#can't remember if I saw it when they took me there as a little kid but I have seen video of them doing it and o.o

[lesenbyan]

yanno, for a show that seemed to always be running when i was growing up (disclaimer; I did not grow up with the channel; I only had access when visiting my mom's parents if they were even in the same state) Danny Phantom really is a short show, huh?

[mozart-the-meerkitten]

Apparently this is a common thing with young sharks! My parents used to walk up and down the beach of Ocean City NJ in the morning and yeet little sharks that had gotten washed to shore back into the deeper water.

Wait are we all ignoring that you apparently threw a shark once? Please tell us more!

My family likes to vacation in Topsail, North Carolina, which is a little barrier island mostly covered in vacation homes. We rent a huge house in their off season, when most people consider it too cold to be at the beach, and we, with our icewater blood, consider it quite pleasantly deserted.

I love going for walks at night, especially when there’s a clear sky, so I, age sixteen, would go a few miles up the beach around midnight most nights. One night, while still about a mile from our house, I saw something rolling in the surf. 

“That’s either a plastic bag caught on a log,” I thought, “Or a four foot shark.”

I jogged over. It was not a plastic bag caught on a log. 

The shark was moving and didn’t appear to be hurt, but was caught in water only an inch or so deep, being pushed higher with every wave. I was by myself, and didn’t own a cell phone, and couldn’t see a house with lights on in either direction. There was nobody around. Leaving to go get help would probably take long enough for him to suffocate. The best thing I could do for this shark, I figured, would be to get him back in the ocean. 

I have no idea how he wound up so high on the beach, because it was a very shallow slope. I’d have to carry him a good fifteen or so feet to get him into water deep enough to swim. It was nearly a full moon, so I could sort of see what I was doing. I got a grip on the shark, careful not to squeeze too hard, in case he was hurt, and picked him up. He didn’t like that at all. 

I started walking into the water. Here’s a thing I didn’t know about sharks: They’re pretty damn flexible. I got a couple steps with this shark, looked down, and realized there were a hell of a lot of teeth coming directly at my forearm. 

It occurred to me that I had not thought this through very well.

I’m not proud of what I did. It seemed like the best way to get this shark back in deep enough water and avoid dropping thirty pounds of very bitey animal directly on my own toes. So.

I yote the shark with as much force as I could muster. 

He curved through the air like a thing of beauty, all angry and toothsome in the moonlight, and splashed wonderfully into the deeper waters. I caught a glimpse of fin diving away shortly after. 

And that’s the last I saw of him. 

[happy74827]

Joyride

[Wade Wilson x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Remember kids, always look at the road when driving. It can help you avoid certain blabber mouths 🫶

WC: 2556

Category: Fluff, Annoying!Deadpool, 4th Wall Breaks, Insane Amounts of Profanity {TW: Deadpool (for obvious reasons)}

In honor of watching Deadpool 3 (super good btw), enjoy this random chaotic fic I created with the help of @yoursacredqueenmother. This is super chaotic lmfao

『••✎••』

Shit. Shit. Shit. SHIT.

A millisecond ago, you were driving down a street. In the middle of traffic. At a red light. Now, you were panicking, looking over the front of your car for the flash of red you had just seen. It took a couple of seconds for you to realize that there was blood on your car and on the ground—a lot of blood.

"Oh, shit. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!"

You quickly hopped out of the car, rushing to the spot you thought the person… or thing would be, but… there was nobody. There was blood on the ground but nobody.

Did you hit a deer, and it just… ran off? No, that can't be right. You definitely saw something red, and it most certainly was not a deer.

You looked around, confused. How the hell does something bleed all over the ground and then disappear without a trace?!

You got back in your car, deciding to drive to the closest police station. Maybe they knew something about this.

So, you decided to abandon the shortcut home and drive to the nearest police station, which happened to be just down the road. But as you were minutes into the drive, you felt the sudden urge to look in your rearview mirror.

And there you found your mysterious red-suited victim in the backseat, holding the biggest knife you have ever seen as his white-covered eyes stared at you from behind the mask.

You never hit the brakes faster in your life. The car made an ugly screeching sound, and the sudden force slammed the red-clad man into the back of your seat, making him let out a surprised yelp.

The car finally came to a stop, and the masked man recovered quickly, pushing himself off of your seat and glaring at you.

"Well, aren’t you just a heart break—"

He didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence.

You grabbed your keys from the ignition and popped off the attached pepper spray, turning around and squirting him in the face. He let out a scream, and you quickly got out of the car, shutting the door and running as fast as you could.

Unfortunately, you didn’t get very far. Despite being hit by a car, and subsequently getting pepper sprayed, the man (or what you assume to be) caught up with you and blocked your path, his hands on his hips, his head cocked to the side.

"Alright, lady, what the fuck?" He asked, his voice sounding nasally, most likely because of the spray.

You stared at him, confused. He looked like he was waiting for an explanation.

"W-What the fuck?! What the fuck me? What the fuck you!" You exclaimed, your voice cracking a little. "What the fuck are you doing in my car?!"

"Well, I was trying to hitch a ride! But clearly, that didn't work out. Thanks a lot, by the way, for the pain and suffering. You’ve really opened up my horizons here."

It almost sounded like he was pouting.

"What the—! A ride?! Why in the hell would you just hop into someone's car?!"

"Uhh, because you ran me over, genius! I mean, come on, the least you could do is offer a guy a ride home after that. And then, the cherry on top of the fucking sundae: pepper spray!"

The masked man, so to speak, threw his arms up in the air, and you could almost see him rolling his eyes underneath the mask. Of course, that’s when you noticed the obvious broken bones in his hands. And the blood. There was a lot of blood.

"Look," the guy started, walking closer to you. "I know, I'm a big scary guy with a big scary knife and a bad temper and all, and you’re just… well, I’m sure you have an amazing personality, but how about we put all that aside, and you give me a ride, alright? Just drop me off at the corner of 10th and 55th, and you can forget this ever happened."

"Your arm… your wrist. It's broken," you told him.

"Yeah, no shit," the man scoffed. "Got any Taylor Swift CDs in that car?"

"Uh… no, not really. Why?"

"Cause, baby, I’m Shaking It Off!"

There was a pregnant pause, and you weren't quite sure if he was being serious or not. I mean, surely he wasn’t about to just ignore the fact that his arm was the complete opposite of norm—

But when he shook his arm in a violent manner, and a loud crack followed suit, you realized, with a heavy heart, that yes, this guy was serious.

What you didn’t know until a few seconds later, however, was that he snapped his bones back into place like it was nothing. It took the flexing in his fingers to realize it, too.

"Holy shit." You truly were in awe.

He seemed to find amusement in your expression, tilting his head slightly and giving you a once-over. And, yes, you could feel his eyes on you, and for some reason, it sent a shiver down your spine.

"So… Wendy Torrance, about that ride? Can you give me a lift, or are we gonna start that chick flick moment where your mental breakdown leads to slow-motion running to a Sia song?"

You could only stare.

"Alright, well, if you're going through with the latter, then at least play something that doesn’t involve that little dancing girl who likes to wear potato sacks as clothes."

You couldn’t believe this was happening.

"You are literally insane." You breathed out, shaking your head.

Even if you couldn’t see it, something told you that he made the biggest grin underneath his mask.

"Why, thank you, darling."

Fast forward a couple of minutes, and you found yourself driving towards the address the red-suited stranger had given you. You couldn’t really make conversation. He had his hands in his lap, playing with a knife, and was staring at you, his head tilted.

"You can blink, you know. I'm not a zombie," he informed you, making a gesture to his mask and eyes, which you assumed he was blinking underneath.

"Right," you nodded.

“Well, mostly, at least. I mean, I still have a pulse, but it's kind of irregular, and I think it's because I keep getting shot and stabbed in the heart. Oh, and I guess I'm also pretty much immortal, so that's probably the reason. But I think the whole not-dying thing cancels out the heartbeat thing, right? Like, the more times you get impaled or decapitated or set on fire, the more it doesn’t matter because it doesn’t affect you anymore, am I right?"

You glanced at him. He was staring at you, his hands still and his knife resting on his leg.

"…Do you ever shut up?"

"Woah-hoho, feisty. And here I thought I was going to break the ice with a good ol' fashioned knock knock joke."

"I don’t think that would've been funny."

"That's what the last girl said."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhm. Except she wasn’t talking about the joke. I made her laugh in a different way."

You glanced at him again, and he was giving you a knowing look.

"I can't decide if you're disgusting or not."

He hummed, shrugging his shoulders. That made him shut his mouth just long enough for you to turn on the radio but not long enough to avoid the inevitable.

"Hey, hey, I got a good one: Knock knock."

You let out a long sigh, closing your eyes. "Who's there?"

"Orange."

"Orange, who?"

"Orange you glad I'm not a serial killer?"

"That wasn’t even good."

"I know. It would've been better if I could've pulled the knife out of my belt. You know, just for show." He twiddled his fingers at you.

"That wouldn’t have helped," you said.

"Nope," he agreed. "But it would've made a great story."

"I suppose."

"Yeah. Hey, hey, I got another one: Knock knock."

"You just—"

"Knock knock."

You let out a huff. This man was the most childish, annoying, idiotic, strange, weird—

"Knock knock."

"Oh, just fucking tell me the joke!"

"No! It doesn't work that way!"

You rolled your eyes, but before you could answer, he beat you to it.

"Okay, okay, how about this: Knock knock."

You didn't say anything.

"Knock knock."

Your eyes flickered over to him for a second.

"Knock knock."

"For fucks sake!" You exclaimed. "Who's there?"

He leaned forward, closer to you, and you could see his mouth moving.

"Deadpool."

You were confused.

"D-Deadpool? Is this a reference to that shitty horror movie? If so, that wasn't even good, and I'm not laughing, and I don't get the joke."

He just gave you a blank look, or at least you thought he did.

"No. My name's Deadpool."

"That’s…" you trailed off. "A pretty dumb name. Like that outfit you're wearing."

"Hey! Diss the name all you want, but don’t you dare diss the suit. It's my trademark. Not everyone can pull off this type of look; it’s a very rare art."

"Whatever. You still haven't told me the punch line to your dumb joke."

"Punch line? I never said there was a punch line. It was a knock knock joke."

"So then… What was the point? To annoy the driver into wanting to run you over again?"

He chuckled, a low, deep sound that vibrated in his throat. That… That was… oh.

He was still close, and now, with the new angle, you could see the small, yet very visible, curve of his lips, and that made you wonder who was actually hiding behind the mask.

"You are seriously the strangest person I've ever met."

"Oh, babe, you don't even know the half of it."

"Please, enlighten me," you replied sarcastically, glancing over at him.

His masked eyes looked into yours, and you knew he was grinning; you could practically feel it.

"What do you wanna know?" He asked.

"Uh, I don't know. Something other than the fact that you're a nutcase. How about your real name? It's obviously not 'Deadpool,' and I doubt anyone actually calls you that. So, what's your actual name?"

"Oh, wow. Right off the bat, huh? You know, the last girl I was with wasn’t nearly as direct. Then again, she never sprayed me like I was a roach in her kitchen."

You didn’t respond. You kept your eyes on the road.

"Fine," he relented. "But don’t expect a happy ending. This isn’t Kanas anymore, Toto."

He leaned back in his seat, his arm hanging off the open window, the wind blowing through his red suit.

"Names Wade, like the boxers, but without the fancy pants."

You raised an eyebrow.

"Wade Winston Wilson, I love long walks on the beach, and a good movie, and tacos, and chimichangas, and guns. Especially guns. Kinky, but not too kinky… and did I mention the tacos? Cause I love fucking love tacos."

Maybe you should start carrying tape around.

"What about you, sugar lips?" He asked, gesturing to you with the hand he wasn’t leaning against. "Got a name, or can I call you mine? Ooh, I should’ve used that before the pepper spray. 'What's your name, or can I call you mine?' Classic, Wade. Well, except for the fact that I forgot the 'I'd like to hit it from the back' part. Damn, should have used that, too. It's a good thing they gave you the lead. Otherwise, the audience would've been confused. They would've been wondering, 'Why did the writer suddenly change the dialogue to be about sex? Wasn’t this supposed to be that pure Notebook love story we all wanted?'"

He paused for a moment.

"Wait a minute. Are we still doing the monologue thing, or is the writer done? Cause, no offense, but that was a shitty transition. And, come on, no one wants a Notebook love story anymore. Who writes those? What we need is a little romance and a whole lotta smut."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Me? Nothing, just giving some feedback. I've always had an open relationship with writers. Some might even call me the next J.K Rowling. Except, instead of a lighting scar and magic, I have an ass load of weapons with an insatiable lust for violence and blood. And tacos."

You decided to ignore him.

"Anyway, back to you. You never answered my question. Do you have a name or not?"

"I can’t believe I actually agreed to give you a ride home."

"Yeah," he said, sounding bored. "Why did you do that?"

"I don’t know. Because I hit you with my car and felt bad? You had a broken arm and were bleeding out all over the ground."

"First sign of insanity."

"What?"

"Nothing," his mask wiggled around the area of his eyebrows. "So, your name? Don’t tell me you’re gonna pull out the classic yes and no abbreviations. You know what? I’m just gonna call you Spidey. It's easier, and it’ll sound sexier when you're screaming it later."

You rolled your eyes, deciding just to ignore his comments for the rest of the drive. You were wishing that you didn't live in a city full of traffic cause, damn, this was taking a while.

"Alright, turn here."

You followed the directions and pulled up in front of an abandoned-looking building. You didn't say anything, but you did raise an eyebrow in question.

"What? A guy like me has to keep his place secret, especially when the fangirls are after him."

"I didn’t ask."

"Yeah, but I saw you wondering."

"Right."

"Hey, Spidey," he said, unbuckling his seat belt. "Thanks for the ride."

"No problem. Just make sure to keep your ass away from car bumpers. And out of my car."

"Awe, come on, baby cakes, don't be like that. You're really missing out. My ass is the finest in the business. Not to mention my package. You should see the reviews I get online."

You snorted. "I'll take your word for it."

"Yeah, you will," he said, leaning over and patting your cheek. "Hey, if you ever get lonely, or bored, or horny, or whatever, just give me a call. Here," he handed you a crumpled piece of paper. "Don't lose it, that's my number. We should totally bang, like, tomorrow, or tonight, or right now."

"Goodbye, Wade," you said, and he took it as his cue to leave. He gave a silly salute and exited the car, but not without giving you a wink first.

"See you soon, Spidey!"

With that, he walked up to the building and disappeared inside. With a sigh, you collapsed into the seat, not even bothering to watch him. You were exhausted, and all you wanted was to go home and sleep.

After a couple of minutes of relishing the nice breeze that came through the open windows, you sat up and un-crinkled the paper.

The only thing written on it was a phone number, with a small, messy, red heart and a few words that honestly had you questioning the sanity of the world:

'If you're lucky, maybe I'll even let you top. ;)'

——

Spoiler alert: it took about a month for the two of you to hook up.

And no, you did not have Domino’s luck.

[punkshort]

Birthday Wishes

Pairing: (Hallmark) Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: It's Joel's birthday and he only has one wish.

Warnings: language, hallmark style fluff, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, food and alcohol consumption, anxiety

WC: 5K

Series Masterlist

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Today was the day.

He was really going to do it this time.

He chickened out countless times already but this time, he was going to go through with it.

He was going to ask you to marry him.

The ring had a permanent home in his pocket by now, always waiting for the 'perfect time', for 'the right moment', and so many passed him by with his fingertips brushing up against the smooth gold deep in his pocket. Like the time he took you to a baseball game and you made it on the kiss cam. Or when you rented a lake house for a weekend getaway and you watched the sunset together from the front porch with a shared blanket draped over your knees.

Goddamnit, he was so nervous it was making him sick. What was he so worried for? He didn't think you would say no, although you haven't even been together even a year yet. Maybe it was too soon for you. He could have asked you two weeks after meeting you and it wouldn't have made a difference to him, he knew right away. But maybe it was different for you.

But on Father's Day, you did admit to wanting kids with him one day. So you must have been thinking about your future together, even a little. Right?

He should just do it right now. Just get it over with and slide the ring on your finger while you slept so peacefully next to him. It wasn't a half bad idea, but he always envisioned his proposal being a little more meaningful, and it felt like taking the easy way out if he just put it on your finger while you were asleep.

You deserved better than that. You deserved a whole speech on why you're so fucking perfect and how much you've changed his and Sarah's lives. And everyone should know it, not just the two of you. Everyone should hear how incredible you are and how happy you were together. If he could, despite his nerves, he would broadcast it on national television.

Then, right as you stirred, the perfect idea hit him like a ton of bricks.

"What're you smiling about?" you yawned when you peered up at him from your pillow.

"Nothin'," he said before slinking back down into bed to wrap his arms around you. You tucked your face into his neck and wedged one of your legs between both of his and it was fucking heaven the way your body fit perfectly against him. Then, you practically jumped awake when you remembered what day it was.

"Happy birthday!" you exclaimed, tipping your head back with a huge smile.

"Thank you, baby," he murmured, pinching your chin and tugging you closer so he could press your lips together.

"Feeling your age yet, Miller?" you teased with a wiggle of your eyebrows, and he laughed, pushing his hips against you underneath the covers. When you felt the growing erection in his sweatpants, you giggled and squirmed away. "Guess that answers that question," you said, tossing the covers off you so you could stand. Joel frowned and reached out for you.

"Where you goin'?"

"I have laundry to do and a whole house to clean, not to mention food to make for your party later," you reminded him. You tugged your shirt over your head so you could put on a bra and clean shirt and Joel groaned from his spot in bed when he caught a glimpse of your bare chest.

"Can't give me twenty minutes 'fore you start all that?"

You had just clasped your bra and held your shirt in your hand when you turned back around, on the verge of telling him you really didn't have the time to spare because you both knew he would take longer than twenty minutes, but then you saw how fucking breathtakingly handsome he looked all shrouded with sleep, hair tousled and voice rough, and you couldn't resist. It was his birthday, after all. With a sigh and a smirk, you jumped back into bed, straddling his lap and laughing when his eyes lit up with delight.

"Twenty minutes - I'm holding you to it."

Thank goodness for Sarah. She helped you clean the house, move the laundry, and then hung all the decorations while you checked on the cake in the oven and began to marinate the burgers, chicken and steaks.

Joel offered to help countless times but you kept refusing. Instead, you pushed him outside to relax in the sun while you worked away in the kitchen. You had the foresight to make two pasta salads the day before but you still needed to cook up the yams, get the dough for the biscuits ready, and chop up vegetables for a green salad.

Luckily your gift, two tickets for really good seats to a basketball game, was small enough to just shove into a card, one which you already wrote a sappy little love letter to him on the inside.

"Alright, living room's all set. What else?" Sarah asked when she breezed into the room. You glanced at the time before looking out the window.

"Can you start setting up the tables and chairs in the yard? The tablecloths are right there," you said, pointing to the pile on the counter which also consisted of paper plates and napkins.

"You got it," she said, but before she jogged outside, you called after her, "You're a lifesaver!"

"I know!" she shouted back, then the sliding door shut, leaving you all alone in the kitchen. You had enough time, you just needed to keep moving, but you did pause long enough to connect your phone to a speaker so you could listen to some music while you worked.

About thirty minutes later, some movement caught your eye through the window over the sink that looked out onto the backyard. You smiled when you saw Tommy and Maria climb the deck stairs to give Joel matching hugs and a small blue gift bag. Maria stepped back when the two men began laughing after Tommy made an old man joke and she caught your eye in the window. She gave you an excited wave and jogged into the house, sliding the door shut behind her and tossing her purse on the table.

"Hey!" she sang out, pulling her hair back. "Give me something to do."

