walk through easily, everything about it, about him felt, so calming and strong.

It made you wonder why he hasn’t chosen a mate before now; you figured the war had something to do with it, but you didn’t know if it was the whole reason. The little girl ran up to her mother who processed to thank you both. You smiled and greeted her respectful telling her it was no problem.

Your turned to walk back now alone with him. You felt a bit awkward being alone with him, you weren’t sure what to say, thankfully he broke the silence, “So, I have heard your music, you are incredible talented, I'm tempted to ask why you agreed to be a part of something you might not be chosen for, you could have anyone you wanted” his voice was soft as he spoke to you, with such gentle intend as if his words would offend you.

“I could say the same about you having anyone you want, I am here because you brother and his wife, your sister asked me very kindly to be here, they made it sound like you were worth my time” he chuckled at your statement which made you smile, your knees almost buckled. “I am afraid I may not live up to the expectation” he said softly.

“We will just have to find out Neteyam, it was a pleasure to meet you and thank you for helping me with that young girl. I just could not leave her alone” you say softly while you smile, “It was my pleasure I’m glad you agreed to the games, I did not believe my brother at first when he told me he had asked you and you agreed, I look forward to getting to know you” Neteyam softly picked up your hand and kissed it looking you in the eye.

Lucky for you, you mastered the art of having good composure and you smile sweetly down at him even though you could hear you heart in your ears, “I look forward to getting to know you too Neteyam” you say softly. He led you back to the group where they were being given the tour of where we would all be staying.

The Sully’s had their own grand hut. It was high up in one of the bigger trees in one of the kelku areas. Other huts sat on lower parts of other trees, but they all hung beautifully, some even sat on the floor below other kelkus. You admired the intricate carvings that each hut had; the very well stable structures you wondered how they even got them so high up in the trees. On top of that, there was not a ladder in sight, only ropes that hung down and branched that situated at stairs.

I craned my neck looking up at the sully kelku. When Jake grabbed our attention, “Ok ladies, given that this is a strange place for you all and to ensure your safety personally, you will all be staying on the upper level of our kelku. The stairs you see connecting the lower level to the higher will be your way up and down. Currently, it is generally one big room, so each of you will have a corner in the room with a bed and space for your things, the bathroom and kitchen area are on the lower level and communal dinners are held once a week, you all must attend unless you have a legitimate reason.” he concluded.

You sighed softly as you dropped my head, you have to live in the same room as the girls you are competing against, that sounds like a great idea. As if the other girls had the same thought process you heard them sigh as well with small groans which made you cover your mouth and smile.

Jake ended up showing you all where the healer’s tent was and introducing you all to Tsahìk Mo’at, Neteyam’s grandmother. He also introduced you to his wife, Neytiri, she was a beautiful warrior, walked with poise and power. Her aura was one of fierce fearlessness and elegant beauty. Then lastly, Neteyam’s younger sisters were introduced, their third born Kiri and their youngest Tuktirey who had a striking resemblance to her mother.

You don’t remember much from the tour only where to find the healer’s tent and where you’ll be sleeping thought you didn’t know which bed is yours yet. You happily made you way back to your parents, skipping quickly towards them when they were in sight. “Sa’nu, can’t you stay a while longer? I already have to be alone for Eywa knows how long, when will I see you both next?”

“Ma ite, you will be fine, please keep an open mind, you are smart and kind and he will be lucky to call you his, my opinion is biased but you are by far the most beautiful girl here, and we are so proud of you for doing this. Be brave and be strong. I am sorry we cannot stay longer; the journey is just too far for us to delay it.” your father spoke up holding your face gently in his hands.

You sighed into his arms softly looking up at him. You already missed him; your father has never once left you to fend for yourself, but he surely did teach you and your brothers how. You considered yourself very highly trained because of this but it was not what you are known for across pandora, so you kept it to yourself.

You were about to speak up when someone cleared their throat behind you. It was Jake Sully and his wife. You spun on your heels and backed into your taller parents. “I see you Toruk Makto, Neytiri” your father greeted them respectfully and your mother followed.