You immediately put her in charge of the salad and the yams while you got all the appetizers ready, eternally grateful for her help. And she worked fast, too. Before you knew it, you had all the appetizers out on the counter ready to be taken outside but guests didn't arrive for another forty five minutes.

"I think we've earned a couple drinks of our own," Maria said, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand and jutting her chin towards the glass door where Joel and Tommy sat, beers in hand and feet kicked up, relaxing in the sun.

"Hell, yeah," you replied, swiveling around to yank a bottle of wine from the fridge. "White wine good with you?"

"Absolutely," she said, reaching on her tip toes to grab a couple wine glasses from the top shelf of your cupboard.

"Oh, my god, did Joel do these?" she asked when she closed the door and saw the intricate designs carved into the wood. You turned around and nodded fondly.

"Aren't they amazing?"

"Shit, I didn't know he was so creative," Maria said in awe, fingertips dragging over a cluster of little birds.

"He did them in my parents' house, too," you told her as you carefully poured two glasses of wine. "I told him he would make so much money if he advertised that skill a little more, but he said he doesn't want to. Said it would suck all the fun out of it."

Maria rolled her eyes in disbelief before clinking your glasses together and taking a sip.

"Is your family coming tonight?"

You nodded and rushed over to the oven to turn off a timer. "Yep. My parents, my sister, her husband and my niece."

"Anna, right? How old is she now?"

You sighed and took another sip of your wine. "Six months, can you believe it? Cassie's already begging Josh for another one, she's absolutely insane."

"Speaking of," Maria said, nodding out the window. You turned to see your family climbing the stairs of the deck, loudly wishing Joel happy birthday and giving him hugs and slaps on the back.

"Shit, maybe we should take some of these outside," you said, pointing to the appetizers.

"Let's take the cold ones out and leave the warm ones in the oven til more people arrive."

Maria and Sarah were unbelievably helpful the entire party. Sarah made sure everyone had drinks and knew where the coolers were while Maria was constantly picking up after everyone. Tommy even volunteered to grill so you could spend some time catching up with your family.

"Buck, where's Joel?" Cassie asked, looking around the crowded yard. You peered through the throngs of people until your brow relaxed and you smiled, pointing to the corner of the lawn.

"Looks like he's playing cornhole with some guys from work."

"How're things goin' with him, honey?" your father asked. You swirled around and frowned at the term of endearment.

"'Honey'?" you repeated, the word sounding vile on your tongue. "You never call me that. You only ever call me Bucky."

Your dad shook his head and took a sip of beer. "Not true. I call you all sorts'a things."

"No," Cassie said, one hand on her hip and the other cradling Anna. "You don't, Dad."

He rolled his eyes and looked to your mom for help.

"I think Dad's just wondering if things with you and Joel are still going good. He just worries about you," your mom explained, wrapping an arm around your dad's sizable waist. "You know, since moving in together. It's a big step and-"

"And we were thinkin' you might've gotten a new piece of jewelry by now, is all," you dad finished for her.

"Dad!" you exclaimed, face instantly growing hot. Thank fuck Joel wasn't around to hear that. The last thing you wanted to do was pressure him but still, the image of a small velvet box you saw tucked into his underwear drawer when you first moved in danced across your vision. "We are extremely happy, thank you very much. I'm begging you, please don't say something like that in front of him."

"Don't worry, Buck, I won't let him," Cassie promised. "Dad! You can't pressure them like that! Joel's probably just taking his time and not rushing anything because of the whole Will fiasco."

You cringed and looked away at the mention of your ex-fiancé who cheated on you with your ex-best friend back in New York City.

"It hasn't even been a year yet," you grumbled, "I'm happy, he's happy, can we please change the subject now?"

"Of course we can, Buck," your mom said, then patted your dad on his belly. "Did you tell the girls about Auntie Carolyn?"

You breathed a sigh of relief when your dad launched into a story about his sister meeting some guy at church and what a big deal it was for her as it was the first date she had been on since her husband passed away almost twenty years ago. At some point near the end of the story, Joel had sidled up next to you. His arm snaked around your middle and he pressed his lips lovingly against the side of your head, murmuring so only you could hear about what a great party it was and how he was having a fantastic time. You leaned into him, tuning your mom and dad out when the conversation began to dwindle into some dumb argument over which month your uncle died.

"Did you eat?" he asked you, looking down at you like you were the only two people on earth, his deep brown eyes sparkling brightly as they drifted over your face.

"I did, did you?"

"Mhm, ate too much. Everythin' was so perfect, baby, thank you," he said before capturing your lips with his. His mouth lingered a moment too long and if you hadn't already tasted the beer from his kiss, his delayed reaction pulling away would have been your next clue.

"How much did you have to drink?" you giggled, your family now completely ignored. It wasn't your fault. It was the effect Joel had on you, and you wouldn't change it for anything.

"Not that much," he replied, and you scoffed before rolling your eyes. "No, I'm serious. Only had, ah, three, I think. I ain't drunk."

"It's okay if you are, it's your birthday-"

"No, listen to me. I ain't drunk," he repeated, staring you dead in the eye so you could see his vision was as clear as his mind. He couldn't have you thinking he would be proposing to you drunk.

"O-okay," you said slowly, giving him a confused smile before taking his hand. "We should do cake and gifts in case people want to take off soon."

Joel nodded, following as you led him through the crowd to the deck, his free hand raking anxiously through his hair as he tried to remember his speech.

He stood by your side as you gathered everybody around the cake you made, smiling when Sarah had to shout to get everyone's attention while you lit the candles and he tried not to bring attention to the fact his hands were shaking and his breath was growing shallow.

You clapped your hands together loudly, then sang out the first note to Happy Birthday, his friends and family following suit and holding up their phones, snapping pictures and videos when he tugged you into one side, Sarah into the other and kissed the top of your heads. He made eye contact with Tommy and his brother gave him a subtle nod, holding up his phone and making sure he had the clearest angle for when he blew out his candles.

Fuck, he was really going to do this.

When the song ended, he took a deep breath, looking at you once before blowing out the candles. He vaguely heard everyone clapping and cheering, their voices stirring up old conversations again, but he could hardly process any of it through his nerves.

"Here, why don't you let me do that," Maria said slyly, taking the knife from your hand before you could begin to cut the cake. You quirked an eyebrow at her but gave her the knife anyway.

"What'd you wish for, Dad?" Sarah asked loudly, commanding most of the guests' attention. She was giving him a playful smirk, eyes darting back and forth between you while she rocked excitedly on her heels.

It was around that point when you sensed something was going on. The entire moment felt like it was moving in slow motion but in reality it had probably only been a handful of seconds. You looked over at your family, huddled together and smiling and you narrowed your eyes at Cassie, trying to read her mind to no avail.

With your head still turned, you heard a handful of soft gasps and squeaks. Your gaze was still locked on Cassie and in a split second, you saw her eyes drop to somewhere behind you. Her face crumpled and her hand flew up to cover her mouth and you slowly tilted your head to the side. She was happy. Those were happy tears.

Your eyes widened when everyone fell eerily silent and you felt more than saw their eyes on you. Your heart began to beat faster, mind racing and adrenaline shooting through your body when you finally twisted back around.

"Oh, my god!" you exclaimed, voice already breaking when you made eye contact with Joel, who had dropped to one knee while holding a diamond ring with shaky fingers. You slapped both palms over your mouth and you squeezed your eyes shut but the tears still leaked out and trickled down your cheeks. It was actually happening.

Then, you opened your eyes. His mouth was curved into a nervous smile and his eyes were glassy as he gazed up at you from the wood floor of the deck. The blood in your veins was moving so goddamn fast you could hear it rushing in your ears, so you took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm down. You wanted to make sure you remembered every single second and every single word.

"Hey, baby," he said. His tone was so soft, you almost forgot anyone else was around. It felt like, in that moment, it was just the two of you. You laughed lightly through your tears, unable to keep the smile from your face, so certain it would never, ever fade. He reached up to you with his free hand and you flicked away a couple tears before tucking your hand inside his.

"When we first met," he began, voice trembling a bit, "I know we said we would keep things casual, but, uh... I lied."

A ripple of laughter swept through the crowd and you grinned, unwilling to look away from him.

"I knew the night of our first date we'd end up right here, one way or another. You know why?"

You shook your head, tears clouding your vision, so you blinked them away.

"'Cause I never felt the way I felt that night with anyone else," he told you, his lower lip quivering as his smile slowly began to slip. "It was like... my heart knew 'fore my head I couldn't ever live without you."

"Me, too," you wept. His eyes sparkled and you saw his throat bob before he took a steadying breath.

"You changed my life. You changed my daughter's life, and for that-" he cut himself off, throat closing up and voice growing thick as he took a moment to collect himself. But when you saw two tears trickle down his cheeks, disappearing into his beard, you fell to your knees with him and cupped his face. "I can't thank you enough, baby," he finally whispered. You dragged your thumbs over his damp cheeks, tears streaming down your own face, too, but you didn't care. Joel pressed his forehead against yours for a moment, just a quick second to ground himself before inhaling sharply and leaning back. He held the diamond ring between you, eyes flickering to it briefly, then swallowed nervously before saying your full name, followed by, "Will you marry me?"

You nodded so fast you thought your neck would snap.

"Yes!" you cried out, throwing your arms around him and burying your face into his shoulder. His muscles sagged with relief right before his arms circled you, tugging you closer. Everyone around you was laughing and cheering so you couldn't hear Joel, but you could feel the way his shoulders moved and his chest heaved. Then he shifted so his mouth was next to your ear and you heard his laughter mixed with choked sobs, mimicking your own.

"I love you," you sobbed before finding his lips. "I love you so much," you said while repeatedly planting kisses all over his face. He chuckled and tilted his head back so he could give you one more searing kiss before sitting back on his heels and holding out his hand. You swiped your tears away with the back of your hand, staring at him until it dawned on you what he wanted.

"Oh!" you exclaimed, shakily presenting your left hand to him. He slid the ring on with ease and hummed his approval under his breath when you flicked your wrist around, catching the diamond in the light.

"I love it," you breathed, locking eyes with him. He had the biggest smile on his face, the kind that made the wrinkles next to his eyes scrunch up in the most adorable way. You were about to say more when Sarah tackled him out of nowhere right as your sister hugged you from behind and practically screeched in your ear.

The rest of the party was a blur after that.

The men ended up somehow finding cigars and surrounding themselves with clouds of thick smoke in the backyard while encouraging Joel to take a couple shots of tequila with them.

"Hey, go easy on him! He's old now and he's gotta celebrate later," Tommy joked. Joel whipped around, fucking praying Sarah or your father weren't around to hear that, then shoved his brother in the shoulder, muttering watch it under his breath.

Meanwhile, your family had you cornered in the living room. Your mom had been on the verge of tears since Joel proposed, your sister had passed Anna off onto your brother-in-law so she could admire your ring while already lecturing you on color schemes, band or DJ, and suggesting a few banquet halls in the vicinity that were beautiful but book up fast.

"I've been engaged for an hour, Cas! Give me a break!" you laughed before turning to your dad. "Did you know? Earlier when you were-"

"Nope!" he immediately said, his face all red from the excitement. "Well, I didn't know he was gonna do it tonight but... I knew. Asked my permission the night little Annie was born."

April? Joel had been thinking about proposing to you since April? The love you had for that man was insurmountable.

"Excuse us!" Sarah yelled out, racing through the living room with two of her friends, their phones clutched in their hands and giggling as they headed for the door.

"Uh, where are you going?" you asked when you saw her put on shoes.

She glanced up at you and grinned.

"The school football team's playing a home game, we were gonna try to catch the last quarter so Katy could give Paulie heart eyes from the bleachers," Sarah laughed when Katy shoved her shoulder, her face turning pink.

"Does your dad know?"

"Listen to Buck, already sounding like a stepmom," Cassie whispered to your parents.

"Yeah, he said it was cool. I'll be home by midnight," she replied, then right when she turned towards the door she stopped, swiveling back around and rushing over to you. She threw her arms around your shoulders, squeezing you tight.

"I love you, Bucky."

You kissed the top of her messy curls with a smile before she let you go.

"Love you, too. Be safe."

After Sarah left, a dam broke and other guests began to gather their things to leave, finding each of you to thank you for the party and congratulate you one more time until all that remained were Tommy and Maria helping Joel clean up the yard while you practically pushed your family out the door, insisting they didn't need to help and that Anna needed to get to bed.

When the house was finally silent, you tiredly strolled into the kitchen and leaned against the doorframe, looking around at the empty cups, plates, half filled bottles of beer and uncovered trays of food. A Happy Birthday banner hung loosely from above your head where someone had drunkenly scrawled congrats! in black sharpie underneath. Crumpled bags of potato chips and spilled drinks littered your counters, but you were happy. You were so stupidly, unbelievably happy that no amount of cleaning up could ever take that away from you.

And surprisingly, it didn't take very long. Maybe it was due to your unwavering good mood every time you tied up a garbage bag or ripped off a piece of foil and saw your beautiful engagement ring sparkling on your hand, but regardless of the reason, you had gotten the kitchen into decent enough shape by ten thirty, just as the sliding door opened.

"Alright. Yard's as good as we're gonna get it," Tommy yawned when he stepped inside, followed closely by Joel and Maria.

"Thank you both so much," you said, giving them each tight hugs before finding your spot next to Joel. He tucked you under his arm and glanced around the kitchen.

"You did all this by yourself?"

"It went fast," you assured him.

He looked down at you and shook his head in disbelief. "Everythin' was perfect, sweetheart," he said. "Don't know what I did to deserve you."

Tommy shrugged on his leather jacket while Maria draped the strap of her purse over her shoulder. "Alright, lovebirds. We're gonna hit it. Congrats again and happy birthday, big brother," he said before tugging Joel into a bear hug while Maria gave you another kiss on your cheek. The pair of you walked them to the door, laughing about how drunk one of their buddies from work got and taking bets on whether he would be calling in on Monday. Then they jogged down the porch and the door finally swung shut, leaving the two of you alone for the first time since that morning.

You immediately spun around and snaked your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss.

"I love you," you murmured, and he grinned before slipping his tongue past your lips. Your squeal was muffled when he lifted you off the ground and headed for the stairs. You slapped his shoulders, giggling and squirming until he put you down.

"You'll kill us both if you try to carry me up there," you told him breathlessly. He gazed down at you, dark eyes sparkling and smile stretched so wide, it almost hurt.

"See? That's why I'm marryin' you. You're so damn smart, baby."

You laughed and playfully pushed him away, then carefully walked backwards up a couple steps. "And why am I marrying you?" you teased, lifting an eyebrow.

He made a noise in the back of his throat, following after you with a devious smirk and a predatory look in his eye.

"Get to bed and I'll show you."

Joel couldn't imagine what his life would be like without you. You've blended into their lives so perfectly, it felt like you were always there. He was obsessed with you and he didn't even try to deny it if anyone caught him staring at you from across the room. The way you toss your head back when you laugh, the way your nose scrunches up when you take a sip of something bubbly, the sleepy way you snuggle into him early in the morning when his alarm goes off. All of it. Every single thing.

And, sure, the way his name sounds falling from your lips when he buries himself deep inside you is pretty incredible, too.

"Thought you'd gotten your fill this morning," you whispered in his ear, fingers combing through the curls on the back of his head, pressing him closer so your mouth could drag along his cheek.

"Never," he whispered back, and at the same time plunged into you once again. A deep groan rumbled in his chest, utterly consumed by the way your cunt stretched and pulsed around him, something that's happened countless times by now but never lost its allure.

"You... you feel so good," you moaned, head limply falling back into the sheets as his hips steadily rocked into you, building you up just to tear you back down. You gazed up at him, swollen lips parted, eyes half open, mesmerized by the fact he was going to be your husband. This beautiful man who looked at you like you held the meaning of life in your hands. Who loved you, cared for you, stood by your side through laughter and tears. Who taught you what it meant to be truly loved after your heart was shattered.

This was the man who was meant just for you, you never felt more sure about anything in your life.

"I love you," you whimpered when his hips began to grind into you, giving your clit that extra stimulation you needed to feel your orgasm swell low in your belly, your jaw dropping and your breath quickening with each forceful thrust.

"Love you," he replied, his own focus growing hazy. He nipped at your jaw, kissed your throat, licked into your mouth, needing to taste and feel you everywhere. It was never enough. "Y'so beautiful, so perfect..." he mumbled in between sloppy kisses and sharp gasps. "Y'make make me so happy. I'll never stop lovin' you... shit," he groaned, eyes squeezing shut. You were close. He could tell by the way you trembled underneath him and clenched tightly around his cock.

He let his head fall to your shoulder, driving into you over and over until your legs shook and your nails dug into his back and you cried out his name. His mouth covered yours instantly, swallowing down your moans and whimpers, headboard knocking rhythmically against the wall until his own body jolted forward, stilling and pumping you full of his seed while he whispered brokenly against your lips how much he loved you.

"Fuck," he breathed, pressing his sticky forehead against yours, rolling it back and forth as you each fought for air. You occasionally pecked little kisses at his lips but you were too tired to do much else. You felt like you were melting into the bed, every single muscle loose and relaxed, eyelids heavy and sliding closed.

"I wear you out, baby?" Joel teased when he slipped out of you with a soft grunt. You nodded, breathing in deep when the mattress shifted and the heat from his body disappeared. A moment later you felt him gently spread your still shaky legs to wipe a wet washcloth between your thighs, giving your stomach a quick kiss before heading back to the bathroom. You vaguely heard the sink running, then the familiar sound of him brushing his teeth before the light switch flicked off and he joined you back in bed.

"I'll get up in a minute," you mumbled, turning to bury your face against his bare chest, left hand snaking around his waist, the cool metal of your ring pressing against his skin. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close.

"Did you get everything you wanted for your birthday?" you asked with a yawn. He smiled and closed his eyes, blindly bringing your left hand up to his lips.

"Sure did."

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[clover-the-awesomest]

Major respect and gratitude to all these wonderful artists and logical people!! I'm an amateur artist myself who has never seen the appeal in AI art at all, or just AI in general, but I never really thought too much on how the situation affects people with disabilities. This thread though shows me and other regular people how free and creative art is. And how "Art" as a concept really doesn't have any limitations! You don't need a robot to do something that only a human can truly understand, and you shouldn't have to!

Thanks for sharing all your POV's on this situation and I'm glad we still have some sensible people in such a shitty world. <3

Plus, AI just sucks overall.

"ai is making it so everyone can make art" Everyone can make art dipshit it came free with your fucking humanity

[unknownplane]

The Court Jester Part 3

Yandere Batfam x GN Reader

Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 4

The Joker came closer, almost inspecting the job (Y/N) had done. His eyes run over the Bat.

"Good job with the knots, my little Jester. That will keep him there for as long as we want!" The Joker exclaimed with a large grin. "Now, how did you get him here so fast! I must know!"

"I can't tell you, Dad! It would ruin the game. And we love the game!" (Y/N) explained. (Y/N) went up to the Joker and side hugged him. Bruce saw this and started struggling.

"What have you done to them! They said you 'Trained' them! I know you! Tell me now!" Bruce screamed.

The Joker's smile widened as he saw the Bat struggle. "Peanut, would you be so kind and get your dad something to drink? I am absolutely parched." The Joker said with honeyed words.

"Of course, dad!" (Y/N) said, jumping at the opportunity to please their dad. They ran out of the room hoping to get a drink as fast as possible.

"Look at them. I'm so proud of their growth. You know they were so sad when I first met them. They were only 5. They were looking for someone to talk to. Can you believe it, Bruce Wayne, ignoring one of his own while still taking in new kids. Can you imagine how that felt?!" Joker laughed unknowingly rubbing salt in Bruce's wounds.

"It was perfect, you know. Them being in such dire need of affection and not caring who it came from! A perfect opportunity for me to step in and take them away! At first, they resisted. Fought so hard not to succumb! They even called out for you. Did you know that!?" Joker confessed, stunning Bruce. Even after all he did, you still called out to him? You called for your dad, your real dad.

"It took a while to get them like this. Lots of training. Brutal, really. Though nothing I haven't done to you and your birds, just in a shorter period of time." Joker stated as if he was talking about weather and not torture. This shocked Bruce, remembering all the things the Joker did to his family. "How are they alive?!" Batman questioned.

"That's the funny thing, Bat! No matter what I did to them, they wouldn't die! They would get injured, but only a few seconds would pass, and then it would completely heal! I even cut off an arm, and as you can see, they have both now! Amazing, isn't it!" The Joker exclaimed. This stunned Bruce. (M/N)'s child was Meta? No. He would have noticed.

"Now, what is taking that child so long?" The Joker said brazenly.

With (Y/N)...

(Y/N) scrambled around looking for a bottle of water when someone came up behind them. They were suddenly grabbed and restrained. "The fuck!" (Y/N) exclaimed. "Relax it's just me. I'm here to save you." Jason whispered assuming (Y/N) would stop fighting when they heard it was him. (Y/N) struggled to move surprising Jason giving them a little wiggle room. (Y/N) jabbed their elbow into Jason's stomach pushing him back into a coughing fit.

With Jason off them, they turned around. "You aren't supposed to be here, Hood." (Y/N) stated glaring. They move their hands to their hip and pull out a small stick. They hit a button, and it enlarges to become a marotte.

(Y/N) swings at Jason as he tries to dodge, not wanting to hurt his sibling. This goes on until something pierces (Y/N) in the back of their nape. They start slowing down until they pass out.

"Took you long enough." Jason said flatly, going over to (Y/N). "They were putting up more of a fight than we all thought. I needed to get a clean shot." Damian claimed. He was lying to himself. He just wanted to assess how his older sibling fought, and from what he could tell, if they were taking this fight seriously, it wouldn't have ended well. "Let's just get them out of here. The others are waiting." Jason said, knowing that when he got to the manor, he would finally get to be the sibling they needed.

Giddy, he picked them up as if they were the most precious thing in the world and started leaving. "I'll go help dad." Damian said flatly as it seemed like a chore.

With Batman...

"Why? Why would you do those horrible things to a child?!" Bruce questioned. "For fun." The Joker spoke with a wolfish smile.

The door crept open, catching Bruce's eye. He saw his youngest creeping in the room. "You know I believe this is one of the only instances in which I would be willing to kill you." Bruce said, letting Damian he had permission to try and kill the Joker. "Really! I pushed you to that level with this one joke!? How wonderful! I will have to keep this in mind for later! Now, if only that bra -" a sudden gunshot stopped the Joker from finishing his sentence.

Blood rushed from the left side of Joker's face as he fell to the ground dead. "Where is your sibling?!" Bruce questioned with urgency. "They are on their way home with Hood. If we leave right now, we should be able to get there at the same time." Damian informed Bruce. "Good now untie me so we can leave. Your siblings got a mean knot." Bruce commanded.

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

@cooki3dough @asillysimp @kitty-from-daaaa-voidddd @redkarmakai @horror-lover-69 @bat1212 @wisefuncherryblossom

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 16 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Your expectations are absolutely shattered when you get to North Island with your class and find out you're going on the field trip of your dreams. Bradley pulled all the stops, and if he wasn't already, he was about to become an absolute legend in your classroom.

Warnings: Fluff, adult banter, Bradley in love, 18+

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

You took Bradley's breath away every time he saw you. Even when he was standing tall between Maverick and Cyclone, it made no difference. He was reduced to a lovesick wreck when you walked down the stairs of the school bus with your students in tow.

"Well done," Maverick muttered, and Bradley felt his cheeks grow a little warm. You looked incredible in a pair of jeans and a plain top, but the look was really completed by the lanyard around your neck with the visitor's pass with your name on it. He'd work on getting you a permanent pass so you could stop by whenever you wanted. God, he was a mess every time he thought about the future.

When you smiled directly at him, he knew he'd take the reprimand if it came; you wanted him to kiss you right now, so he was going to. "Welcome to North Island," he told your kids with a grin. Then he looped one arm around your waist, pulled you close, and kissed you in front of everyone. "I can't wait to show you everything."

You made a soft sound when he released you, and your eyes darted from Maverick on his right to Cyclone on his left. "Thank you for having us today," you said a little breathlessly, biting your lip. You were flustered. He made you that way, and he loved hearing it in your voice.

"Fourth graders," Bradley called out. "This is Captain Mitchell and Admiral Simpson. They both outrank me. By a lot. Let's all give Admiral Simpson our attention."

"Welcome," bellowed Cyclone in his stern voice, and Bradley watched the kids fall in line silently. "This is an active military base. It is important that you remember that fact while you're visiting today." Half of them looked scared while the other half looked excited beyond belief as he said, "The last thing we want is an injury, or worse. Stay with your group. Stay near your teacher. Never go off alone." A very stiff smile appeared on his face as he said, "But have fun."

Bradley cleared his throat. "Thank you, Admiral Simpson," he told the other man, saluting him. Then he addressed you and your class again. "Does anyone have any questions before we get started?"

When Violet's hand shot up into the air, Bradley pointed to her with a smile. "Lieutenant Bradshaw, how many different kinds of jets are we going to see today? And do they all fly at the same speed? And can you help me solve a math problem that I thought of on the bus?"

"Well," Cyclone said, looking pleasantly surprised. "These children sound like aviation experts."

Bradley noticed how your smile grew as he said, "That's because their teacher is incredible." He kept his hands at his side instead of flinging his arm around your shoulders like he wanted to as he nodded toward the hangar. "To answer Violet's question, we will see three different kinds of aircrafts and get to sit in one of them."

"No way!" Oliver said in excitement. "Do we get to sit in your jet?"

Bradley winked and said, "You'll just have to wait and see."

He and Maverick led the group into the busy hangar, the kids trailing along single file as the chaperones brought up the rear. He positioned you in the middle of the group, because nothing was more important today than keeping everyone safe. He pointed out the EA-18 Growler and the E-2 Hawkeye before some Super Hornets came into view.

"Who wants to see Marty work some of his mechanical magic?" Bradley asked as soon as he saw the tarp on the ground where there were engine parts lined up like a surgical procedure was about to take place. Every child's hand shot up into the air, and he chuckled as you and the three chaperones all enthusiastically raised yours as well. "I have some good news. We get to watch while he rebuilds the engine mount and part of the intake manifold on my colleague's jet."

"Phoenix," Jayden read, pointing to the name emblazoned on the side. "That's a cool call sign."

"It's an even cooler pilot," said Natasha as she peeked around the workstation in her flight suit. "You must be the pen pals," she said with a smile. Bradley watched her wave to you, and he'd have to remember to make a comment later about how his best friend finally saw you with pants on.

"It's a woman," Violet said in complete awe. "She's a pilot."

"The best of the best," Nat replied. "You can all call me Lieutenant Trace or Phoenix. Oh! Here's my backseater, Lieutenant Floyd."

When Bob strolled around the workstation and waved to the kids with a smile, he said, "I'm Lieutenant Floyd, but my call sign is Bob."

"He has glasses!" gasped Henry. "Like me!"

Bob gave him a fist bump on his way to the rec room. "I sure do. You can fly with glasses."

"Wow."

Bradley watched all of the kids staring at him, Nat and Bob like they were the absolute coolest adults to ever exist, and maybe they weren't wrong. But they had to know they were in the presence of someone just as fascinating on a daily basis. "You all have your teacher to thank for sparking such an avid interest in aviation in your minds. She probably knows just as much as we do."

Your eyes went wide. "I'm sure I don't," you muttered glaring at him playfully. "Is that Marty? I recognize him from your deployment videos."

When you nodded past Bradley, he turned to see his favorite mechanic stroll back into the hangar with a cup of coffee in his hand. "Hey! It's the fourth graders!" he greeted. "And their teacher who I heard so much about when I was deployed with Lieutenant Bradshaw."

"Did he now?" you asked softly as Bradley gestured for everyone to move in a little closer to Marty's tarp. The mechanic was showing the kids where they could sit on the floor while he grabbed some folding chairs for the chaperones, but Bradley discreetly wrapped his fingers around your hand to keep you next to him.

"Come on, Gorgeous," he whispered, keeping his eyes on Marty as he leaned a little closer to you. "I was smitten with you right away, and I was very lonely. That man heard more than his fair share about my crush on the fourth grade teacher from Mira Mesa Elementary School, that's for certain."

You let your fingers tangle with his as you said, "You're too charming for your own good."

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

Other than Marty talking his way through the repair he was working on, you could have heard a pin drop. Your students were sitting with rapt attention, and so were the chaperones. You were standing a little bit off to the side, trying to hold Bradley's hand without anyone noticing, but you were pretty sure Captain Mitchell was onto you.

"Who wants to feel how heavy the crankshaft is?" Marty asked before he started passing it around to your excited students.

"Mine's heavier," Bradley whispered next to your ear, and you tried to fight the smile that threatened your lips. "But you already know that."

You elbowed him in the side as you watched everyone around you having the time of their life. Marty let everyone try their hand at tightening a bolt to Naval standards, then he laughed and pulled out a hydraulic machine to take care of it. Once the engine components were all in place, he let your kids try to pick it up before he informed them that everything put together weighed over five hundred pounds. He lifted the engine using a huge hook while everyone cheered like he was performing a magic trick, and then he posed for a photo with everyone.

"I can't thank you enough," you told him, shaking his dirty hand after he tried to wipe it on his jumpsuit. "My kids were just as excited to meet you today as they were to see all the jets. You're a bit of a celebrity in my classroom."

The older man blushed and smiled down at the tarp at his feet. "Well, ma'am, that's just the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me."

You hadn't even mentioned it to Bradley let, but as you released Marty's hand,  you asked, "Is there any chance you would consider visiting my school for career day to give a five to ten minute presentation?"

"Oh," he grunted, his blush deepening. "The stuff I do isn't as interesting as the aviators."

"It is," you insisted. "My kids were hanging on your every word. I could pass the information to you through Lieutenant Bradshaw?"

He kind of shrugged and grinned at you. "I'll think about it."

When you nodded and turned away from him, you found that Bradley had lined your class up again, and then he started leading them to the cafeteria for lunch. "I need you to help me make a definitive ranking of all the menu options," he told them. "This is some very scientific stuff."

"Is there meatloaf?" Nia asked. 

"Every day," Bradley promised. 

"What about the cabbage rolls that you said were yucky?" said Oliver as he bounced along. 

"Only on the aircraft carriers," Bradley informed him. "You all lucked out on that one."

He had each of you scan into the cafeteria with your visitor's badge, and then he nodded toward a long table with RESERVED signs on it. "Is that where we're all sitting?" you asked in surprise.

"Absolutely, Gorgeous. And you better sit by me."

He handed you a tray and pointed you toward the end of the line of officers getting their meals. "It's almost like a date, Lieutenant Bradshaw."

He smirked as he handed trays out to your kids. "They do have some Thai options on the menu. I will warn you and say the pasta is terrible compared to Salvatore's."

You were smiling nonstop as you selected a few different options, including some Thai curry, and made your way to the long table which was now lined with juice boxes and water bottles. Somehow Bradley thought of everything, and if he thought the last blowjob you gave him was a nice thank you, he was definitely in for another one. 

When he slipped into the seat next to yours, he asked, "Do you think everyone is having a good time?"

"This is better than anything I could have imagined," you promised.

Soon your kids were all poking at and sampling the foods on their trays, calling out opinion after opinion as Bradley pulled a small notepad and pencil from his pocket. "Okay, okay. We all hate the baked ziti?" he asked, giving you side eye. "I told you the pasta was terrible." He made a note and said, "But we all like the meatloaf and the breaded chicken?"

"Yes!" shouted Jayden.

"The chicken is so good!" called Violet.

"So is the macaroni and cheese," said Oliver.

Bradley was actually taking real notes which made you want to push him down onto the table and climb on top. 

"It's like you're really in the Navy now. You have opinions on the cafeteria food," he said with a salute. "Ready to earn your wings?"

Eighteen pairs of eyes went wide. "We get wings?" Henry asked Bradley, lunch completely forgotten.

"Only if you're brave enough to sit in the cockpit of my Super Hornet."

The table erupted in cheers.

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

"It's huge," you gasped. "It's so much bigger than I could have ever imagined."

Bradley led everyone outside to the tarmac near the hangar where his F/A-18 was parked with the ladder down. Natasha was sitting in the cockpit with Bradley's helmet in her hand, waving down at everyone.

"Why don't you go first and show everyone how it's done," he said, and you looked up at his smiling face.

"Alright," you agreed, still clearly surprised by the sheer size of the jet.

There was something about seeing a military aircraft in person for the first time that nothing could prepare you for. Some of the kids were looking at it with their mouths hanging open, and Violet looked like she was on the verge of happy tears.

With one hand in the middle of your back, Bradley helped you start to climb the ladder. The fantastic view of your ass was a perk, but he really was trying to make sure you got up safely. When you were standing on the last rung, Nat helped you climb inside, and she plopped his helmet on your head. It was comically large, and you were laughing as you waved down at everyone from the seat.

"This is incredible!" you shouted.

"You just earned yourself some wings," Bradley promised, and you pumped your fist in the air while the kids all cheered. He took his phone out to get a picture of you and Nat up there with his name on the side of the jet, and then it was time for you to climb back down. You probably didn't need the extra help, but his hands ended up on your hips anyway, and you looked back at him over your shoulder once you were on the ground.

"Thank you," came your breathless voice, and he had to remind himself that he was at work and not allowed to push you against the ladder and make out with you like he wanted to.

"Who's next?" he asked, prying his hands away from your body. The chaperones sent Jackie up to the ladder first, and Bradley held her hand until she was securely on the ladder. "Be careful on the rungs. Phoenix still slips on them all the time."

"I do not!" Nat called down from the cockpit. "I never slip on them, ever. But Rooster always does."

"You got me there, Phoenix," he said with a laugh as Jackie scaled her way up to the top. 

Each kid got a turn. Oliver told him that his jet was probably fast enough to feel like you were slam dunking off the back of a dragon after all. And Violet looked at him as she climbed down and said, "I'm really sorry Lieutenant Bradshaw, but Phoenix might be even cooler than you."

He laughed as he said, "You're breaking my heart, kiddo," and she nodded somberly. "That's okay. I'd probably agree with you most days. Go line up with everyone else so you can get your wings."

Maverick and Nat helped you and Bradley pin some replica golden wings on each lanyard, and then Bradley pinned one on yours as you grinned. "What if I want to wear the real thing?" you whispered as the kids all gushed over their little treats.

Bradley glanced down at the insignia pins on his khaki uniform. "You want to wear my shirt around, Gorgeous?"

"Maybe," you told him softly, and he could already picture it.

His nostrils flared, taking in your sweet scent over the jet fuel. "You sleeping over tonight?"

"I don't see how I could possibly stay away after you gave us the perfect day."

He swallowed hard, once again wishing you just lived there with him. Then he wouldn't have to ask or invite or assume. He would just know you'd be with him after work. "Then I'll make sure my shirt is ready for you."

"Rooster."

Bradley released your lanyard and turned toward Maverick. "Sir?" he asked as Mav nodded toward the air traffic control tower.

"They're ready for us."

"Excellent," he replied as Nat folded up the ladder next to him. "We have one more thing for you to learn about. Naval aviation wouldn't be possible without skilled air traffic controllers making sure we have safe flight paths. If you promise to be quiet, we can all climb the tower stairs and listen in."

The kids were bouncing around excitedly again as Bradley and Maverick led the troops across the tarmac with you and Nat bringing up the rear this time. "You look like you're having as much fun as they are," Mav remarked.

"I think I might be," Bradley replied with a chuckle. "Their love of aviation is pretty infectious."

Mav was quiet for a beat before he said, "That's true. But there's something else." He glanced at Bradley over his sunglasses with a very serious look on his face. "You remind me of your dad today."

"I do?"

"Yeah. Absolutely," he promised. "And I think it's because the love of your life back there reminds me a bit of your mom."

Bradley stumbled, his boot skidding along the ground, but he managed to stay upright as Maverick reached for his bicep. "Really?" he asked his dad's best friend, voice hoarse as he thought about how his mom mourned his dad for the rest of her life.

"Yes. Make sure you treat her well."

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

The tower wasn't large, and all of you had to really cram in there. But as soon as your kids saw all of the instrumentation panels and the line of officers in uniforms wearing headsets, they started asking questions.

"Quiet," you reminded them. "We promised we would be very quiet."

Bradley squeezed through the group until he was facing everyone, and he waved so everyone's attention was on him. "We have two pilots who are out over the desert and in position for you to give them some flight commands. Their call signs are Coyote and Hangman, and each of you are about to be tasked with telling them how and where to fly."

You gasped, heart beating a little faster. "Is that safe?" you asked, looking from Bradley to Natasha.

"Well, it's just Coyote and Hangman, so if anything happens, it's not such a big deal," Natasha said, earning a bland look from Bradley while she laughed at her own joke.

"It's perfectly safe," Bradley said, holding up a stack of papers. "I'm going to have everyone read off of one of these sheets." He started handing them out to the kids. "Once Lieutenant Maxwell here gives us the go ahead, she's going to turn on the speakers so we can communicate with Coyote and Hangman without a headset. And that way everyone will be able to hear the transmissions. Sound good?"

It sounded too good to be true to you, but you nodded silently. A minute later, the woman sitting in the chair at the end, removed her headset and flicked some switches. "It's all yours, Lieutenant Bradshaw."

"Thank you, Lieutenant Maxwell." He raised his voice a little louder. Coyote. Hangman. Do you copy?"

"We hear you loud and clear, control," came a voice with a southern drawl.

"Copy," came a second man's voice. "Ready at the throttle."

Bradley pointed to the paper in Oliver's hand and nodded. "Go ahead and read it," he whispered.

Oliver cleared his throat and practically shouted, "Hangman, break right. Coyote, breach the hard deck."

"Copy tower," came the immediate response.

"See it on the screens?" Bradley asked, pointing to where there was some sort of radar output of the placement of two aircrafts dipping and diving. "Nia, your turn."

She read, "Hangman, bank down to five o'clock low," and sure enough, one of the jets changed position on the screen. The children were taking this entire mission very seriously, and you were almost shaking with excitement from everything that happened. This was literally the best field trip in the history of field trips. 

Jayden was the last one to go, and after he shouted out the commands, he said, "Hangman is kind of a dumb call sign, isn't it?"

"I resent that!" drawled the first voice.

"I mean, it's just not as cool as Coyote," Jayden told him while Bradley stifled his laughter.

"He's not wrong," came the second voice. "Please tell your teacher you earned a bonus point for being so smart, courtesy of Coyote."

"Copy that!" you said, and Bradley handed the reigns back over to Lieutenant Maxwell. As quietly as could be expected, the group headed back down the stairs and onto the tarmac where apparently there was another surprise. 

Bob was waiting with a crate full of noise canceling headphones. "Hangman and Coyote are on their way to land their jets on the runway!" he said, passing out the headphones to everyone. "With proper ear protection, we can stand here and watch them come in, but we need to keep our ears covered at all times."

The kids were all reaching for a pair, and Bradley walked around to adjust them and make sure they fit nice and snug. When he got to you, he took some extra time, letting his thumb tease your cheek before moving on. Bob stood ahead of everyone with a radio to his ear, then he turned and gave a thumbs up before stepping to the side and securing his own ear protection. 

Off in the distance, you could see two dots rapidly growing in size, and even though you knew what was coming, you still jumped a bit at the noise they made as they screeched through the air and touched down on the runway. You were overwhelmed. Your heart was full. It was hard to believe that your aviation lessons in your classroom led all nineteen of you here.