“I see you olo’eyktan of the Tawkami clan. I am glad your daughter has agreed to be apart of the games for my boy. I just wanted to personally assure you like I have done with the other parents; your daughter is in capable hands. I understand the journey from tedious and we appreciate the trust you have put into us and our clan”

“Ah, Jake Sully, I am not worried for my daughter’s safety I am aware she will be well cared for, and she can more than fend for herself I am sure of it. We will not be able to visit as much as the other clans but please do not hesitate to send for us if you must. Our children are always our priority, it is something I am sure you understand” your father spoke to him. It was nice seeing them be polite to each other, if neteyam does end up choosing you, you wouldn’t have to worry about bad in-laws.

You took a long breath as you watched your parents flew away into the beautiful sunset. You couldn’t stop your tears when they were departing, and you stared until they disappeared as if you were scared to turn around and face this new situation. Someone had taken your stuff up to the room you’d be staying in, so you had nothing on you. A small tap on your shoulder grabbed your attention, quickly swiping your face you turn to one of the girls, Ni’alu she is a healer for the Olangi clan.

“I see you” she greeted you respectfully and I returned the favor, “you must be the famous y/n, it is a pleasure to meet you, my name is-”

“Ni’alu, I remember from the emailer introductions, it is a pleasure to meet you as well, you have a lovely name” I smile at her softly, she was a kind woman, slim and had long hair, almost the same length as yours but straight instead of curly. She wore a beautiful red chest cover with a loincloth that had matching feathers hanging down the side of her thigh, she was definitely dressing to impress, she looks gorgeous.

You did not try nearly as hard. Your loincloth and matching top were a pretty color lilac, with a sting of beads hanging around your stomach in lilac and white. It was not as fancy as how the other girls decided to dress but your journey was longer, so you choose comfort. “Shall we get cleaned up for dinner?” I asked her politely and she nodded.

You and Ni’alu walked together to the sully kelku where all the other girls plus the family had gone to get ready for the communal dinner. You watched as the girls climbed up the tree to the kelku, Ma’via was exceptional in this. She is a hunter, part of the Kekunun clan. Though it shouldn’t surprise you, she must do a lot of climbing in the mountains.

Ma’via wore clothes thicker than the other clans did, you assumed it was because of the lower temperatures in the mountains. She was taller than the rest of you, supposedly a very strong hunter. She wore a clean white fur chest cover, the sleeves feel off her shoulders and she wore brown wooden jewelry. Her hair was twisted into long neat looking dreads. Her loincloth was plain, and she had the fur draped over her hips like a high-low skirt. She looked ethereal, strong beautiful woman, one made to rule her clan one day.

By the time we all made it to the top, I held my hand out to help Ni’alu off the last branch and onto the woven floor, the kelku was so cozy, you saw private rooms for all of the sully children to the left of the living space under the stairs that lead to where you and the girls would stay, with drawn curtains separating them from the rest of the living space. Jake and Neytiri also had their own space towards the back of the kelku and all their entryways to the rooms were situated right next to each other cutely, you knew who each room belonged to by the cute planks with scrappy hand writing that had each of their names on it. No doubt made by Tuk.

It made you smile when you saw Korra’s name next to Lo’ak’s on their room. They were so close as a family lo’ak never found a reason to move out. It spoke a lot about the kind of people they are. Korra as an outsider would not put up a front if they made her uncomfortable, she would have made lo’ak move out. Maybe this wasn’t a bad family to marry into.

“Ok girls, when you need to shower, we have private hot springs behind the tree for you all to use, it is secluded and no one else in the clan is allowed to use them so you all can feel at ease.” Neytiri smiled at all of you.

Another girl who was standing next to you spoke up, Lei’wa of the Tanrangi clan. She had short wavy hair, her chest cover and loincloth were a pretty color green that made her skin look radiant. She had beads through out small sections of her hair, she was absolutely stunning and didn’t look like the harden warrior she parents made her out to be, but you had no doubt she was. “I really need to bath”

“Me too girl I feel gross after that journey, I’m y/n by the way” I smiled at her and greeted her with my hands to my forehead.

She hesitated but did return the gesture, she smiled at you as she said “I know who you are, who doesn’t?”

“Fair point…”

You weren’t sure how to respond to her dry demeanor you were only trying to be nice. You didn’t want to hate these girls, for all you knew you’d be around them for the next few months. You walked up the stairs with the other girls and got situated for dinner. You all had small dividers that gave you some privacy, but everything was out there not that it bothered you. Growing up with brothers was much worse than whatever these girls could possibly do, or so you thought.

The communal dinner was beautiful. The clan gathered and it was the first time you really saw them in their numbers. You knew the omatikaya had lost a significant amount of people during the war against the sky people but the clan was still three times bigger than yours at least. The way they sat together, families and children running about it was all so domestic. Everyone knew each other, they spoke to each other as if they were all one big family and they in fact were. The Omatikaya have always considered themselves as one. You know Neteyam will have his work cut out for him when he does take up the mantle of olo’eyktan. Being the eldest yourself however, you knew exactly what kind of pressure that was. By the looks of it Neteyam was already well loved by the people. Tonight, he was tasked with sharing out food wrapped in the leaves for everyone, every similar to how your clan does it.

You were about to offer your help but it seemed the competitions have already started, you saw Lei’wa and Ma’via already on both if his sides, smiling sweetly as they helped him distribute. You almost rolled your eyes at that, but Ni’alu caught on and sniffled a laugh.

“What’s so funny?” You whipped you head to look at her.

“Nothing, they just all up on him already I thought the games don’t start until tomorrow” she giggled harder.

“I know, why aren’t you more upset? That is potentially your man they wanna crawl up on” you smile at her playfully, you felt a bump on your shoulder on the other side of you and turned to see Korra sporting the same smile at you.

“Shouldn’t you be upset to? That logic also applies to you” she giggled with her hand in her hip. We all ended up laughing over the situation for a bit as we made our way to join the line.

“Good point but we’re talking about Ni’alu right now” you giggle. Korra shook her head before turning her attention Ni’alu who stood staring at the girls, “maybe you should do something to get his attention” Korra said.

“Who her? Or me?” You ask her. “Either one doesn’t matter…he has to spend time with all of you, can’t let them keep him to themselves” you thought about what she said for a second and she’s right, you didn’t want to seem desperate, but Neteyam was so….you couldn’t even describe it something about his demeanor just pulled you in. You’ve barely spoken two words to him, but you definitely want to get to know him.

Watching those girls be all up on him did bother you a bit but it wasn’t enough for you to make a fool of yourself trying to get his attention. “I’m hungry and tired, can we eat so I can go to bed” the girls giggled at your words, and both joined the line with you.

When you were standing in front of the three you greeted them respectfully, you let your eyes linger slightly on Neteyam and you know he noticed from the way he held eye contact with you as you slowly stepped away before you broke it and sat down next to Ni’alu.

The way his golden eyes flickered on you made your heart beat a little faster. You almost felt heat coming off him, as if he were standing closer to you than he actually was. The way he held eye contact with you so fearlessly like he didn’t even care the other girls were staring at the interaction with distain. But who could really blame him? He was looking at you. His eyes were undeniably beautiful; you could only wish to get a closer view, and you will.

Dinner commenced and it was incredibly lively, your clan only got like this when their was a celebration taking place but you learnt quickly the Omatikaya celebrate life daily, they never take a day for granted. There was singing and dancing, chanting to Eywa to bless the clan and its people it was all such a moving experience to be apart of Omatikayan rituals, you felt so connected to the way they expressed themselves you couldn’t wait to learn what you could about the clan.

The music was so powerful, it vibrated your soul and the melodies voices that sung to Eywa, you couldn’t help but sing along to the songs you knew to Eywa. What really shocked you though was when one of the Omatikayan girls who volunteered to perform tonight started singing a song all to familiar to you, a song you wrote with feelings from your heart. She started singing one of your older songs, one of the first actually. It was the based off your parents and the love they had for each other.

She started singing, ‘You’re still the one’

She sang sweetly to her husband who sat staring at her with heart eyes. You couldn’t help but have the biggest smile on your face knowing your music touched their hearts enough for her to express her love in this way. It made you so happy knowing she could relate to someone she loves so much without shame of showing it off.

You sing along softly to the chorus and swayed side to side with Ni’alu as she also hummed along. Your eyes drifted through the crowd catching small glimpse of couples hugging each other, families with their kids, the overall affection in the air made you giddy.

Your eyes darted from person to person until you were once again met with Neteyam’s golden eyes. He sat across from you with his family on the other side of the big fireplace in the middle of the clan. You almost blushed when you realized he was already staring at you while you were busy admiring his clan, he picked at the food in his leaf without looking away from you.