You'd never be able to top this day for the rest of the school year, and you were okay with that. As long as Bradley would visit you again. And again. And again. If he hadn't already reached legend status, he definitely had after this, and you were certain an hour wouldn't go by for the foreseeable future where the kids weren't asking about him.

"Can I walk you all back to your bus?" he asked after collecting the headphones with Bob.

You let your knuckles bump against his. "Please do, Lieutenant Bradshaw. And on the way there, please tell us how we're your favorite field trip group of all time."

"I can do that with an abundance of detail."

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

Legendary. I want to go on the same field trip a million times with Bradley as my tour guide. I've started to think about what I'm going to include in the rest of this fic, so let me know if there's something you're dying to read about these two! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 17

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[h4nj1sunggg]

𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘'𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 - ( h. jisung. )

pairing: dilf!Han Jisung x fem!reader genre: smut, fluff, angst, strangers to lovers

words: 26.8k. summary: jisung is a father, y/n is desperate for a job and Seyeon likes her too much.

ᯓᡣ𐭩　  ( masterlist )  . Spotify playlist .

warnings: dirty talks, soft!dom jisung, unprotected sex (be mindful), breeding, oral (fem receiving.)

Seyeon it's a papa's girl. She took the Jisung's cheeks, and her mother's eyes, the kindness of her father but the attitude of her mom. She always tell when she doesn't want something.

"I don't like the zoo!" Jisung sigh, at the yet another attempt to take her daughter to the big gate of the zoo, the colours of the funny animals all over the signs, making every kids gasp in happiness. On the other hand, Seyeon hates the zoo.

"why sweet cheeks? you were so happy to come here with daddy," Jisung knee down in front of her little girl, both of them pouting softly, both of them don't want to hurt the other. "it reminds me of mommy, I wanna go with mommy!”

After the separation of the two parents the situation always been really hard, Seyeon never wanted to stay with Jisung for more than two days, she doesn’t like the small bit luxurious apartment that jisung as in Seoul, she loves Mom’s house right in front of the ocean Incheon. She doesn’t like the fact that her father as a cat, the mother as a dog. She doesn’t like going around with her daddy in his studio because she can’t play, she loves passing time with her mom in her painting room. They are just in two different worlds.

That’s why it never worked out. Jisung been always busy with his career as the most successful kpop artist in his group, when he met the mother in Japan, he thought right the way that she was the one. For years they kept the relationship private, for the amount of fanbase that Jisung was having, was making the girl uncomfortable. But they end up married. A beautiful marriage that everyone was loving, the parents accepted and the fans not totally supportive. As soon as Seyeon born, he knows something between him and her wife was breaking apart.

They started with a separation, living in two different places, and then the divorce was imminent. Seyeon at the age of five years old saw her father just twice a month, but after jisung retired from the band to start his career as a producer, he wanted to pass more time with her daughter.

That’s why they are at the zoo, because jisung remember that when she was three the zoo was her favourite place ever. “sweet cheeks, it’s.. just me and you today. a seyeonnie and daddy day!” He try to cheers up the little girl, making her pout just growing, but she start to walk. At the end, she’s still a papa’s girl. And she doesn't want him to report her bad attitude to her mother.

"what do you wanna see first, princess?" Seyeon mumble an answer, that jisung doesn't understand but her little hand guide his to the big spot for the lions. The man get lost in the moment, the beautiful creatures are playing around and he grabs his phone to take some pictures of it, just as a memory.

He let his daughter's hand for a second, "do you want to take a picture for mommy babygirl?"

Jisung turns to look at his side and he can't see his little girl, he's panicking at this point. He's shouting her name, trying to find her in every spot that the little girl could hide, he's so close to grab the phone and call the police when she hear her little laugh.

Her adorable laugh. He turns so quickly to get the dizziness from it, but he doesn't care, he totally lost his daughter in the zoo. When he lands his eyes on the girl she see her playing some hand-game with another woman, Seyeon it's laughing and giggling for the mistakes that they are making and you are holding her on your lap.

"Seyeon!" He calls her out as he start to get closer to them, with a speedy walk, he almost trip as you look up at him with a surprised look. "baby, I am so sorry." Copious tears dropping from his eyes, making his puffy cheeks turning red, he lift his daughter from your lap, hugging her tight. "daddy is so sorry sweet cheeks."

"don't worry daddy! I was with y/n! she's sooo nice!" The little girl squeak in a giggle, making jisung turn his head to you, an awkward smile on your face. "hi?"

You smile softly at Jisung's awkward greeting, your eyes meeting his as the moment hangs in the air. Seyeon clings to Jisung tightly, her arms wrapping around his neck while she keeps giggling, completely unfazed by the earlier scare.

“It’s okay, Daddy,” Seyeon murmurs, her small voice soothing him. “y/nie is nice. I had fun with her.”

Jisung’s breath hitches as he holds her close. “I shouldn’t have let go of your hand. I was so scared, baby.” His voice cracks slightly, the weight of the moment settling heavily on his chest.

You shift uncomfortably, unsure of how to navigate the situation. "She’s a really special little girl," you say softly, trying to keep the mood light. "And it’s not every day you get to see lions this close." Your words are genuine, but there’s an unspoken tension between you and Jisung.

Seyeon glances between you both, her small fingers twirling a lock of Jisung’s hair absentmindedly. “Daddy, I like y/n,” she says matter-of-factly, her bright eyes shining with innocence. “She paints really pretty pictures like mommy.”

Oh great, another artist, jisung thinks.

Jisung chuckles lightly, a soft smile pulling at his lips despite his earlier panic. “You’re quite the little artist yourself, princess.” He presses a gentle kiss to the top of her head before turning to you again. “Thank you for keeping her safe... and for being kind to her.”

You nod, feeling a bit more at ease despite the weight of the situation. “It’s nothing, really. She’s a sweet kid.”

Seyeon leans back, resting her head on Jisung’s shoulder, her little hand still firmly entwined with his. The moment feels fleeting, like something precious they don’t want to let go of too soon.

“Well, I should let you two get back to your day,” you say, stepping back slightly. “She clearly enjoys her time with you..?”

"Jisung, I'm Han Jisung," he watches you carefully, his gaze softening. “Would you... like to join us for lunch? a little reward to kept safe my little girl.”

You hesitate for a second, the offer catching you off guard, but Seyeon’s excited nod makes the decision easier. “Okay. Just for lunch.”

Seyeon claps her hands together, excited once more. “Yay! I love lunch with Daddy and y/nie!”

The three of you settle at a cozy corner table in a quiet café inside the zoo. The warm glow of the late afternoon sun filters through the large windows, casting a peaceful ambiance over the scene. Seyeon sits between you and Jisung, her small hands clutching a juice box as she eagerly looks between you both.

Jisung takes a deep breath, his fingers lightly tracing the edge of the table. “I never wanted to scare you, y/n,” he says softly. His voice is quieter now, more introspective. “You didn’t have to come with us, but… I’m glad you did.”

You smile softly, watching Seyeon as she drinks her juice, her little hands messy with excitement. “She’s a bright little girl. It was hard to say no.”

Jisung chuckles quietly, his eyes lingering on his daughter. “She gets that from her mother,” he says with a bittersweet smile. “And from me… the stubborn part.”

Seyeon giggles, her head tilting as she looks up at him. “Daddy, can we go to the park later?”

“We’ll see how you’re feeling,” Jisung replies with a wink. “You’ve had quite the adventure today already.”

Seyeon pout a little looking at you like you're in charge for this kind of things, "can you come too? please?" Jisung's eyes wide open, looking at you two before gasping a laugh, "baby I think y/n has her own things to do, don't you think?"

"What things daddy?" Her big doe eyes staring at his soul, he's always been bad at saying no to his daughter.

You watch them interact, their bond so natural, yet it’s clear there’s a depth to Jisung’s love for Seyeon that runs deeper than mere words. It’s the kind of love that only a parent can understand—protective, tender, and sometimes fragile.

“You don’t have to explain,” you say softly. “I understand what you’re trying to do. Being there for her. You’re doing your best, even if it’s hard.”

Jisung’s gaze flickers to yours, holding for a moment longer than necessary. “It’s not just about being her dad. It’s about being someone she can rely on, someone who won’t let go, even when things get messy. I’ve failed her before—too often, honestly. But I want to get it right now.”

Seyeon reaches out, her tiny hand resting on his arm. “You’re the best daddy, though.”

He laughs softly, brushing his fingers through her hair. “You’re the best daughter.”

You take a sip of your drink, the atmosphere soft and unburdened. Seyeon seems to sense the moment, her energy mellowing as she quietly munches on a pastry.

Jisung finally shifts his gaze back to you, his smile fading slightly as he leans in a little closer. “I wanted to apologize for everything—how things ended between me and her mother, the times I wasn’t there for Seyeon the way I should have been. It’s been a journey.”

You nod gently, your expression compassionate. “No need to apologize. Life happens, and we all do the best we can with what we have. You’ve clearly tried.”

There’s a long pause, the quiet hum of the café filling the space between your words. Seyeon’s light laughter bubbles up again as she tries to balance her juice box on her nose, her playful antics bringing a refreshing lift to the moment.

Seyeon suddenly pipes up, cutting through the quiet moment. “Can we get ice cream now?”

Jisung’s eyes sparkle as he glances at you. “Ice cream sounds good, doesn’t it?”

You laugh softly, nodding. “Ice cream is always a good idea.”

The ice cream stand is a lively hub of chatter and sweet aromas. Seyeon giggles as she holds her cone tightly, a swirl of pastel colors already melting down the sides and onto her small hands. Jisung grabs a handful of napkins, gently wiping her sticky fingers with a chuckle. You watch the scene with a warm smile, enjoying how natural and effortless their bond is despite the challenges Jisung hinted at earlier.

As the sun begins to set, casting a golden glow over the streets, Jisung glances over at you. “Y/n, can I talk to you for a minute?” he asks softly, nodding toward a quieter corner near a park bench.

Seyeon is too engrossed in her ice cream to notice as you nod, following Jisung to the side. His expression is serious yet gentle, the kind of look that tells you he’s been mulling over something important.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier,” he starts, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. “About struggling to find work and trying to figure things out.”

You nod, slightly apprehensive about where this is going. “It’s been tough, yeah. But I’ll figure something out eventually.”

He looks down briefly, then back up at you, his dark eyes steady. “What if you didn’t have to figure it out alone? What if you gave being Seyeon’s nanny a try? Just for a day to start. See how it feels.”

The suggestion catches you off guard. “Me? Her nanny?”

Jisung nods, his expression hopeful but measured. “She adores you already, also she basically asked you. I mean, it’s not like I’ve got a huge list of options, but even if I did… I trust you. And clearly, Seyeon does too.”

You hesitate, unsure of how to respond. “Jisung, I don’t know… I’ve never worked as a nanny before.”

He smiles softly, leaning back against the bench. “You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to care, and you already do. Plus, I’d be close by if you needed anything. My studio’s right in the area – also I would never leave you alone the first time with her only, she can be pretty pissed off the first time.”

You glance back at Seyeon, who’s sitting on a nearby bench, happily licking her ice cream and humming a tune to herself. The sight of her carefree joy tugs at your heartstrings.

“She does seem pretty attached already,” you admit with a small laugh. “But are you sure? I mean, I don’t want to step into something that’s too personal—”

“It’s not like that,” Jisung interrupts gently. “This isn’t just about convenience. I see how you are with her. She lights up around you in a way that makes me think... maybe this could work.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, weighing the idea. It’s unconventional, sure, but the sincerity in Jisung’s voice is undeniable. And the truth is, you could use the job, even if it’s temporary.

“I guess I could try it for a day,” you finally say, your voice cautious but open. “See how it goes.”

A relieved smile spreads across Jisung’s face. “That’s all I’m asking. If it doesn’t work out, no hard feelings. But…thank you, y/n. Really.”

Before you can reply, Seyeon bounces over, her ice cream cone now just a sticky napkin and a smile. “What are you guys talking about?” she asks, her big eyes darting between the two of you.

Jisung crouches down to her level, a playful grin on his face. “y/n might spend more time with us soon. Would you like that, princess?”

Seyeon gasps, her face lighting up like fireworks. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes! Please, y/nie!”

You laugh, her enthusiasm infectious. “Okay, okay, calm down. Let’s try it out first and see if you don’t get tired of me.”

“Never!” Seyeon exclaims, throwing her arms around your legs in a tight hug.

Jisung straightens up, his smile softening. “Guess we’ll figure out the details tomorrow? Her mother is out for a couple days and I have her in my apartment.”

“Yeah,” you reply, ruffling Seyeon’s hair as she clings to you. “Tomorrow.”

The three of you start walking again, the sun dipping below the horizon as the city lights flicker on. It’s not the future you imagined for yourself, but maybe—just maybe—it’s a step toward something brighter.

The next morning arrives faster than expected, and you find yourself standing outside Jisung’s apartment, clutching your bag nervously. The sleek, modern building looms above you, its pristine facade reflecting the pale morning light. You take a deep breath, adjusting your jacket as you summon the courage to ring the doorbell.

Within seconds, the door swings open, revealing Jisung, who’s already dressed in casual yet stylish clothes—a hoodie layered under a lightweight jacket, paired with black joggers – you would never tell that he’s in his 30s. His signature round glasses sit on his nose, giving him a surprisingly approachable look despite his celebrity status.

“Morning,” he greets with a warm smile. “Right on time.”

“Yeah,” you reply, forcing a small laugh. “Didn’t want to be late for my… trial run.”

Jisung chuckles, stepping aside to let you in. “Come on in. Seyeon’s been asking about you since she woke up.”

The apartment is as modern and stylish as you’d expect—minimalist furniture, neutral tones, and an impressive wall of windows that offer a panoramic view of Seoul. But despite the sleek design, there are signs of Seyeon’s presence everywhere, even if she doesn’t go there that often. A small table in the corner is covered in crayons and paper, her drawings pinned to the wall above it. A stuffed bunny sits on the couch, one of its ears slightly chewed on, and a trail of tiny sneakers leads toward her bedroom.

“She’s in her room getting dressed,” Jisung explains, closing the door behind you. “It’s her version of a fashion show, so… good luck getting her out anytime soon.”

You laugh, already feeling some of your nerves dissipate. “Sounds like a diva in the making.”

“She gets it from her mom,” Jisung says with a fond smile, though there’s a hint of sadness in his tone. Even if they are not together anymore he really loved her, things moved really slow in their relationship and after her he just had some casual hook ups around – nothing too deep. He’s scared of getting too into a relationship with someone. He clears his throat quickly, motioning toward the kitchen. “Want some coffee? I was just making a pot.”

“Sure, thanks,” you reply, following him into the open kitchen. The smell of freshly brewed coffee fills the air as Jisung pours two cups, sliding one across the counter to you.

As you sip your coffee, you decide to broach the subject that’s been on your mind. “So… how do you want this to go today? Any specific rules or routines I should know about?”

Jisung leans against the counter, his hands wrapped around his mug. “Honestly, just be yourself. Seyeon’s pretty easygoing once she warms up to someone, and she already seems to adore you. She loves arts and crafts, playing dress-up, and reading, so you’ll probably spend a lot of time doing those things.”

You nod, making mental notes. “Got it. Anything I should avoid?”

He hesitates for a moment, his expression softening. “She might bring up her mom. It’s still a sensitive topic for her, so just… be patient if she does. I try not to push her too much, but sometimes she needs to talk about it.”

“Of course,” you say, your tone reassuring. “I’ll be careful.”

Before Jisung can respond, a loud “Tada!” echoes from the hallway, and Seyeon bursts into the room, twirling in a bright pink tutu over her striped pajamas. Her hair is an adorable mess, with a sparkly headband perched crookedly on top, a grey cat following behind her. The cat’s meowing toward them and it jump on top of the iland of the kitchen, you pass the fingers through the furr.

“What do you think, y/n?” she asks, striking a dramatic pose. “Am I a princess?”

“You’re the most fabulous princess I’ve ever seen,” you reply with a grin, the little girl’s laugh fill the room, at the excited sound the cat runs away making jisung lightly giggle – his pet friend still getting used by the presence of the loud daughter.

Seyeon beams, running over to grab your hand. “Come on! Let’s play dress-up!”

Jisung laughs as she drags you toward her room, her enthusiasm infectious. “I’ll leave you two to it,” he says, shaking his head with amusement. “I’ll be in the studio if you need me, just down the hallway.”

You’re barely able to wave goodbye before Seyeon pulls you into her room—a whirlwind of color and chaos. The walls are painted a soft lavender, and every surface is covered in toys, books, and more clothes than any five-year-old could possibly wear. She immediately begins pulling out tiaras, feather boas, and glittery shoes, chattering excitedly as she explains the “rules” of dress-up.

The morning passes in a blur of laughter and imagination. You and Seyeon transform into royalty, superheroes, and even pirates, complete with cardboard swords and eye patches. Her giggles are contagious, and for a while, you forget all about your nerves or the fact that this is technically a trial job.

When lunchtime rolls around, you head back to the kitchen, where Jisung is already preparing a simple meal of sandwiches and fruit. He glances up as you enter, his face lighting up at the sight of Seyeon riding on your back like a knight on a trusty steed.

“Looks like you two are having fun,” he says, setting the plates on the table.

“The best fun ever!” Seyeon declares, sliding off your back and plopping into a chair.

You smile, taking a seat across from her. “She’s got quite the imagination.”

Jisung watches the two of you with a thoughtful expression, his gaze lingering on how naturally you interact with his daughter. As you help Seyeon with her sandwich, he leans back in his chair, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Thanks for today,” he says quietly, meeting your eyes. “I know it’s just one day, but… I think this could really work.”

You glance at Seyeon, who’s happily munching away, then back at Jisung. A sense of warmth fills your chest as you realize you’re starting to feel at home in this little corner of their world.

“Yeah,” you reply softly. “I think it could too.”

After lunch, Seyeon insists on showing you her favorite books. She pulls you into the living room, climbing onto the plush couch with a stack of brightly colored storybooks in her arms. You settle in beside her as she excitedly flips through the pages, pointing out her favorite characters and scenes.

“This one’s about a bunny who gets lost but finds his way home,” she says, holding up a book with a soft pastel cover. “Mommy reads it to me all the time.”

Her mention of her mother comes so naturally that it catches you off guard, but you remember Jisung’s advice to let Seyeon talk about it if she wants to. “It sounds like a beautiful story,” you say gently. “Would you like me to read it to you?”

Seyeon nods enthusiastically, scooting closer to you. As you read, she leans against your side, her small hand clutching your arm. By the time you finish the book, she’s curled up next to you, her eyes drooping with sleep.

Jisung steps out of his studio, his footsteps soft on the hardwood floor. He pauses when he sees the two of you on the couch, a smile spreading across his face. “She’s out, huh?”

“Almost,” you whisper, glancing down at her. “She had a big morning.”

He nods, walking over to lift her gently into his arms. She stirs slightly, mumbling something incoherent before settling against his shoulder. Jisung looks at you with a mix of gratitude and something else—something warmer, deeper.

“You’re a natural,” he says quietly as he carries Seyeon to her room.

You follow him to the hallway, leaning against the doorframe as he tucks her into bed. He moves with such care, brushing a strand of hair from her face and placing her stuffed bunny next to her. Watching him, you realize just how deeply he loves his daughter, how much he’s trying to give her the stability she needs.

When he steps back into the hallway, he closes Seyeon’s door with a soft click and turns to you. “Thanks for being so patient with her,” he says. “She’s… well, she’s been through a lot. More than a five-year-old should.”

“She’s a wonderful kid,” you reply honestly. “And she clearly adores you.”

Jisung leans against the wall, running a hand through his hair. “I just want to do right by her, you know? After the divorce… I don’t want her to feel like she’s missing out on anything.”