You continued eating slowly just like him while occasionally singing the lyrics but this time, you never broke eye contact with him, the song came to its end with sweet cheers and clapping for the young girl. Still though you looked at Neteyam as if he was the only person by the fire with you. It was almost intimate the way he stared into your eyes through the strands of your curly hair that fell, framing your face heavenly. It was not until Lo’ak nudged his brother did he break eye contact with you. You admired him for a second the way he turned to his brother before you dropped your head and finished you meal. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea you decided to come here after all.

🪸I want to thank everyone for your patience! I love you all and I’m so glad you all are still around for this! I missed you so much! I’m not sure how much I like this chapter but it is the first. Please any feedback or ideas are welcome! Reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated!

Taglist:

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[justmeinadaze]

Kai (Part of the I'm In Control Universe)(Steddie X You)

A/N: I told you I was working on this :). This is literally pure fluff. Just Steddie being dads. This is a mix of some conversations followers and I have had about these two in this universe mixed with some asks.

Please Enjoy <3

Warning: Part of this universe

No smut, very light angst, mentions of readers uber religious parents and wishing they accepted her and her family. Their son gets sick so mentions of a simple surgery, baby boy has a nightmare and Steve soothe <3. Like I said...Just straight pure unadulterated fluff.

Word Count: 2957

Donate to me <3

“Hey, little man. Oh my goodness, that’s a big yawn.”, Steve coos as he finishes carefully putting on his newborn son’s diaper while you and Eddie were passed out on the living room couch. “Alright, buddy, there we go. Oh, oh, oh, I know.”

As the little boy grunts in what Steve perceives as annoyance, he places him against his bare chest and softly bounces him a bit as he heads towards the patio doors to look out at the morning sun just barely peaking over the water across the beach. 

“It’s a beautiful view, huh? Your mommy loves the beach. When your daddy and I were looking for a nice, big house, we knew we wanted something near the water. Your name means water…or sea rather…in Hawaiian. Kai. We took mama there for our sudo-honeymoon and she had so much fun swimming. The tour guide told us that and she thought it was a gorgeous name. We did to, buddy. Yeah we did.”, he grins. “Kai Matthew Munson-Harrington.”

Placing his palm on the back of the boy’s head, Steve tilted down to kiss his forehead and inhale is baby smell that you pointed out all the time.

“I love you so much.”

The man’s smile grew when Kai shifted, nuzzling a bit more into his neck. 

His father took that as a silent “I love you to, dad.”

***

“Whenever we dream, that's when we fly So here is a dream for just you and I.”

Eddie sings softly as he holds the bottle to the baby’s lips as his son looks up at him with wide eyes as if hanging on his every word. 

“Oh, here we see the wizard staring through the glass And he's pointing right at you Now you can see tomorrow, the answer and the lie And the things you've got to do, yeah.

Okay, dude. You all done? Yeah?”

After placing the bottle beside him on the table, the metalhead tosses the rag over his shoulder and carefully positions Kai over it before firmly patting his back the way the doctors showed them. With a couple more pats, a strong but subtle burp escaped the baby’s lips making Eddie laugh like a little kid. 

“Good job, buddy. That was a burp that can only be rivaled by your mother.”, he teased as he brought the boy back down so he could look at his little face and wipe his mouth. “Don’t tell her I said that.”

Kai’s big eyes continued to run over his father’s face while Eddie continued to talk absently. 

“I can play that song you know. ‘Sacred Heart’. Wanna hear daddy play it?” The metalhead beamed as the baby cooed and he careful rose to his feet to place him in his little lean back rocking chair. 

Grabbing his guitar and sitting in front of him, Eddie began slowly strumming the tune, smirking when Kai flinched in surprise at the noise before waiting for his father to do it again. He granted his wish and began to fully play while keeping his own eyes on his son as his fingers played what he knew by heart. 

“Oh, sometimes you never fall And, ah, you're the lucky one But, oh, sometimes you want it all You've got to reach for the sun.”

The boy kicked his feet excitedly as Eddie continued, beaming with pride that his son enjoyed hearing him play. 

***

Steve snapped a picture from behind your brother’s shoulder as he jumped up from behind the sofa causing a four-month-old Kai to laugh uncontrollably while you held him up with his feet balancing on your knees. 

“Where’s Matthew? Where did Matthew go, baby?” 

Your son looked around including at his dad to find his answer but jumped in your grasp when his uncle seemingly popped up out of nowhere before cackling.

“Boo!”

“Oh my goodness!” 

Kai collapsed into your chest as he continued to giggle while Matthew sighed happily, coming around to sit beside you both. 

The front door opened as Eddie came through and placed his things by the door. 

“Hey, baby. How was recording?”

“It went pretty good. We just have a few more songs to run through. Hey, Matt—”

“Hello, darling.”, your brother cut him off. 

The metalhead playfully glared his way before coming around to kiss you and the baby in your arms. 

“Little miss and little dude.”

Kai smiled and pointed towards Eddie who got the message as he took his son from your grasp. Seeing Steve outside, he opened the backdoor and you smirked as you watched the three boys you loved interact.

“I can’t tell.”

“Can’t tell what?”, you ask.

“I can’t tell whose genes he has. Can you?” When you shake your head, he gently swats at your thigh. “Liar.”

“I’m not lying. I just…I have a feeling but I don’t know for sure and honestly it doesn’t matter. They are both Kai’s father.”

Matthew grins as he playfully wraps his arm around you and pulls you closer so he can kiss the top of your head. 

“I, um, I did what you asked… Sent mom and dad a picture of Kai.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Dad’s reply was the calmest of course.”

“What did he say?”, you whisper already prepared for the answer.

“He said…your son is beautiful and has a cute smile. That…he can’t wait to meet him one day and that you are going to be a wonderful mother.”

Curling further into his side, you beam up at him with tears glistening in your eyes. 

“Liar.”

***

“Dada.”

Steve grins at the sound of his eighteen-month-old while continuing to flip through his camera’s settings without looking up. 

“Hey Kai. Did you and mommy have fun visiting TJ?”

“Ma…Mama…”

“Oh my God, Y/N, look how big he’s gotten!”, Avery squeals from his spot the other man had placed him in within his studio under the lights. 

“I know! My baby.”, you whine as you hug him closer before placing him on his feet and holding his little palm to guide him towards your friend. “How are you two doing? Get some good shots for the article?”

Your former client grins wide as he opens his arms and you let your son go to waddle his way. With a big hug, he lifts him into the air as the man you love snaps a quick picture. 

“Oh yeah. ‘Diamond Studio’s most successful owner.’ My mom was incredibly proud.”, he beams.

Steve glances your way just in time to see your eyes fall before you softly smile and praise your friend. 

“Alright Av, I think I got everything here. I’ll send them to the editor of the magazine and they’ll choose from there.”

“Thank you so much, Steve. I really appreciate you doing this.”

“Thank YOU for recommending me.”, he chuckles as he watches him hand Kai back to you.

“You should go visit TJ and ask him how he enjoyed his visit with his grandson.”, you tease as you playfully widen your eyes. “Oh yeah. He called him grandpa and I about died.”

As soon as the boy left, Steve came over to kiss your forehead before guiding you on to his set.

“Dada.”

“Yes, my love. That’s dada.”, you encourage as the man brushes some of his son’s hair from his face. 

Backing away slowly, Steve knelt down and balanced his elbow on his knee as he took a photo.

“What’s running through your mind, pretty girl?”

When you heavily sigh, Kai’s big eyes scan over your face as you smile down at him and his father takes another picture. 

“I know it’s silly but…Avery’s parents understood when he came out and explained to them what he did for a living. I just wish…”

“…your parents understood to.”, Steve finished for you and you nod. “That’s not silly, babe. For you both, you and Kai, I wish they weren’t so stubborn but that’s not your fault. They are missing out on so many amazing experiences including getting to know their grandson.”

Your eyes closed as your trembling lips kissed the baby’s forehead and Steve’s camera clicked. 

While messing with the settings, he came over to where you were and showed you the last picture he took. 

“This right here is one of the many things Eddie and I love about you, honey. In this one photo, I see a beautiful woman and mother who would do anything for her son because she loves him with all her heart. A heart that isn’t closed off and closed minded. A heart that loved two stubborn assholes and helped us grow into who we are now. We wouldn’t be where we are today without you, baby. Neither would half the people you employ and watch over like Avery. If they can’t see that, Y/N, then fuck em.”

Steve pulls you to his chest as you begin to cry but little hands pushing at you both elicit a small laugh. As you lean back, his tiny palms touch your cheeks as Kai pouts out his lips and lightly headbutts you as he tries to kiss your forehead.