You nod, understanding the weight of his words. “You’re doing your best, Jisung. And it shows. She’s happy, and that’s what matters.”

He looks at you, his gaze steady. “I meant what I said earlier. I think this could work. You and Seyeon—it’s like you’ve known each other forever.”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “She’s easy to love.”

Jisung’s eyes soften. “She thinks the same about you.”

There’s a pause, a quiet moment where the weight of the conversation hangs in the air. Jisung seems to be considering something, his expression thoughtful.

“If you’re willing,” he says after a moment, “I’d like to make this more than just a trial run. I know it’s only been a day, but… I feel like this is the right fit. For her, and for you.”

Your heart skips a beat at his sincerity. “Are you sure? I mean, it’s a big responsibility.”

“I know,” he replies, his voice firm yet kind. “And I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think you could handle it. But more than that… I trust you. And so does Seyeon.”

You take a deep breath, the weight of his words settling in your chest. It’s not just a job—it’s a chance to be part of something meaningful, to help this little family heal and grow.

“Okay,” you say finally, a small smile forming. “I’ll do it.”

Jisung’s face lights up with relief and gratitude. “Thank you, y/n. Really.”

Just then, Seyeon’s soft voice calls out from her room, breaking the moment. “Daddy? Y/n?”

Jisung chuckles, pushing off the wall. “Looks like someone’s not quite asleep yet.”

You laugh, following him back to Seyeon’s room. As you step inside, you see her sitting up in bed, her bunny clutched tightly to her chest.

“Did you say yes, y/n?” she asks, her voice laced with sleepiness and hope.

You walk over to her, crouching down so you’re at eye level. “I did. Looks like you’re stuck with me.”

Seyeon’s face lights up, and she throws her arms around your neck. “Yay! I love you, y/n.”

Your heart swells at her words, and you glance up at Jisung, who’s watching with a soft smile. In that moment, you realize you’ve found something you didn’t even know you were looking for—a place where you truly belong.

The days quickly settle into a new rhythm. The mornings when Seyeon is at his apartment, you arrive at Jisung’s apartment to find Seyeon waiting for you with excitement bubbling in her tiny frame. Her favorite game is to guess what you’re wearing before you come in—a little ritual she made up—and she squeals with delight when she’s right.

“Pink sweater today! I knew it!” she announces one morning, hopping from foot to foot as you step inside.

“You’re getting too good at this,” you reply, laughing as you hang your bag by the door.

Jisung, already sipping his coffee at the kitchen counter, greets you with a relaxed smile. “She’s been talking about you since she woke up.”

“It’s mutual,” you tease, giving him a mock-serious look. “She’s got me wrapped around her little finger.”

Seyeon beams, running off to grab her crayons and sketchbook. While she sets up at the living room table, Jisung leans against the counter, his gaze warm but thoughtful.

“She really does adore you,” he says softly. “I’ve never seen her take to someone like this before.”

You shrug, a little flustered by his sincerity. “She’s easy to love.”

“So are you,” he replies without thinking, and the words hang in the air for a moment. His eyes widen slightly, as if he hadn’t meant to say it aloud, and he quickly turns back to his coffee. “I mean—uh—you’re great with her. That’s all I meant.”

You chuckle, letting him off the hook. “Relax, Jisung. I’ll take the compliment.”

As the weeks pass, your bond with Seyeon grows stronger. You spend hours doing crafts, reading stories, and exploring the nearby parks. She introduces you to her favorite playground and insists on teaching you how to climb the jungle gym, which ends with her laughing hysterically as you awkwardly navigate the narrow bars.

One evening, as you’re helping Seyeon clean up her paints after an afternoon of finger painting, she pauses and looks up at you with her big, expressive eyes.

“Y/n,” she says, her voice small and serious. “Do you think Mommy would like you?”

The question catches you off guard, and you glance over at Jisung, who’s working at the kitchen table. He’s heard her too, his posture stiffening slightly as he waits for your response.

You crouch down to Seyeon’s level, meeting her gaze. “I don’t know, sweetie,” you say honestly. “But I hope so.”

Seyeon seems to think about this for a moment, then nods as if she’s made up her mind. “I think she would. You’re nice. And you make Daddy smile.”

Your breath catches at her words, and you glance at Jisung again. He’s looking at you now, his expression unreadable but soft. There’s something unspoken in the way his gaze lingers, something that makes your heart race.

“Thank you, Seyeon,” you whisper, giving her a gentle hug. “That means a lot.”

It’s a stormy afternoon, the kind where the rain drums against the windows in a steady rhythm, casting a gray haze over the city. You’re busy tidying up Seyeon’s play area when you notice she’s unusually quiet. Normally, she’d be coloring or arranging her toys into elaborate scenes, but today, she’s sitting on the couch, hugging her stuffed bunny with a somber expression.

“Hey, sweetie,” you say gently, walking over to her. “What’s wrong? You’ve been so quiet today.”

Seyeon doesn’t answer right away. She shifts slightly, burying her face in her bunny. After a moment, she mumbles, “I want Mommy.”

The words hit you like a cold splash of water. Seyeon has mentioned missing her mom before is not a new, in these cases you would play a song for making her feel better or just asking her to do something to keep her mind away from the hard times when she is away from her mother - even for just a couple days like their divorce's papers mention. But this time, there’s a weight to her voice that makes your chest ache.

“Of course you do,” you say, crouching down to her level. “It’s okay to miss her, Seyeon.”

She finally looks up at you, her big eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Mommy and Daddy were yelling,” she says, her voice trembling. “I heard them on the phone. Mommy was crying. I don’t want to be here. I want to go home.”

You pause, your heart breaking for the little girl. It doesn’t take much to piece together what must have happened—Jisung and his ex-wife must have had an argument, and Seyeon overheard it. You don’t know the details, but it’s clear it’s left her feeling hurt and confused.

“I’m so sorry you heard that, sweetie,” you say softly. “That must have been really hard.”

Seyeon nods, her lip trembling. “It was scary. I don’t want Daddy to be mad at Mommy.”

You sit down beside her, giving her space but staying close enough that she knows you’re there. “Sometimes grown-ups get upset with each other, and they say things they don’t mean,” you explain. “But that doesn’t mean they don’t love you. Your mommy and daddy both love you so much, Seyeon. That’s the most important thing.”

“I still want Mommy,” she whispers, clutching her bunny tighter.

You’re about to respond when Jisung walks in from the hallway. He must have heard part of the conversation because his expression is filled with a mix of guilt and concern. He kneels beside you and reaches out for Seyeon, but she shrinks away, clutching her bunny even tighter.

“Seyeonnie, baby,” Jisung says softly, his voice breaking slightly. “I’m so sorry you heard that. Daddy didn’t mean to make you upset.”

Seyeon shakes her head, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. “You were mean to Mommy! I don’t want to stay here! I want her!”

The words hit Jisung hard, and you can see the pain in his eyes. He glances at you, silently asking for help.

“Seyeon,” you say gently, shifting closer to her. “It’s okay to feel upset. But maybe we can talk about it together. Would you like to tell Daddy how you’re feeling?”

She sniffles, her tiny body trembling with emotion. “I don’t want to talk to Daddy,” she says quietly. Then, looking at you, she adds, “And I don’t want to talk to you either. I just want Mommy.”

The rejection stings, but you remind yourself that this isn’t about you. It’s about Seyeon needing to process her feelings in her own way. It's a part of your current job: being able to tell when their feelings are real or just overwhelming by things around her.

Jisung sits back on his heels, running a hand through his hair. “Sweetheart, I’ll call Mommy, and we can figure out a time for you to see her soon, okay? But right now, we’re here for you. Me and y/n both.”

Seyeon doesn’t respond, turning away and curling up on the couch. Jisung looks at you again, his expression helpless.

You stand up and gently place a hand on his arm. “Let’s give her a little space,” you whisper.

He nods reluctantly, and the two of you step into the kitchen. Once you’re out of earshot, Jisung leans against the counter, his shoulders slumping. “I messed up,” he mutters. “I never should have let her hear that.”

“It’s not your fault, Jisung,” you say quietly. “These things happen. She’s just overwhelmed right now.”

He looks at you, his eyes filled with worry. “What do I do? She doesn’t even want to look at me.”

“Give her time,” you suggest. “Let her know you’re here when she’s ready to talk. And maybe call her mom—just hearing her voice might help Seyeon feel better. She will swing around jisung don't worry.”

He nods, pulling out his phone. As he dials, you glance back at the living room. Seyeon is still curled up on the couch, her bunny held close, but something tells you she’s listening.

A little later, after Jisung has arranged a call between Seyeon and her mom, you bring over a small plate of cookies and a glass of milk. You don’t say anything, just set it on the table near her and sit down in a chair a few feet away. Slowly, Seyeon uncurls, reaching for a cookie.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers after a few moments, her voice barely audible.

You smile softly, your heart aching with tenderness. “You don’t have to be sorry, sweetie. It’s okay to feel sad or mad. We all feel that way sometimes.”

Seyeon nods, nibbling on the cookie. Then, tentatively, she scoots closer to you. “Will you stay with me?”

“Of course,” you say, your voice steady and reassuring. “I’m not going anywhere.”

For now, that’s enough. And as Seyeon leans her head against your arm, you glance over at Jisung, who gives you a small, grateful smile. Together, you’ll help Seyeon through this—one step at a time.

It’s late evening when your phone buzzes with a message from Jisung. You’re already home, curled up on your couch, replaying the events of the day in your mind. You studied all day for the upcoming exams, all day in that for walls of your apartment.

Jisung: Hey, are you free tonight? Could you come over? Seyeon’s not here, but… I’d really like to talk.

You stare at the message for a moment, your heart skipping a beat. It’s unusual for him to ask for your company when Seyeon isn’t around. That makes you slightly nervous but after a moment of hesitation, you reply.

You: Sure. I’ll be there in 20. You: should I be worried?

You chew your nail lightly, three dots moving on the screen as you start to get really agitated about what could actually mean. Does he want to end up things? does he think it's not necessary for him to have a nanny?

Jisung: silly, no, just wanna talk :)

When you arrive at Jisung’s apartment, he greets you at the door, his expression a mix of relief and exhaustion. He’s dressed casually in a hoodie and sweatpants, his hair slightly disheveled, and you can tell immediately that he’s been overthinking.

“Thanks for coming,” he says softly, stepping aside to let you in.

“Of course,” you reply, setting your bag down by the door. “How’s Seyeon?”

“She’s with her mom this week, as usual,” he explains, leading you to the couch. “I thought it might be better for her to spend some time there, especially after what happened last Sunday. But she's coming tomorrow morning so, you come to work like always.”

You nod, sitting down beside him. “That makes sense. How are you holding up?”

He exhales heavily, running a hand through his hair. “Honestly? Not great. I feel like I let her down. She heard things she shouldn’t have, and now she doesn’t even want to be around me.”

“She’s a little girl, Jisung,” you say gently. “She’s still figuring out how to handle her emotions. It's not easy to be a parent and it doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you.”

He looks at you, his eyes filled with vulnerability. “I know you’re right, but it’s hard not to feel like I’m failing her. I just… I don’t know what I’m doing half the time.”

You place a reassuring hand on his arm. “No parent has it all figured out. The fact that you care so much about her shows what a great dad you are. And she knows that, even if she’s upset right now.”

Jisung leans back against the couch, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. “I’ve been thinking about that day—about how you handled everything. You were so patient with her, even when she pushed you away. You’re amazing with her, y/n.”

You feel a blush creeping up your cheeks at his words. “I just want what’s best for her. She’s a wonderful kid.”

He turns his head to look at you, his expression soft. “You’re wonderful too. I don’t know what I would’ve done today without you. Since the day we met at the zoo, everything with you seems to.. find the right place.”

There’s a long pause, the weight of his words settling between you. Finally, he sits up straighter, his brow furrowed in thought.

“Y/n, I didn’t ask you over just to vent,” he admits, his voice quieter now. “I’ve been thinking… Seyeon’s been through so much with the divorce, and I know I can’t fix everything for her. But having you around—it’s made such a difference. For her and for me.”

You blink, caught off guard by the intensity in his gaze. “Jisung…”

“I don’t just mean as her nanny,” he continues quickly, his words tumbling out. “I mean… as someone I can rely on. Someone who’s already become such an important part of our lives. I don’t want to cross any boundaries or make things weird, but—”

“You’re not,” you interrupt gently, placing a hand on his knee to calm his rambling. “I understand what you’re trying to say.”

His shoulders relax slightly, but his eyes remain fixed on yours. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that you’re more than just Seyeon’s nanny to me. And I don’t know where this could go, but I’d like to find out. If you’re willing.”

The room feels suddenly smaller, the air charged with unspoken possibilities. You take a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest, his eyes so big and soft makes you shivers.

“I care about you too, Jisung,” you admit softly. “And I care about Seyeon. I want to be here for both of you, but… we need to be careful. For her sake.”

He nods, his expression thoughtful. “I agree. She comes first, always. But I don’t want to let this—whatever this is—slip away.”

“Let’s take it one step at a time,” you say gently.

Jisung nods, relief and hope flickering in his eyes. “One step at a time,” he agrees.

The next morning, you arrive at Jisung’s apartment right on time, ready to start your day with Seyeon. As you step inside, you’re greeted by the familiar hum of activity—the soft sound of music playing from the speakers, the faint smell of coffee wafting from the kitchen, and Seyeon’s little voice drifting from her play area.

She’s sitting on the floor in her pajamas, surrounded by an army of stuffed animals. When she spots you, her face lights up in a way that makes your heart swell.

“y/n!” she exclaims, running over to you with her bunny clutched in one hand. “Look! I made a picnic for my friends!”

You crouch down to her level, admiring the intricate arrangement of plates, cups, and plastic food. “This looks amazing, Seyeon! Did you set this all up by yourself?”

She nods proudly, her curls bouncing. “Uh-huh! But you’re late, so we already ate the sandwiches.”

You gasp playfully. “Oh no! I missed the sandwiches? What am I going to eat now?”

Seyeon giggles, pulling you by the hand to sit down with her. “You can have dessert! We have cake and cookies.”

Jisung walks in at that moment, a mug of coffee in his hand. He leans against the doorway, watching the two of you with a soft smile. “Looks like you’ve been invited to the fanciest picnic in town,” he teases.

A blush spread on your face, remembering about the conversation that you had with Jisung the night before, “Only the best for me,” you reply with a grin, pretending to nibble on an invisible cookie. Seyeon bursts into another fit of giggles, clearly delighted by the attention.

The morning passes in a blur of laughter and playtime. You and Seyeon build a towering castle out of blocks, only for her to gleefully knock it down moments later. She insists on showing you her latest drawings, and you listen intently as she explains the story behind each one.

But it’s during her naptime that the moment when jisung is casually off work on his productions session.. After reading her favourite bedtime story, you tuck her in, smoothing the blanket over her small frame. Her eyes are heavy with sleep, but just as you’re about to leave, she reaches out and grabs your hand.

“y/n?” she whispers, her voice small and drowsy.

“Yes, sweetie?”

She hesitates for a moment before speaking. “Do you think Daddy loves Mommy still?”

The question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you’re at a loss for words. You kneel down beside her bed, meeting her wide, searching eyes.

“I think your daddy loves you more than anything in the whole world,” you say gently. “And sometimes, grown-ups love each other in different ways. But no matter what, he and your mommy will always work together to make sure you’re happy and loved.”

She seems to mull over your words, her eyelids fluttering as sleep begins to take over. “Do you love Daddy?” she mumbles, her words slurring slightly.

Your breath catches in your throat. “I think your daddy is a very special person,” you say carefully. “And I’m really happy I get to spend time with you and him.”

Seyeon hums in acknowledgment, her grip on your hand loosening as she finally drifts off. You sit there for a moment longer, brushing a stray curl from her forehead before quietly slipping out of the room. The realisation hits hard, she asked you a question that really makes you in difficulty, your hands are lightly sweaty after the careful words that you let hanging in her room.

You walk out closing the door behind you, as you’re cleaning up in the living room, Jisung comes in from his studio. He’s wearing his headphones around his neck and looks a little more relaxed than he did yesterday.

“She’s asleep?” he asks, leaning against the couch.

“Out like a light,” you reply with a smile. “She was so busy today, she didn’t stand a chance.”

Jisung chuckles, his eyes softening. “Thank you for being so patient with her. I know she can be a handful sometimes.”

“She’s a sweetheart,” you say, brushing off his praise. “And she adores you, Jisung. You’re doing a great job, even if it doesn’t always feel like it.”

There’s a pause, the air between you warm and comfortable. Jisung sits down beside you, his gaze flickering to the kitchen before settling back on you.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said yesterday,” he starts, his voice quieter now. “About taking things one step at a time. I just want you to know how much it means to me that you’re here. Not just for Seyeon, but for me too.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, and you feel a blush creeping up your neck. “I’m happy to be here,” you admit softly.

The days pass, and your bond with Seyeon—and with Jisung—deepens. Seyeon grows more comfortable around you, often seeking you out for everything from help with her drawings to impromptu dance performances in the living room. Jisung, in turn, seems to relax more in your presence, his usual walls lowering bit by bit.

One afternoon, after a particularly lively dance session with Seyeon that left you both giggling on the carpet, Jisung calls you into the kitchen. He’s preparing a snack for Seyeon, but the way he keeps glancing at you suggests he has something on his mind.

“y/n, can we talk for a second?” he asks, his voice cautious but kind.

“Of course,” you reply, leaning against the counter. “What’s up?”

He sets down the knife he’s been using to slice fruit and turns to face you fully. “I’ve been thinking about how much things have changed since you started working with us. You’ve brought so much stability into Seyeon’s life. And mine.”

You feel a mix of pride and nervousness at his words. “I’m glad I’ve been able to help,” you say sincerely. “She’s such a special little girl. And you’re doing an amazing job as her dad.”

“I know we agreed to take things slow,” he continues, his gaze steady but vulnerable. “But I can’t ignore how much you mean to both of us. I care about you, y/n. A lot. And I want to know if you feel the same.”

For a moment, the room feels impossibly still. Then, you nod, a small, shy smile spreading across your face.

“I do, Jisung,” you admit. “But I’ve been trying to be careful—for Seyeon’s sake.”

He nods, his expression softening. “I know. And I appreciate that more than you know. I just… I don’t want to let this slip away. I want us to figure this out—together.”

Before you can respond, a small voice interrupts from the doorway.

“Daddy?”

Both of you turn to see Seyeon standing there, her bunny clutched to her chest. Her hair is a little messy from her earlier playtime, and her wide eyes dart between the two of you.

“Hey, sweet cheeks,” Jisung says gently, crouching down to her level. “What’s wrong?”

Seyeon hesitates, then shuffles over to him. “Can y/n stay for dinner? And maybe… can we all watch a movie after?" The innocence of her request tugs at your heart, and Jisung glances up at you with a smile.

“What do you say?” he asks.

You kneel down beside them, matching Seyeon’s level. “I’d love to stay. But only if I get to pick the movie,” you tease, earning a giggle from the little girl.

As Seyeon throws her arms around both of you, pulling you into a spontaneous group hug, you realize how much this little family means to you—and how much you’re starting to mean to them.

Dinner that evening feels warm and lively, the kind of atmosphere that wraps around you like a cozy blanket. Jisung insists on cooking, and though the meal is simple—grilled cheese sandwiches with tomato soup—it feels perfect. Seyeon sits at the table, swinging her legs beneath her chair as she chatters about her favorite animals and what movie she thinks you should all watch.

“I think we should watch Moana!” Seyeon declares, her cheeks puffing as she takes a bite of her sandwich.

Jisung raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t we just watch that last weekend?”

“But y/n hasn’t watched it with us!” Seyeon protests, her pout making you chuckle.

“I’d love to watch Moana,” you say, playfully nudging her. “But only if you promise to sing the songs with me.”

Her face lights up, and she practically bounces in her seat. “Okay! I’ll sing the Maui parts, and you can be Moana!”

Jisung laughs, shaking his head. “Guess I’m stuck being the chicken, huh?”

Seyeon giggles, and the sound fills the room, light and contagious. You catch Jisung’s eye across the table, and for a moment, the two of you share a look—one that feels like a silent agreement, a shared understanding that this little moment is something special.

After dinner, you all settle into the living room. Seyeon grabs her favorite blanket and curls up between you and Jisung on the couch. The lights are dimmed, the opening scene of Moana playing on the TV.

Seyeon sings along enthusiastically, her little voice bright and unrestrained. You join in at her insistence, your laughter mingling with hers as you both belt out the lyrics. Jisung, true to his word, adds exaggerated squawks whenever Hei Hei, the chicken, is on screen, earning peals of laughter from his daughter.

At one point, Seyeon leans her head against your arm, her tiny hand resting on your lap. The gesture is small but significant, and you feel a lump forming in your throat. When you glance over at Jisung, you notice he’s watching the two of you with a soft expression, his smile tinged with something deeper. His hand moves over your shoulder behind the couch, tracing pattern on your skin; shivers running down your spine.

As the movie progresses, Seyeon’s energy begins to wane. By the time Moana reaches Te Fiti, she’s fast asleep, her head now resting on your shoulder. You glance down at her peaceful face, her bunny tucked securely in her arms.

“She’s out,” you whisper, careful not to wake her.

Jisung nods, a fond smile on his lips. “She had a big day. And I think all that singing wore her out.”

You laugh softly, shifting slightly to make sure Seyeon is comfortable. “Do you want me to move her to her bed?”

Jisung shakes his head. “No, let her stay for a bit. She looks comfortable.”

For a while, the two of you sit in companionable silence, the credits of the movie rolling on the screen. Seyeon’s gentle breathing fills the room, a steady rhythm that feels grounding.

“Thank you for staying tonight,” Jisung says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You look over at him, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the TV. “I’m happy to be here,” you reply honestly.

Jisung hesitates for a moment before reaching out, his hand brushing against yours on the couch. The touch is light, tentative, but it sends a wave of warmth through you. When you don’t pull away, he intertwines his fingers with yours, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

You smile at him, your heart full as you glance down at Seyeon. In this moment, surrounded by quiet warmth and the soft hum of contentment, you feel like you’ve found a place where you truly belong.

Jisung carefully scoops Seyeon into his arms, her bunny still clutched tightly to her chest. She stirs slightly but doesn’t wake, her little face peaceful as she nestles closer to her father. He glances at you with a small smile before carrying her to her room.

You stay on the couch, tidying up the throw blankets and pillows, unsure if you should take your leave or wait for him to return. The quiet hum of the apartment makes you feel strangely calm, and yet, there’s a nervous energy lingering in the air.

A few minutes later, Jisung emerges from Seyeon’s room, shutting the door softly behind him. He looks tired but content, his hands resting on his hips as he walks back toward you.

“Is she okay?” you ask softly.

“Out like a light,” he replies with a chuckle, running a hand through his hair. “She didn’t even let go of that bunny.”

You smile, standing up and grabbing your bag. “Well, I should probably get going. It’s getting late.”

Jisung’s expression shifts slightly, a mix of hesitation and something deeper flashing across his face. “Wait,” he says, his voice quiet but urgent. “Can you… stay a little longer? Just me and you?”

His request catches you off guard, and for a moment, you’re unsure how to respond. But the trill of being alone with him keeps you rooted in place.

“Okay,” you say softly, setting your bag back down. “I can stay.”

The room feels quieter, the hum of conversation and laughter from earlier fading into a gentle stillness. Jisung steps closer, his gaze searching yours, as if trying to find the words that have been building between you both. His hand brushes against yours lightly, a soft touch that lingers a moment too long to be innocent.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice a whisper against the space between you. There’s a hesitation in his eyes, a vulnerability that pulls at your heart. You feel an electric spark, a tender moment that feels like it belongs only to you both.

“You didn’t have to ask,” you respond quietly, the warmth of his touch igniting a fire within you. “I wanted to stay.”

He smiles faintly, his lips parting just slightly as if savoring the words you’ve given him. The air shifts, thick with unspoken desires and a quiet understanding that needs no elaboration. Your heart beats faster, anticipation making every breath feel heavier.

“Good,” he says simply, his voice smooth and low, a melody in itself. His hand slides fully into yours, fingers intertwining in a way that feels natural, almost inevitable. “Just you and me.”

Jisung move even closer, the space between you vanishing as his confidence grows. His gaze doesn’t waver, his eyes holding yours with a quiet intensity that sends shivers down your spine. Without a word, he lifts a hand, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch lingering just a little longer than necessary.

“Are you sure?” he asks softly, his voice a low, husky whisper that sends a thrill through you. His breath brushes against your skin, warm and inviting. “Because I don’t want to rush this.”

You nod gently, heart fluttering as your fingers tighten around his. The world around you feels distant, every sense focused solely on him—on the way he looks at you, the way his presence consumes the room. His smile deepens, a playful glint lighting up his expression as he leans in just a bit more, the space between you almost nonexistent.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” he murmurs, his lips a breath away from yours. “I don’t want to waste another second.”

Your breath catches, the heat in the room intensifying. His gaze is captivating, his touch electric, and the way he holds you makes every moment feel like something sacred. You tilt your head slightly, allowing him to close the distance. His lips press softly against yours, a tender kiss that speaks of patience and desire—a perfect balance of softness and passion. His lips barely brushing against yours. He can feel you gasp slightly at the sudden action, but he holds your chin with one hand and keeps you close, prolonging the kiss for a few more seconds before pulling away, a smirk on his face. "Not so talkative now, are we?"

You giggles, blushing in face as you cover your mouth a little, "you just kissed me! what you wanted me to say? kiss me more?"

His smirk grows bigger, "that doesn't sounds so bad-" you grabs lightly the sides of his hoodie, clenching your fingers as you is breathless. Pulling him for another kiss, he lets out a small gasp of surprise, but then melts into the kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer. His arms wrapping around your waist, bringing you flush against his body. This time the kiss is more intense, deeper, hungrier.

You ends up on his lap, straddling it and his hands vanishing on your curves, the arch of your back to groping your ass gently, his hands makes you shivers.

A little gasp leaving your lips when his fingers digs on your rear, "u-uhm jisung.." you mumble, your lips for how badly you want to move away to stop the passionate moments, they keeps asking for more from jisung.

“Hm?” He hums as his tongue brushes against your bottom lip, his so needy, so messy, and you’re loving every second of it, even if you cannot stop thinking about his daughter being just in the room down the hallway. 

You move your lips apart letting his tongue meeting his in need, his hands pressing down your hips against his lap, you can feel his hardness through his clothes and it’s so damn sexy that your pussy start to pulse. “Seyeon.. she might.. wake up..”

Gasps between kisses, your lips are locked with him as he suck gently your tongue making you moan under your breath, he’s such a good kisser.

Before either of you can say more, the sound of a tiny voice cuts through the moment.

“Daddy! I need you!”

Seyeon’s voice, muffled but unmistakable, drifts out from her bedroom down the hall.

Both of you freeze in place, eyes wide and suddenly aware of the situation, you’re still on his lap, he’s still hard as hell and his hands are holding your ass.

“Oh no,” Jisung mutters, glancing toward her room. “Not now.”

You giggle softly, a nervous laugh that’s quickly overtaken by a chuckle. “You have to go,” you whisper, trying to hold back the laughter bubbling up. “She’s calling for you.”

Jisung groans dramatically, squeezing his eyes shut for a second before shaking his head. “She couldn’t have waited just five more minutes?”

“I think those five minutes would’ve take us in another situation,” you respond with a smirk, you move from his lap, standing up and fixing your clothes at the best. “Duty calls.”

He sighs, turning toward her room. “I’ll be right there, sweet cheeks!”

You make a beeline for the front door, grabbing your bag in a hurry, trying to stifle your laughter as you hear Seyeon giggling softly through the wall.

You poke your head back into the living room just as Jisung kneels beside her bed, trying his best to soothe her back to sleep. His expression is slightly flustered, and you can’t help but laugh one last time at the sheer comical timing.

“Goodnight, Jisung!” you call out with a wink. “Good luck!”

“Thanks,” he replies with a sheepish grin, though his voice carries a touch of relief when you finally step out the door.

As the door clicks shut behind you, the sound of Seyeon’s laughter and Jisung’s soothing voice floats into the night, and you can’t stop the grin that spreads across your face.

Maybe next time, there will be fewer interruptions. But for tonight, the memory of that unexpected moment will stay with you.

It’s been almost seven months that you work for Jisung, since that day at the zoo you’re life almost switched. You passed almost every day waiting for the Saturday morning to see that little girl and her, very hot, daddy. Dawns with a quiet stillness in Jisung’s apartment. You arrive early to find Seyeon still curled up in bed, her little face flushed with fever and her bunny clutched tightly in her arms. Her soft coughs echo through the room, and it’s clear she’s not feeling her usual energetic self.

He told you by text that she was not feeling very well but the mother had to go on a business trip and she had to crash at his place for the rest of the weekend. Jisung is already in the kitchen, his own expression worn with worry, a damp towel pressed to his forehead. His hair is slightly messy, and his usually sharp eyes are dulled with fatigue. He turns when he hears your footsteps, his smile tired but appreciative.

“Good morning,” he greets you softly. “Sorry you had to see me like this.”

You step into the kitchen and take the towel from his hand, gently replacing it with a fresh one. “You look worse than Seyeon,” you tease lightly, though your concern is genuine. “Are you okay?”

He chuckles weakly, leaning against the counter. “Not exactly the most glamorous morning, huh?”

“No, but someone has to be the adult,” you say with a grin, though you glance over at Seyeon with a frown. “Let me handle her. You rest.”

“I would kiss you if I could,” He pout lightly toward you, almost playfully trying to steal a breif kiss from your lips.

Your giggles making him feel lightly better, “Don’t even try.”

Jisung sighs, grateful for your presence, and moves toward the couch. He collapses onto it with a sigh, his breathing steady but slow, clearly feeling the effects of whatever sickness has taken hold of both him and his daughter.

You walk softly into Seyeon’s room, pulling back the curtains to let the morning light in gently. She blinks up at you, her little face pale but her bright eyes still wide with curiosity.

“Hi, sweet cheeks,” you murmur, sitting down beside her bed. “How are you feeling?”

She sniffles, hugging her bunny tighter. “Daddy’s not feeling good either.”

You glance toward the living room, where Jisung lies sprawled out, looking almost worse than she does. “Yeah, well, Daddy might need some extra care too.” You ruffle her hair gently, trying to lift her spirits. “Let’s get you some breakfast, okay?”

Seyeon nods softly, her tiny hand wrapping around yours as you help her sit up. Her fever is still high, but her energy, though subdued, is still there. You prepare a light breakfast—warm soup, soft toast, and water—and sit with her at the dining table.

Meanwhile, Jisung has managed to find the strength to make his way to the kitchen, his movements slow but determined. He leans against the doorway, watching you with a quiet admiration, a small smile touching his lips as you care for his daughter.

“You don’t have to do all this,” he says softly, his voice hoarse from his own illness.

You glance up, offering him a reassuring smile. “You’re not alone in this, Jisung. She needs both of you right now.”

He breathes out a sigh, his shoulders relaxing at your words. “Thank you, y/n. For everything.”

“It’s what friends do,” you reply, though your heart aches a little at how fragile the moment feels. Taking care of them both—so sick and vulnerable—is more than just a task. It feels personal. It feels like family.

Also the fact that you called him ‘friend’ makes a fool out of you.

As the day stretches on, you find yourself handling both Jisung and Seyeon with gentle care, managing meals, administering medicine, and even tucking them into bed for naps. They may be ill, but there’s a quiet warmth that fills the apartment, a sense of support and togetherness that feels like a foundation for something more.

When the evening arrives, Seyeon is finally asleep in her room, and Jisung, though still weak, sits upright on the couch. You’re back in the kitchen, making tea for the both of you, the space calming and steady amidst the chaos of the day.

Jisung watches you from the doorway again, his eyes filled with gratitude and something softer—something you recognize as something deeper.

“y/n,” he starts softly, “You didn’t have to stay this long.”

You glance over your shoulder with a small smile. “I wanted to. And I’ll stay as long as you both need me.”

He nods, his expression thoughtful, and then softly says, “You’re incredible.”

You shake your head, pouring the tea. “Not really. Just doing what anyone would.”

But deep down, you know that’s not true. What you’re doing is more than just helping. It’s being there, fully present in a way that neither Jisung nor Seyeon seem to take for granted. And as you set the tea in front of him, watching him take a slow sip, you realize that even amidst sickness, something beautiful is quietly blooming between the three of you.

The evening has settled in a quiet calm after the whirlwind of the day. Seyeon is tucked into her bed, her fever finally lowering thanks to the care and attention she received. You sit beside Jisung on the couch, his body still warm, though not as feverish as earlier.

“I should probably get going soon,” you say softly, your voice gentle as you glance toward him. “You need rest too.”

Jisung leans back against the couch cushions, his eyes closing for a moment. “Just... a little longer,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse. “Please?”

You hesitate, he looks so exhausted, so desperately in need of comfort, that you can’t bring yourself to leave just yet. “Okay,” you whisper, settling beside him on his bed again. “Just for a bit.”

His room is quite big for the apartment that he has, he has a beautiful window that gives the view to the city, a walk-in wardrobe that you can bet filled with crazy outfits that he used for his idol’s life, so many guitars on the wall. And a picture of him, his little girl and probably the ex-wife under a cottage, he’s playing the guitar looking lovely at the mother of Seyeon with her on her lap – they look so.. happy to you.

He lets out a breath, visibly relaxing as you stay close. The warmth of your presence is grounding for him, a welcome relief from the chaos of the past few days.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, his voice softer than before. “For everything.”

You reach out instinctively, brushing a hand against his forehead to check his temperature again. “Still a bit warm,” you note, though it’s not dangerously high anymore. “But at least your fever’s coming down.”

Jisung hums in agreement, his hand instinctively finding yours. His fingers lace with yours, squeezing gently as if grounding himself in your touch. He doesn’t let go this time, his grip tightening ever so slightly as he leans into you, his head resting on your shoulder.

“It’s nice,” he murmurs softly. “Having you here.”

The simple admission surprises you, but it doesn’t feel awkward or forced. Instead, it feels natural, like two people seeking comfort in each other’s presence without the need for words.

You smile softly, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The silence stretches for a few moments, the world outside fading into the background. You run your fingers through his hair absentmindedly, soothing him in a way that feels effortless. His breathing slows, the warmth of his body against yours steadying with each passing second.

“Stay with me tonight?” His voice is barely above a whisper, but the request is clear.

Your heart skips a beat, and though you’d considered leaving earlier, now the thought feels impossible. The tender moment shared between you, his vulnerability, the way he clings to you… it creates a sense of intimacy that feels more profound than anything you’ve experienced before.

“What if Seyeon finds out that I am here? I don’t want to hurt her,” you answer softly.

His arms moves around your waist, pulling you to sit on his lap, your hands still between his curls as his sick eyes find yours, “she doesn’t have to know, we will tell her that you came earlier than usual.”

His grip tightens just a little more. You lay back with him, your arm draped around his waist, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips.

It’s quiet again, except for the occasional sound of his breathing slowing into a peaceful rhythm. You stay like that, cradling him in your care, the weight of the moment grounding and beautiful.

Jisung shifts slightly, his body instinctively seeking more comfort in the warmth of your presence. His head dips, and before you realize it, he’s nestled against your chest, his cheek pressed to the soft fabric of your shirt. His breathing is steady but heavy with exhaustion, the fever leaving him unusually vulnerable.

You stiffen for a moment, caught off guard by the intimacy of the gesture. But when you glance down and see his peaceful expression—eyes closed, lips slightly parted, his lashes casting delicate shadows against his flushed cheeks—you feel your heart soften.

“Jisung,” you whisper gently, brushing your fingers through his hair to see if his fever has spiked again. His temperature is still warm but manageable, the worst of it seemingly passed for now.

Instead of waking, he hums softly, his hand gripping the fabric of your shirt as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go. The gesture tugs at your heartstrings, his vulnerability clear in the way he clings to you, seeking solace even in his sleep.

You sigh softly, wrapping your arms around him with a tenderness you didn’t know you could offer so easily. “You’re really something else,” you murmur, your lips curving into a gentle smile as you stroke his hair rhythmically.

His breathing evens out further, and the weight of his body against yours becomes a grounding comfort. As the moments pass, you lean your head back against the pillow, letting the quiet intimacy of the situation settle over you.

It’s not what you expected when you agreed to stay, but now, with Jisung pressed close, his warmth radiating against you, it feels like exactly where you’re meant to be. You close your eyes, resting your chin lightly on the top of his head, and let the stillness carry you both into a rare and cherished peace.

The first rays of sunlight seep through the curtains, casting a soft golden glow over the room. You stir slightly, the ache in your back and the unfamiliar weight on your chest bringing you back to consciousness. Blinking a few times, you glance down and freeze.

Jisung is still draped over you, his head nestled against your chest, his arms loosely wrapped around your waist. His soft, even breaths tickle your skin, and his tousled hair brushes against your chin. It’s a startlingly intimate position, and your cheeks flush as the reality of the situation sets in.

You try to move subtly, hoping not to wake him, but the slight shift causes him to stir. He groans softly, his face nuzzling against you like a contented cat seeking more warmth.

“Jisung,” you whisper, your voice a mix of exasperation and embarrassment. “You’re… still on top of me.”

He hums in response, clearly not fully awake. “Hmm… comfy,” he mutters, his voice muffled against you.

You suppress a laugh, shaking your head as you gently pat his shoulder. “Come on, sleepyhead. You’re crushing me.”

His eyes flutter open slowly, his gaze hazy and unfocused as he registers where he is—and more importantly, where you are. His face turns crimson in an instant, and he bolts upright, his disheveled hair only adding to the hilarity of the moment.

“Oh my God,” he blurts out, his voice hoarse with lingering sleep. “I—I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

You sit up too, waving a hand to stop him before he spirals into full-blown panic. “It’s fine, Jisung. You were sick, and we must’ve fallen asleep like that.”

He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, his ears still red. “Still… I should’ve been more aware. That’s so—”

“Unexpected? Sure. But it’s not the end of the world,” you interrupt, giving him a teasing grin. “Besides, you were pretty cute all snuggled up like that.”

His jaw drops slightly, and he stares at you, completely flustered. “Cute?! I—no—I mean—”

You laugh, the sound breaking through the awkward tension. “Relax, Jisung. It’s not a big deal.”

Just then, a small voice calls out from down the hall.

“Daddy? Where are you?”

The two of you exchange wide-eyed looks before scrambling off the bed. Jisung fumbles to fix his hair and grab his hoodie while you quickly smooth down your clothes, both of you rushing to look presentable.

“I’ll get her,” Jisung says, his voice still tinged with embarrassment, as he heads out of the room.

As you follow him, you can’t help but smile at the ridiculousness of the situation. Despite the awkwardness, there’s an undeniable warmth that lingers between you—a connection that feels stronger than before. And as Seyeon’s giggles echo through the apartment, you realize that, awkward or not, this is exactly where you want to be.

As Jisung steps into the hallway, he quickly motions for you to follow him into the living room. His expression is one of barely concealed panic.

"Okay but," he whispers, running a hand through his messy hair. "We need a story. Seyeon can’t know we both slept in my room. She’ll definitely tell her mom, and... yeah, let’s avoid that."