***

Eddie holds his two-year-old son to his chest as you three wait for the doctor to come back with the results. Kai fusses in his sleep causing the metalhead to make sure he was alright as he continued to pet his head. 

“You don’t think they gave him too much medication, do you?”

“Eddie—"

“He’s just really little, Y/N, and that was a big shot of liquid. What if they gave him too much—”

“Baby, it’s ok. He’s ok.”, you comfort as you rise to your feet to sit beside him. “They said it would bring down his fever and help with the pain. At least he’s finally sleeping.”

“Alright, family, thank you for waiting. It looks like little Kai does have another ear infection so Miss Y/L/N, we’ll move forward with what we talked about with putting tubes in his ears. It’s a short surgery—”

“Surgery? It’s that bad that he needs surgery?”, Eddie interrupted. 

“It’ll be extremely fast, at most thirty minutes, and once we’re done you can take him home. We put him under and insert the tubes to drain the fluid—”

“Put him under? I thought you said it was short but you have to put him under? Isn’t he too little for that?”

“Eddie, baby, he’ll be ok. This will help him in the long run so he won’t be in pain.”, you try to soothe as you rest your head on his shoulder. 

“Can we be in there with him?”, Steve asks.

“Of course, but, um, we only allow, um, two…”

“Ok, let us know when everything is ready.”

After the doctor leaves, the pretty boy places himself in front of you with a big smile. 

“You two stay with him and I’ll wait here for him to come back. Maybe I can see if they’ll let me start signing paperwork so we can leave as soon as possible.”

“Steve—”

“I think it would be good for them both for you to be in there, baby.”, he whispers making you smile as well as you two glance the metalhead’s way as he hugs Kai tighter. 

“I just hate him being in pain. If I could take it all away and feel it for him I would.”

Gently running your fingers through his hair, you tilt up to kiss his cheek. 

“That’s one of the many reasons why you are an amazing father.”

***

A three-year-old Kai taps Steve’s arm rousing the man from a sound sleep. 

“Hm…wha…hey, hey, buddy. What’s going on? Are you ok?”

“I had a bad dream.”

“You had a bad dream? Ok.”, the man groans as he pulls back the covers and allows the boy to climb in beside him who giggles lightly when he wraps his strong arm around him to flip him over to face you and Eddie. “Do you want to tell me about your nightmare?”

Your son takes in the sight in front of him, you asleep with the metalhead’s own limps circled tightly around you. 

“I-I can’t find mommy.”

“She’s right there, honey.”, Steve answer groggily as he lazily points towards you. 

“No…in my dream…mommy gone.”

The man’s eyes fully open as he glances down to take in Kai’s nervous features as he reaches for your hand that on impulse you hold. 

“Mommy would never leave you, bud. She loves you so much.” He nods but Steve still sees the slight hesitancy as his dream plays through his expressive little eyes. “Did you know daddy and I lost mommy once? Not because she left or disappeared but because we were stupid.”

Kai’s head turned to look at his father, fully enthralled as he waited for him to continue. 

“Yeah, we thought we were protecting her so daddy and I left.”

“How can you keep mommy safe if you weren’t there?”

Steve chuckles lightly and through the darkness he notices Eddie smirk as well. 

“That’s a good question, little man. Like I said, we were stupid. But…we realized our mistake and did everything we could to get mommy back. We realized that she loved us dorks for who we are and just wanted to be there for us. We were terrified to let her in but when we finally did it was the best thing we ever did.”

“Why?”

“Because we love her and…”, he pauses as he kisses the boy’s forehead. “…we love you. You two are the best things to ever happen to daddy and me. We’d never let anyone hurt you or mommy. No one is going to take her away and no matter what the three of us will be here for you, Kai.”

The boy’s head turns as you sigh in your sleep before jostling you slightly as he crawls between you and Eddie’s arms to curl up against your chest. 

“Everything ok, baby?”, you mumble when you feel his hair brush against your chin. 

“I love you, mommy.”

“I love you to, honey.”

Steve watches with a smile as you kiss the back of your son’s head and you both drift off to sleep. 

***

“Hey, Y/N? Can we talk, baby?”

“Uh oh.”, you joke as your eyes meet your four-year-olds across the lunch table and he giggles your way. 

“Get out of here, butthead, so we can talk to mommy.”, Eddie jests before helping the boy to his feet and you three watch as he scurries to the tv in the living room.

“Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, yeah, little miss, of course.”, Steve begins as they both sit on either side of you. “We wanted to talk to you about our careers when it comes to porn. We, um, we were thinking about retiring.”

Your eyes widen in slight surprise as your gaze shifts to the other boy who nods at his friend’s statement. 

“Ok, may I ask why?”

“Kai.”, Eddie answers as he leans forward to take your hand in his. “We’ve been doing this for a little over ten years? I think. Because of porn, we were able to find you and have the best life we could ever dream of, sweetheart. Now we want to focus on him and something he can be a part of. I love bringing him to the studio with me and seeing him light up when I play or sing.”

“I like bringing him to our shoots. He talks to everyone and sometimes during sessions they’ll ask if I can take a couple with him. He’ll strike a pose and it’s so cute. I love being able to do that with him.”

You smile softly as you glance towards your son who laughs at something he sees on the television as he jumps up and down, clapping his hands. 

“I understand. I’m not sure what you have to do or if I have to do anything. I’ve never had a client retire. I’ll call TJ later and ask him.”

“Are you alright, baby?”

“Yeah, no, I’m fine. It’s just kind of weird, you know? You were my first clients and technically my last ones. It’s like…a part of my career is fully retiring to.”

“But look at where you are, sweetheart. You own your own agency and manage agents who take care of so many clients the same way you did. Avery owns a whole fucking studio and was in a magazine praising how amazing he is. Steve is a rockstar in the photography field and always booked up. We’re about to release an album that people already seem excited for which is so surreal to me.”, Eddie laughs and your grin his way. 

“None of that would have been possible without you.”

“Mommy?”, Kai calls as he runs up to your side and rubs your arm as you try to quickly wipe your tears. “Why you make mommy cry!?”

Both boys laugh lightly as you lift him off the floor and sit him in front of you on the table. 

“It’s happy tears, baby, I swear. Daddy and dada were just…being too sweet to me…”

“Don’t…don’t they always?”

“Yeah, they do.”, you grin as you kiss his forehead.

“Hey, can I get one of those?”, Steve jests as he stands, leaning towards you as he tries to kiss your lips but Kai’s little palm stops him as he tries to push him away.

“MY mommy! You don’t get kisses, dada.”

“Pfft like you can stop us.”, Eddie jokes, suddenly beside you as he hastily kisses your cheek before running towards the living room. 

“HEY!”, he shouts, climbing off you to chase after him.

You and Steve smile as he kisses your other cheek and follows both boys out the back door towards the beach. 

##############

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[dood-itsradical]

Same Difference.

Pairing: Jake Kim x F!Reader

Summary: Never the one to speak of your father, Jake beat you up to it. Finding the irony of the situation.

Genre/Trope: Fluff, established relationship, friends to lovers.

Details: 1.1k words, tomboy!reader, f/name stands for father's name, reader's dad is gen 0 hotshot.

A/n: It's only been two days since I last posted. I'm just itching to write/post and not doing it actually makes me tweak. I love feeding y'all 😔 As always I don't do requests.

Masterlist

"Hellooo...! Earth to (Name)."

The snapping finger finally released yourself from your daydream.

"Huh?" You turned to Jake. "Oh, sup J." You brushed your hair back.

"You alright? How far are you?" He leaned on the desk to your side. You shake you head, ignoring his question. "Sorry, what were we talking about?"

"Right." He nodded, decided not to pry on you further. He gestured the boxes and files, "You were helping me getting rid of these junks?"

Giving him a weird look as you put two and two together since it's obvious that he could've just given this task to anyone.

"If you wanna hang you could've just said so, you know." You deadpanned.

He shrugged innocently, "Guilty but I wanna be careful. See if there's some stuff I might wanna keep."

You grimaced, pulling a grin. "Might."

"Might." He cringed. "Because see this." He pulled out old photos to you. Most of them were Gapryong Kim, no doubt. Few were him with other folks.

You took them from his hand, looking closely for yourself, "What are you hoping to find? I thought you hated the guy."

"Can't a guy look around without feeling bitter? I ain't a sissy."

His casual reply made you rolled your eyes. But you get him. And good for him for getting over the grudge. Or not. It's no rocket science that he's just hiding it for the sake of his image. Especially to you. To anyone, really.

"Huh."

"What?" You turned at him.

"Didn't know he and (F/Name) knew each other. Not surprised but, damn."