You stifle a laugh, appreciating the sheer absurdity of the situation. “Alright, what’s the plan?”

Jisung glances toward Seyeon’s room, where her little voice is calling out again, a clear mix of curiosity and impatience. He thinks for a moment before his eyes light up. “We’ll say you arrived really early to check on her, and I was still half-asleep when you got here.”

You arch an eyebrow. “Half-asleep and on top of me?”

He groans, his ears turning red. “Details she doesn’t need to know!” He waves his hands, flustered. “Just... sit on the couch and act like you just got here. I’ll handle the rest.”

Rolling your eyes but unable to resist the humor of the moment, you grab your bag from where it had been discarded the night before and plop yourself on the couch. You pull out your phone to make it look like you’ve been sitting there for a while.

“Daddy?” Seyeon’s voice is louder now as she pads into the living room in her pajamas, her bunny clutched in her arms. Her sleepy eyes widen slightly when she spots you. “y/nie! You’re here!”

You give her a warm smile, waving as if this is the most normal morning ever. “Morning, sweet cheeks. I came early to check on you and Daddy. How are you feeling?”

Seyeon blinks at you, her expression curious. “But I didn’t hear the doorbell…”

Jisung swoops in at that exact moment, his hoodie slightly askew and his hair still a mess. “That’s because Daddy let y/n in while you were still asleep, princess,” he says smoothly, crouching down to give her a hug. “She wanted to make sure you were feeling better.”

Seyeon narrows her eyes at him suspiciously, her tiny hands on her hips. “Why is your hair so messy, Daddy?”

Jisung freezes for a split second before letting out an overly dramatic yawn. “Oh, that’s because I just woke up too! I was soooo tired after yesterday, remember?” He ruffles her hair playfully, distracting her as he stands. “But look at you—still the cutest little bean even when you’re sick.”

Seyeon giggles, her suspicions forgotten for the moment as she climbs onto the couch beside you. “Are you gonna stay with us today, y/n?”

You glance at Jisung, who gives you a grateful look over Seyeon’s head. “Of course,” you reply with a smile, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You and Daddy need someone to take care of you, don’t you?”

Seyeon nods eagerly, her little hands clutching yours. “Yes! Daddy is really bad at making soup.”

“Hey!” Jisung protests, but his playful tone makes you laugh.

As the three of you settle into the morning routine, the chaos of the earlier situation melts away. Jisung catches your eye every now and then, a mix of gratitude and amusement in his expression. And though the morning started with a flurry of awkwardness and quick thinking, it’s clear that neither of you would trade this for anything.

“y/n,” she says after a moment, her little voice breaking the quiet. “Do you know how to make pancakes?”

You glance over your shoulder with a smile. “I do, but I think soup is better for you today, sweet cheeks. Pancakes can wait until you’re all better.”

Seyeon pouts, but it’s short-lived as Jisung shuffles in, still looking half-asleep despite his attempt to pull himself together. He leans against the counter, his hoodie slightly crooked, and watches you with a soft, almost shy smile.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” he murmurs as you stir the soup.

You wave him off. “I told you, you’re both sick. Somebody has to take care of you.”

Seyeon pipes up from the table. “y/n is the best at taking care of people, Daddy. You should hire her forever!”

Jisung chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “We’ll see, princess. For now, I think we’re lucky she’s here at all.”

You finish the soup and serve it up, sitting beside Seyeon to make sure she eats slowly. She chatters between spoonfuls, her energy already bouncing back, though she still has a telltale flush on her cheeks from the fever.

After breakfast, Jisung retreats to the couch, looking utterly exhausted but refusing to admit it. You catch him trying to sit up and work on his laptop, which you promptly take away from him.

“Absolutely not,” you scold, folding your arms. “Back to bed, Mr. Producer. You’re supposed to be resting, not working.”

“But—”

“No buts.” You place your hands on your hips, glaring down at him. “You’re lucky I don’t confiscate your phone too.”

Seyeon comes from behind her legs with a smirk and a playful voice, “ohoh, Daddy’s in trouble.”

Jisung gives you a sheepish smile, holding his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright. You win.”

He stands, but his movements are sluggish, his fever still lingering. You guide him back to his bedroom, where he collapses onto the bed with a dramatic groan.

“This feels like a punishment,” he grumbles, though there’s no real bite in his tone.

“It’s for your own good,” you reply, pulling the blanket over him. “Now stay put.”

As you turn to leave, he reaches out, his fingers lightly catching your wrist. “y/n,” he says softly, his voice tinged with vulnerability. “Thank you. Really.”

You smile down at him, your heart softening at the sight of his tired but grateful expression. “Get some rest, Jisung. That’s all the thanks I need.”

When you leave the room, you find Seyeon curled up on the couch, already half-asleep with her bunny tucked under her chin. You drape a blanket over her and settle into the armchair nearby, the apartment finally quiet and peaceful.

The rest of the day passes quietly, with Seyeon resting on the couch and Jisung finally succumbing to sleep in his room. You tidy up the kitchen, check on both of them periodically, and eventually find a moment to sit and relax yourself. As you scroll absentmindedly on your phone, a text notification pops up.

Jisung: Hey. Are you still here, or did you head out while I was knocked out?

You smile, shaking your head as you type back.

You: Still here. Seyeon’s asleep on the couch. I’ll head out soon.

A minute later, another text buzzes in.

Jisung: You’ve been amazing today. Seriously, I don’t even know how to thank you.

You: I told you, no thanks needed. Just get better, both of you.

There’s a longer pause this time, and you wonder if he’s fallen asleep again. But then your phone buzzes once more.

Jisung: What if I wanted to thank you by taking you out? Like... on a date.

Your heart skips a beat, your thumb hovering over the keyboard as you reread the message. Is he serious? Judging by the second text that quickly follows, he’s just as nervous as you are.

Jisung: Unless that’s weird. Is that weird? I feel like I’m making this weird. Forget I said anything.

You can’t help but laugh, imagining his flustered expression.

You: It’s not weird. I’d like that.

The three dots indicating his reply appear almost immediately.

Jisung: Really? Okay. Great. When?

You glance toward the couch where Seyeon is still snoozing and back at your phone.

You: Let’s wait until you’re fully recovered, okay? I don’t want to be on a date with a guy who can’t keep his head up.

Jisung: Fair point. But it’s a deal. As soon as I’m better.

A week later, Jisung texts you with a time and location. He insists on keeping it a surprise, though he assures you it won’t be anything too fancy. When the evening arrives, you find yourself standing outside a cozy, tucked-away bistro in Seoul. The warm glow of fairy lights strung above the outdoor seating area adds a touch of magic to the atmosphere.

Jisung is already waiting for you, looking much healthier—and much more nervous. He’s dressed casually but thoughtfully, his hoodie swapped for a well-fitted sweater and jeans. His smile when he spots you is enough to make your heart skip.

“You look amazing,” he says, his eyes softening as he takes you in.

“Thanks,” you reply, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “You look pretty great yourself.”

He opens the door for you, leading you inside where the smell of freshly baked bread and herbs fills the air. The restaurant is intimate, with only a handful of tables and soft jazz playing in the background.

As you and Jisung settle at your table, the restaurant's warm ambiance makes you feel at ease. A candle flickers between you, its soft glow casting gentle shadows across his face. He looks relaxed, his posture leaning slightly forward as he glances at the menu.

“This place is beautiful,” you remark, taking in the quaint decor—exposed brick walls, wooden beams, and vintage artwork.

Jisung smiles, his eyes flickering up to meet yours. “I thought you’d like it. It’s one of my favorite spots, but I haven’t had a reason to come here in a while.”

A waiter arrives, pouring water into delicate glasses and handing you menus. Jisung grins as he watches you scan the options. “What are you thinking of getting?”

“Hm, probably the pasta,” you say, biting your lip as you deliberate. “What about you?”

“The steak,” he says without hesitation, then chuckles. “Seyeon would roll her eyes if she saw me order it. She keeps trying to convince me to go vegetarian.”

You laugh at the thought. “She’s quite the little advocate. How’s that going for you?”

“Let’s just say I’ve perfected the art of sneaking bacon into my meals when she’s not looking,” he admits with a mischievous grin.

You’re both laughing when the waiter returns to take your orders, and as the night unfolds, the conversation deepens.

Jisung leans on his hand, watching you with a softness that makes your cheeks warm. “So, what made you want to work with kids?”

You shrug, swirling your water glass idly. “I’ve always liked working with kids. They’re honest in a way adults sometimes aren’t, you know? And they remind me to find joy in little things.”

His gaze doesn’t waver, and for a moment, you feel a little self-conscious under his attention. “That’s exactly what Seyeon needed,” he says. “She’s been through so much for someone her age, and I’ve worried about her losing that joy. You’ve brought it back.”

You smile softly. “She’s a great kid, Jisung. You’ve done an amazing job with her.”

He shakes his head, his expression a mix of humility and gratitude. “I’ve tried, but there’s always this part of me that worries I’m not enough for her. Especially with everything between her mom and me.”

The vulnerability in his voice tugs at your heart. “You’re more than enough. Seyeon adores you. And the fact that you care so much says everything.”

He looks at you for a long moment, then smiles, a quiet kind of relief in his eyes.

The dishes arrive, breaking the tender atmosphere, and you both dive into your meals. The food is incredible, and the easy banter resumes. Jisung insists you try a bite of his steak, holding a piece out on his fork with an exaggerated flourish.

“Fine,” you say, laughing as you lean forward to take it. The steak practically melts in your mouth. “Okay, that’s ridiculously good.”

“Told you,” he says with a wink, taking a triumphant bite.

You share stories from your past, from embarrassing childhood moments to your favorite memories, and Jisung counters with tales from his idol days.

“Wait, you seriously tripped on stage during a live broadcast?” you ask, trying and failing to hold back your laughter.

“Oh, not just tripped,” he says, groaning dramatically. “I wiped out. Full face-plant. The members wouldn’t let me live it down for months.”

By the time dessert rolls around—an indulgent chocolate lava cake you decide to split—you feel like you’ve known him forever.

“Okay, honest question,” Jisung says, wiping a bit of chocolate from the corner of his mouth. “If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?”

You think for a moment before answering. “Somewhere quiet, with a lot of nature. Maybe near the ocean. What about you?”

He pauses, his gaze thoughtful. “Honestly? Wherever Seyeon is. She’s my world.” Then, after a beat, he adds, “But having someone like you there wouldn’t hurt either.”

The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, and you feel your cheeks heat again.

The conversation lingers even after the plates are cleared, neither of you in a hurry to end the night. When the check arrives, Jisung snatches it before you can protest, giving you a playful glare.

“Don’t even try,” he says. “This is my treat.”

By the time dinner is over, the warmth between you feels almost tangible. Jisung insists on walking you home, the cool night air brushing against your skin as you stroll side by side.

When you reach your door, he hesitates, his hands tucked into his pockets. “I had a really great time tonight,” he says, his voice soft.

“Me too,” you reply, smiling up at him.

There’s a brief pause, and then he steps closer, his gaze flicking to your lips.  “Is it okay if I—”

Before he can finish the question, you lean in, closing the distance. His lips are warm and soft against yours, the kiss sweet and unhurried, a perfect culmination of the night.

When you pull back, his cheeks are pink, but the smile on his face is radiant.

“Goodnight, y/n,” he murmurs, his voice full of promise.

“Goodnight, Jisung,” you reply, already looking forward to what’s to come.

A few days after your magical date with Jisung, your phone buzzes while you’re at home. It’s a text from him.

Jisung: Hey, no pressure, but the guys are getting together for dinner this weekend. I’d love for you to come along.

You read the message a couple of times, your heart fluttering.

You: Are you sure? I mean, isn’t that like…a big deal?

Jisung: It’s not a big deal! Well, okay, maybe it is a little, but only because I want them to meet you. They’re like family to me.

You: And you’re sure they won’t think it’s weird?

Jisung: baby, they’re going to love you. Trust me. Besides, it’ll be fun. Casual. No pressure.

You: Okay. Let’s do it.

The evening of the dinner, Jisung picks you up, visibly excited. “You look amazing,” he says, grinning as you slide into his car. “You’re going to fit right in.”

The dinner is at a trendy Korean BBQ restaurant, and the private room is already lively when you arrive. The other members of Jisung’s former group greet you warmly, their energy filling the space.

“Guys, this is y/n,” Jisung says, his arm resting lightly on your back. Then, with a small but unmistakable smile, he adds, “My girlfriend.”

You feel a collective shift in the room as all eyes turn to you, surprise quickly morphing into grins and playful teasing.

“Girlfriend?” Chan, the leader, says, raising an eyebrow at Jisung. “Since when?”

“Since recently,” Jisung replies, his tone casual but his expression soft as he looks at you.

“Wow, finally! I thought this day would never come,” Changbin teases, earning a laugh from everyone, including you.

“Okay, okay, don’t scare her off,” Jisung says, laughing as he guides you to a seat beside him.

As the night goes on, the atmosphere grows more relaxed. The members share hilarious stories from their time as a group, complete with impressions and exaggerated reenactments.

“Did he tell you about the time he lost his pants on stage?” Hyunjin asks, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Hyunjin!” Jisung protests, his face turning bright red.

“Oh, please, you have to tell me now,” you say, laughing.

Jisung groans dramatically, covering his face as Hyunjin dives into the story, complete with theatrical flair.

When it’s your turn to share something about yourself, they listen intently, occasionally throwing in jokes that make everyone laugh. You can tell how much they care for Jisung, and their approval feels like a warm embrace.

“You’re really good for him,” Chan says quietly as the others are distracted grilling meat. His kind smile reassures you. “He’s been happier lately. Thank you for that.”

You glance at Jisung, who’s laughing at something Seungmin just said, and feel a wave of affection. “He makes me happy too,” you reply honestly.

The teasing began almost as soon as Changbin noticed how attentive Jisung was being to you throughout the dinner. Whether it was making sure you had enough food or leaning in to whisper something funny in your ear, it was clear Jisung was smitten—and Changbin wasn’t going to let that slide unnoticed.

As the group grilled meat and exchanged banter, Changbin raised an eyebrow at Jisung, smirking. “You know, Jisung, it’s funny…” he began, drawing the attention of everyone at the table.

Jisung immediately tensed, a cautious look flashing across his face. “What’s funny?” he asked warily.

Changbin gestured toward you with his chopsticks. “Just how different y/n is from your ex. I mean, not to stir the pot or anything—”

“Then don’t,” Jisung interjected, though his tone lacked bite.

But Changbin wasn’t stopping. “—but seriously! Like night and day. y/n’s relaxed, fun, down-to-earth…” He trailed off with a playful shrug, his grin growing.

The table erupted in laughter, though you felt a little heat creep into your cheeks. You glanced at Jisung, who was glaring at Changbin with mock annoyance, his ears turning red.

“Yah, Changbin-hyung,” Jisung said, pointing his chopsticks at him. “You don’t have to point it out like that.”

“Oh, come on, it’s a compliment,” Changbin said with a laugh, raising his hands in mock defense. “I’m just saying you clearly upgraded. Don’t act like you don’t know it.”

“Hyung’s glowing,” Felix chimed in with a cheeky grin, piling on the teasing.

“Don’t make me regret inviting you all,” Jisung muttered, though the corners of his lips twitched in amusement.

You decided to jump in, hoping to lighten the moment. “I don’t know if I should be flattered or slightly concerned about how much you’re comparing me to her,” you joked, earning more laughter from the group.

Changbin laughed the hardest. “No, no, you should definitely be flattered. He’s happier than I’ve seen him in years.”

Jisung sighed dramatically, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m never hearing the end of this, am I?”

“Not a chance,” Seungmin replied with his trademark deadpan humor, making everyone laugh again.

Despite the teasing, you could feel the warmth in the room, the genuine affection Jisung’s friends had for him—and, by extension, for you. As Jisung reached under the table to squeeze your hand, his shy smile told you he didn’t mind the jokes as much as he let on.

Later, as you were leaving, Jisung shook his head, muttering, “Changbin’s never going to let me live that down.”

The car ride back to Jisung’s apartment was quiet, the hum of the engine filling the space between you. The earlier teasing and laughter had dimmed, replaced by a thoughtful silence that neither of you rushed to break.

Finally, you glanced over at him. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” you started softly, your voice gentle. “But… how did things end with your ex?”

Jisung’s grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly. He looked straight ahead, his expression unreadable for a moment before speaking. “It wasn’t easy,” he said quietly. “Nothing about it was.”

You gave him a moment, waiting patiently. “We were young when we met. Fell in love quickly. For a while, it was perfect. We supported each other through everything—the good and the bad. But… the more I focused on my career, the more she felt like she was losing herself.”

You could see the pain flicker in his eyes as he said it, the weight of those words hanging between you.

“It’s hard, when two people are going in different directions,” he continued, his voice a little hoarse. “The distance, the misunderstandings—it felt like the walls were closing in. Eventually, we stopped talking as much. Stopped seeing each other the way we once did.”

You reached out, lightly placing a hand on his knee. “That must’ve been really painful,” you said softly. “To watch something you both built fall apart.”

Jisung let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing under your touch. “It was. Still is, sometimes. But… we weren’t right for each other. And Seyeon deserved more stability, more love than we could give her when we were barely holding on ourselves.”

The honesty in his voice cut through the tension in the car, and you felt a deep sympathy for the man who had carried so much weight for so long. “You’re doing your best,” you said gently. “For both of them.”

He glanced at you, offering a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I try.”

You gave his knee a squeeze, the touch offering comfort, though the quiet that followed was heavier now. It wasn’t an easy conversation, but you felt like you understood a little more of Jisung—the man behind the laughter, behind the fame.

After a while, he spoke again, softer this time. “I don’t talk about her often. Seyeon means everything to me. She’s my world now. And I don’t regret how things turned out, even if it hurt.”

“I know,” you said, your voice barely a whisper. “But it’s okay to talk about it. You don’t have to carry it all alone.”

He nodded slightly, his fingers drumming softly against the steering wheel. “It’s just… hard sometimes. Seeing how happy Seyeon is now, and knowing that the woman who helped create her is still part of the equation. It’s not simple.”

“No, it’s not,” you agreed. “But you’re doing better than you think.”

The rest of the drive was quieter, the words exchanged grounding but still heavy with emotion. You didn’t need to fill the silence. Just being there was enough.

When you arrived at his apartment, Jisung reached for your hand, holding it tightly as you both stepped out of the car. The weight of the conversation lingered, but there was something tender in the way he looked at you.

The door to Jisung’s apartment creaked open slowly, and your heart immediately sank when you stepped inside. The tension in the air was thick, palpable even before you saw them. Voices—raised, angry—echoed from down the hall.

“No, Jisung! You can’t just bring her into our lives like this!”

It was her, you could’ve tell by the long thick brown hair and her slim body. Seyeon’s mother. Her voice sharp, filled with frustration, and a trace of betrayal.

Jisung’s voice followed, equally firm and unyielding. “She’s part of Seyeon’s life. She’s part of mine now too. You don’t get to control that anymore.”

You froze by the entrance, uncertainty washing over you. You could hear Seyeon’s soft cries from her room, the sound barely audible through the tense exchange. She must’ve heard everything.

This isn’t how I wanted it to start, you thought, your grip tightening on your bag.

The apartment felt suffocating. Every word was a blow, a crack in something fragile. They had been separated for years, and yet the wounds still ran deep.

“You’re being selfish!” her voice snapped. “You didn’t even consult me! She’s a nanny, Jisung! A stranger! You’re bringing her into her life without thinking—without even telling me!”

“I did think about it!” Jisung shouted back, his voice raising with every word. “I thought about what’s best for Seyeon. And if that means bringing y/n into our world, then so be it. I’m not going to hide who she is anymore.”

The tension in the room crackled, a storm brewing that neither of them seemed ready to weather.