Your brows lit up but luckily he didn't notice. You leaned closer towards him to take a good look at what he meant. And well what'd you know? His old man and your old man standing together.

"You...know him?" Jake nodded, "Not much. But I heard enough. I always wanna learn (F/Name) fighting style. That fist. I just couldn't get it right." He formed his own fist, demonstrating his failed attempt.

Your gaze trailed at his body posture curiosity. You take notes to what he lack. Almost as if you're be able to scan him right here and then.

"Like this." You instead automatically showed him how it's done without feeling like you're showing off. You aren't. You're just show what you know. So forming a fist of your own, you leaned your upper body forward slightly and push the air, mimicking a subtle punch.

"This?" He followed you, again still getting it wrong. You shook your head, scratching your neck, "It's a bit complicated. I don't know how to explain."

Jake grinned and relaxed his body once more. "Don't be like that. Teach me. You know didn't you? I've never seen you kick ass up close before, it's not fair."

You only chuckled and continue with the junks. But does he stop talking about (F/Name) after that? No. And it confuses you. What did he see in your father that you don't? To you, he was just a guy with knowledge to pass down before he grow old. But an old fashioned influencer? You legit thought the guy was a nobody. He was an isolated man. Respect or feared by many. Never in your life thinking he'd get out there. Let alone having friends. Friends are too generous. Colleagues are more like it.

"Does he...have any kid?" You didn't know why you asked that, but you were mindful enough be vague about it. You were quite curious now that you know your pop was, or still is a big shot. Might as well use the privilege by hearing it from Jake.

He nodded, tossing the papers into the burning barrel. "One. A son. Never seen him. People said he's good too. His first kill was when he was nine."

Your face hardened. First kill. Nine years old. You really didn't wanna hear about that. Seems like words do come around here. And a son. People refer you as 'the son'. It makes you wonder if that's what your father rather see you as or you just look like one. Besides, you hardly get by proper friends back then. Son or daughter, same difference. They were all afraid of him. The thought still makes you slightly somber. Your movement slowed.

Jake notices but continue, "Got something you wanna share? I won't bite. I'll get it if you have a bitter pasts with him. Consider how knowledgeable you are." He tossed the last one in his hands then sit down on a portable chair. "But I'm curious about what you've learnt. Hell, I'm not gonna lie, I'm very curious. So...why not be a doll and share it? With your favourite boy Jakey?"

Your solemnity faded, replaced with a snicker, "'Jakey'? You really know how to persuade me. You persuade better than girls do."

"Yes, well, it's part of the big deal." He lays out his one-liner like winning an award. You laughed, tossing the papers towards him but missed completely as they flew to the opposite direction. "Oh my God. You're not gonna stop using that, are you?"

He laughed with you, leaning back only to lose his balance and landed his back on the ground. You both shared another round of laughter.

"Okay but seriously. I can't know?" He kept himself laying on the ground for a bit, eyes stayed on you.

"I never said that. I'll be honoured to teach you." You sighed, stretching your arms. "Besides, I hate to keep you in the dark. We're friends-"

"Boyfriend and girlfriend." He quickly corrects you.

"Right, sorry. And I'm too guilty for not telling you that (F/Name) is actually my dad."

He nodded, "Yeah, I totally get that. I'd be to- wait." He paused, "...What??" now standing up to look at you properly. He comes forward and grasps your shoulder firmly with intense eyes. "Please. Teach me."

Save to say he took it pretty well. And as promised during your spare time you spar with him by teaching him what your father had taught you. Seeing him so concentrate surely piqued your interest. You have so much to focus on. From fixing his postures and techniques to his constant shirtless, sweaty, covered-in-tattooed self.

"That's it for today." You exhaled, wiping your sweat with a cloth.

"You go ahead, I'll meet you inside later." He insisted. But you didn't leave yet. "You could use the break too. I hate to...hit the shower alone." You muttered, hoping he didn't hear that part. But he did, now staring at you like a deer caught in a headlight. Now you feel embarrassed. You're no better than him. Flustered as he is.

"Nevermind, um, forget I said that." You turn your head sheepishly. He was quick to catch up with you. "No, no. I'll come too."

"No, it's fine-"

"I'm coming, no take backs. You, me, shower. Yes? Yes. Okay." He fastened his pace, pulling you by his arm effortlessly. He's totally gonna be the death of you.