You felt like an intruder, standing there in the doorway, unable to move, unable to escape the weight of it all. This wasn’t supposed to be your role—caught between two parents who were struggling to put their differences aside.

Finally, Jisung’s voice lowered, softer but no less fierce. “This isn’t about me or you anymore. It’s about her. About Seyeon. And she deserves to be happy, to feel safe—whether that’s with me or with you.”

A heavy silence fell over the apartment, the kind that left no room for words. You could hear the trembling breaths of both Jisung and Seyeon’s mother, neither one backing down, neither one willing to compromise.

“I’m not here to take her place,” you said softly, stepping forward into the hallway. “I’m here for Seyeon. She needs stability, and I want to be a part of that. But I’m not here to replace anyone.”

Both their eyes snapped to you, the weight of your words landing between them.

Jisung’s mother softened slightly at your presence, though her gaze was still sharp. “And what happens when this… arrangement falls apart? You’ll leave too? Like everyone else?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you replied, holding her gaze steadily. “I’m here as long as Seyeon needs me. And if that’s what Jisung and I decide, then I’ll be here. It’s not about me; it’s about her.”

Another beat of silence followed. Jisung stepped closer to you, his hand briefly finding yours in a gesture of quiet support.

Seyeon’s mother exhaled slowly, her anger subdued but not gone. “You have no idea how complicated this is,” she finally said, her voice low and weary. “And maybe… maybe you’re right. Maybe Seyeon does need more than just a father or a mother. But this isn’t what I imagined for her. Not this.”

Jisung nodded solemnly, his jaw tight. “I know. But we don’t always get to choose how life turns out. The only thing I want is for her to be happy. That’s all.”

Seyeon’s soft sniffles turned into quiet whimpers from her room, and Jisung’s mother’s face softened slightly at the sound. “She’s scared,” she said quietly, her voice trembling. “She’s hearing all of this. She doesn’t understand.”

Jisung’s eyes closed for a moment, his breath hitching slightly. “I know. I know. And I hate this more than anything. But she’ll get through it. We’ll get through it.”

A final, heavy pause hung in the air before Seyeon’s mother spoke again. “You’d better hope this works, Jisung. Because if it doesn’t…”

“I know,” he interrupted, voice steady despite the tremor in his hands. “I know.”

She turned, walking toward Seyeon’s room, knocking softly on the door. “Seyeon, it’s mommy,” she said gently, her voice wavering. “Can I come in?”

The little girl’s hesitant voice responded from behind the door, but it was barely audible. “No, mommy. I wanna stay with daddy…”

Jisung’s face tightened, the raw pain evident as he looked toward the door. Without another word, Seyeon’s mother left the apartment, closing the door softly behind her. The silence that followed was deafening.

Jisung leaned against the wall, his breath shaky, and you approached him carefully. “She didn’t mean what she said,” you said softly, your hand resting on his arm. “She’s just scared.”

“I know,” Jisung murmured, pressing his forehead against the cool wall, his voice hoarse. “But it hurts. More than I ever thought it would.”

You wrapped your arms around him tightly, holding him close, letting him feel the comfort you could give, even if it wasn’t enough. “You’re doing everything you can. For both of them.”

Together, you stood there, the weight of the moment pressing down on you both. Seyeon’s cries continued softly from her room, and you knew that healing would be a long, painful journey—one neither of you could rush.

The night was long and heavy. Jisung sat by Seyeon’s room, occasionally knocking softly to check on her, but she never answered. The pain of her confusion and fear was palpable, even from the other side of the door.

You stood quietly in the living room, watching him from a distance. The man who had always seemed so composed, so in control, was unraveling. His shoulders sagged, his head hanging low as he struggled with the weight of the situation. You knew how much Seyeon meant to him, and seeing him like this, broken yet determined, tugged at your heart.

Finally, after what felt like hours, he broke the silence. “She doesn’t want me to go in,” Jisung said, his voice low and strained. “She doesn’t want to see me.”

You walked over to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You can’t force her, Jisung. She needs time.”

He nodded, swallowing hard. “I know. I just—” His voice cracked, and for a moment, he couldn’t finish his thought. “I feel helpless.”

“You’re not,” you assured him quietly. “You’re doing everything right. She knows you love her.”

Jisung let out a breath, leaning back against the wall. “I keep thinking about what I could’ve done differently—what I should’ve done. Maybe if we hadn’t fought like that, she wouldn’t be so scared.”

You knelt down in front of him, forcing him to look at you. “No one’s perfect, Jisung. You’re doing everything you can. And that’s enough.”

A small smile broke through his pain, though it was bittersweet. “You’re too good to me.”

You squeezed his hand softly, a comforting gesture that spoke volumes without words. “Because you deserve it.”

His hands moves on your cheeks gently, cupping your face and bring it close to his, his lips ghosting yours for a moment before his mouth collide against you gently - but fill with passion. He's in a pure need of attention and gentle touches. You kiss him back with the same feeling because you are slowly realising how much you are in love with this man.

As the kiss continue, as your lips keeps going for his, his hands slips on the back pocket of your jeans making you squirm a little against his lips, "J-jisung.."

"Please."

"Not now okay?" you coo as your thumb brush against his bottom lip gently, for how badly you want his hands on you, the moment is not the best. He press his lips together before pressing them gently against your thumb. "Okay, you're right."

The night dragged on, the quiet moments shared between you filled with unspoken understanding. You sat together in the dim glow of the living room lamp, sharing stories and reminiscing about simpler times, anything to ease the tension between you.

As the sky began to lighten with the first rays of dawn, Jisung finally spoke again. “She still doesn’t want to see me. But maybe… if she sees you here with me, she’ll feel safe enough to come out.”

You squeezed his hand gently. “I’ll be here. For both of you.”

He nodded slowly, a sense of peace washing over him at your words. Even in the quiet of the morning, the weight of the previous night hadn’t completely lifted, but it was a step forward—however small.

Just as the sun started to rise, a soft shuffle came from Seyeon’s room. Her small voice called out quietly, unsure yet hopeful. “Daddy?”

Jisung’s breath hitched, and without thinking, he moved toward the door. “Sweetcheeks?”

Slowly, the door creaked open, revealing a timid, tear-streaked face. Her mother’s protective instincts were evident, but her little eyes searched for something familiar—something safe.

“Come here, sweet girl,” Jisung whispered, his voice gentle and full of love. He knelt down, opening his arms wide, and Seyeon stepped into them hesitantly. He wrapped her up in a tight embrace, her tiny arms clinging to him like a lifeline.

“I was scared,” she murmured against his shoulder, her voice barely audible.

“I know, baby,” Jisung said softly, rocking her gently. “But you’re safe now. You’re with me.”

You watched from a distance, your heart swelling with emotion. Watching Jisung finally connect with his daughter after the turmoil gave you a sense of purpose that was hard to explain. He deserved to be her rock, just as she deserved to lean on him.

After a few moments, Seyeon lifted her head, her tear-streaked face searching for yours. “y/n,” she said softly, her small voice tinged with curiosity. “You stayed?”

You smiled warmly, crouching down to her level. “Of course I did, sweetie. I told you, I’m here for both of you.”

It’s almost midnight of a random Wednesday when your phone buzz with a jisung’s text asking you to come to his apartment for a small stay in date, you’re over the edge. You missed him, you missed your boyfriend because the last week you couldn’t see him – he was too busy working, Seyeon stayed with her mother an addictional weekend and your essays were one on top of the other in your desk. So when he asked you to be there in 10 minutes, you were already taking the bus to his house. You didn’t dressed up, you just casually put a comfortable sweater on and a skirt just how he seems to like you.

When you knock at the door his happy smile makes you feel immidiately at home. “Hey, beautiful,” Jisung greets, leaning against the doorframe with a playful smirk. His messy hair and soft hoodie make him look effortlessly perfect, and the way his eyes rake over you sends a shiver down your spine. “You didn’t make me wait long, did you?”

You roll your eyes but can’t stop the grin spreading across your face. “Not everyone has the luxury of teleporting, Sungie. The bus takes time.”

He chuckles, stepping aside to let you in. “You could’ve run here. I would’ve been worth it.”

His teasing tone is matched with a flirtatious glance, and before you can come up with a witty reply, his hands find your waist as soon as the door closes. He pulls you in, the familiar warmth of his touch melting away the stress of your week. His lips brush your temple, then your cheek, lingering just enough to make your heartbeat quicken.

“You smell like heaven,” he murmurs, his voice low and velvety. His lips find your ear, and you swear you can feel his smile. “And you look even better than I imagined.”

Your face heats up as you lightly shove his chest. “you’re saying this knowing damn well how I loove.”

He catches your hands and holds them against his chest, his grin widening. “maybe yes, maybe no. That’s up to you.”

The warmth in his eyes makes your knees weak, but before you can drown in his gaze, he tugs you further inside. The living room is dimly lit, fairy lights draped across the walls casting a soft glow over the space. A cozy blanket is spread across the couch, and the coffee table holds a bottle of soda – because he knows you don’t like to drink and he secretly appreciate that, two glasses, and a bowl of popcorn.

Jisung notices your eyes scanning the setup and tugs at your hand to pull you closer. “Nothing fancy,” he says, feigning nonchalance, “but I figured you deserve a little break. Just us, we didn’t had that many dates due my schedules and your exams.”

Your heart swells as he leads you to the couch. The air between you is thick with anticipation, his hand lingering on yours as you sit. He leans in close, his knee brushing against yours. “So,” he starts, his voice dropping an octave, “how much did you miss me?”

You try to stay composed, but his proximity and the mischievous glint in his eye make it impossible. “Enough to take the bus at almost midnight,” you reply, meeting his gaze.

His smile turns sly as he shifts even closer, his lips mere inches from yours. “Only enough for that?” he teases, his voice a breathy whisper. “Guess I’ll have to work harder to make you miss me more.”

Before you can answer, his hand cups your cheek, and he closes the distance between you. His lips are soft and warm, moving against yours with a tenderness that quickly turns intoxicating. The world outside fades away as you lose yourself in him—his touch, his scent, the way he tastes like home.

When he finally pulls back, just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his voice is husky. “You’re mine tonight. No essays, no kids, no stress—just us. Deal?”

You nod, breathless, already sinking into the haven he’s created. “Deal.”

Jisung smiles against your lips as you kiss him again, his hands still cradling your face like you’re the most delicate thing in the world. He pulls back just far enough to see your flushed cheeks and dazed expression, his own grin soft and full of affection.

“Come on,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

He leads you to the couch, settling you into the corner where the blankets are piled. He sits down beside you and pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as if he’s trying to shield you from the rest of the world. The faint hum of the fairy lights fills the air, along with the soft rustle of the blanket as he tucks it over both of you.

You relax against him, your head naturally finding its place on his chest. His heartbeat is steady beneath your ear, and the familiar scent of his cologne mixed with his own warmth makes you sigh in contentment. He leans down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

The two of you stay like that for a while, wrapped up in each other, the outside world a distant memory. Jisung shifts slightly, adjusting the blanket and pulling you closer, his fingers now absentmindedly running through your hair.

“What are we watching?” you ask eventually, your voice muffled against his chest.

He chuckles softly, his chest vibrating against you. “Nothing yet. I got too distracted by you.”

You playfully swat his side, but he only laughs, pulling you even closer. “Alright, alright,” he relents, reaching for the remote. “Let’s pick something cozy. You’re the boss tonight.”

You glance at the screen as he scrolls through the options, his free hand never leaving your waist. After some debate, you settle on a rom-com, one of your favorites that he insists he’s never seen but secretly knows by heart.

As the movie plays, Jisung’s commentary is both endearing and hilarious, his whispered quips earning giggles from you that he seems determined to keep coming. When you laugh too hard, he presses a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering as he whispers, “I love that sound.”

His lips find your neck, leaving soft pecks long the way, your hands instinctively clutch at his hoodie as his lips find your neck, pressing soft, deliberate kisses that make your heart race. He takes his time, his touch unhurried, as if savoring every second. When he reaches the curve where your neck meets your shoulder, he lingers, his lips brushing over your skin with maddening gentleness.

“You smell so good,” he murmurs against your neck, his voice a low rasp that sends a thrill down your spine. His teeth graze your skin lightly, and your grip on his hoodie tightens.

“Jisung,” you say again, your voice a mix of a plea and a warning. He chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against your neck.

“What?” he asks, feigning innocence as his lips press another kiss just below your collarbone. “I’m just making up for lost time.”

You tilt your head slightly, giving him more access despite yourself. His hands slide to your waist, steadying you as he continues to kiss and nuzzle your neck. Each press of his lips feels like fire and electricity, sending sparks through your entire body.

“Missed you,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. The tenderness in his words is enough to make your heart clench, and you can’t help but pull him closer.

“I missed you too,” you admit, your fingers tangling in his hair. He lifts his head just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark and filled with affection—and something more.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he leans in to kiss you again, this time on your lips. It’s slow and deliberate, a kiss that feels like a promise. 

Your hands slips on the elm of his hoodie, removing it from his body and you canno’t stop looking. The tattoos on his torso are incredibly attractive, broad shoulders, thin waist adorned with prominent abdominal muscles, before reaching a v-line that leads into his boxers. You’re wide eyed, you’re fingers are itching to touch his toned skin, “damn.”

He shrugs nonchalantly, crossing his arms over his chest. “are you that surprised?”

“well yeah for your age-“ You smirk causing him to pout. “hey!”

His arms moves around your waist, lifting you from the ground and placing your stomach against his shoulder, you kicks lightly your legs in the air, “Jisung you better put me down!”

Giggles fills the apartment as he hold you with an arm around your waist and the other patting playfully your ass, “nah, I can carry you easily like this.”

“But—“

“No buts, you’re not a kid and tonight you’re my girl to pleasure.” His words are warm and they make you blush when you step into his room, a smile growing in your lips and another laugh left your lungs when he kindly let you lay on the bed, your back against the sheets that smells like him.

“You are—“ he swallow lightly, his fingers tracing the elm of your shorts, “beautiful. Breathtaking.” 

Your clothes end up quickly on the floor, his hands roaming all over your body, tracing your skin and trying to get every single part touched by him, he wants you to forget about the past partners and remember only him. Him and his smile, him and his giggles, his soft and kind voice. 

The arch of your back makes him shiver, it’s a scene of a movie, his index trace from between your breasts to the sweet roll of your tummy, making you chuckle, “are you having fun?”

“Very. And you?” His eyes looks for confirm, your nods is enough for his finger to run over your belly button. He’s teasing you, you can tell. It tickles you. ��Jisung don’t tease me.”

“What they say? waiting increases desire,” You roll his eyes at your boyfriend’s smirk.

“You say that to your kid,” he squeeze his eyes a little, shaking his head quickly almost to remove a thought from his mind, “don’t.. don’t say that!”

A small noise of surprise falls from your lips, just as he lean to kiss you softly to shut you up — he need more. The hand on your waist pulls you closer and at the same time, he presses his lips harder against yours. His lips mold into yours, spit gathering in his mouth from hunger. 

His hands spread apart your legs wide, making you squeak at the sudden action, his hands grips your hips raising them enough for his dick to rub against your folds, “you’re teasing me again.”

Your purrs makes his skin shivers, “do you want me that bad?” he bend over you, his nose nudge against yours gently as you smile, the intimacy of the moment makes your pussy get wetter.  

His hands grip your waist tightly as he feels your wet heat taking him inch by inch, “Fuuuuck, how many times have I dreamt about this?” He hiss, you’re absolutely enjoying this. 

Jisung is stretching you out so good, as his cock is rubbing over that sweet spot inside you. He’s enjoying the view, you’re hidden eyes, the way your tits are bouncing when he push deeper in you. It’s been a while since he fucked someone and it felt this good, it’s really hard for him to not come yet.

“I’m so close.. jisung.” You’re moans filled his room, your head moved backward making him grunt under his breath, he pulls out stroking his shaft in a rough manner, “no.. no cum inside.”

“A-are you sure?” Your hand reach for his tip gently, brushing the tip with his thumb making his hips moving forward for his touch, you guide his cock back inside you, your walls squeezing him again as he start to thrust into you faster than before, rougher, raw. It’s a feeling that makes your feel full, the light bulge in your low stomach makes him with a cocky smirk, “oh look how deep I am.”

He brushes his fingers over your skin, making you whimper, your legs tight around his waist, “o-oh God— Jisung..” Your legs shakes in pleasure as he cums deep in you, his forehead resting against your shoulder.

He slowly moves to lay beside you, trying to catch some breath after the intensity of your love making. The room is bathed in a warm, golden glow from the bedside lamp as you and Jisung lay tangled together beneath the covers. His arm is draped lazily around your waist, his fingers drawing absentminded circles on your skin. You feel utterly at peace, your head resting on his chest, his heartbeat a steady rhythm against your ear.

But then, he breaks the silence with a dramatic sigh.

“Y/n,” he says, his voice filled with mock seriousness. “I need to tell you something. Something big.”

You tilt your head to look up at him, his expression so over-the-top that you can’t help but giggle. “What is it, Sungie? Did you run out of snacks again?”

“No,” he groans, throwing his free hand over his forehead like a tragic hero in a melodrama. “It’s worse. Much worse.”

You raise an eyebrow, biting back another laugh. “Worse than running out of snacks? Now I’m worried.”

He shifts, propping himself up on one elbow and staring down at you with wide, comically serious eyes. “I’m not ready to be a dad again,” he declares, his voice filled with mock despair. “I barely survived the first time.”

It takes you a second to process his words, and then you burst into laughter. “What are you even talking about? You’re an amazing dad to Seyeon!”

“That’s not the point!” he retorts, wagging a finger at you like a professor giving a lecture. “Seyeon’s a literal angel. She eats her vegetables, brushes her teeth without a fight, and even says please and thank you. Do you know how rare that is?”

You nod, still laughing. “So what’s the problem?”

He flops back down onto the pillows, groaning dramatically. “The problem is, I’ve been spoiled! What if the next kid is a little gremlin? What if they refuse to eat anything except chicken nuggets and demand a bedtime story and a TED Talk every night before bed?”

You cover your mouth to stifle your laughter as he continues, his arms flailing for emphasis. “And don’t even get me started on the diapers. Do you have any idea how many diapers I changed with Seyeon? Enough to build a small fortress! I could’ve gone pro in diaper-changing.”

You snuggle closer, resting your chin on his chest as you grin up at him. “So what I’m hearing is... you’re scared of tiny humans.”

“Terrified,” he says, nodding solemnly. “Tiny humans are unpredictable. One minute they’re giggling at your funny faces, and the next, they’re crying because you didn’t let them eat crayons.”

“You’re being dramatic,” you tease, poking his side. “But for the record, I think you’d do just fine if we ever had another one. You’re kind, patient, and you have a way of making even the most boring things fun.”

He blinks at you, his dramatic persona melting away for a moment as he smiles softly. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” you say, pressing a kiss to his chest.

He sighs, his smile turning playful again. “Okay.”

“but why did we started to talk about kids all of the sudden?”

“i.. cummed inside,” you laugh, pulling him into a hug.

As he wraps his arms around you, his voice softens. “Don’t tease me! It’s serious, I don’t.. I don’t think we can be pregnant yet. Seyeon barely know that we are together.”

“Agreed,” you murmur, resting your head against his chest again. His hand resumes its lazy circles on your back, and soon, the room is filled with nothing but the sound of your shared laughter and steady breathing. “And for the record, I take the pill.”

He sigh in relief, making you laugh louder.

It’s a quiet Saturday morning, and the three of you—Jisung, Seyeon, and you—are sitting in the living room. Seyeon is sprawled on the floor, surrounded by a sea of coloring books and crayons, her little tongue sticking out in concentration as she carefully colors a unicorn. Jisung is on the couch, his legs stretched out lazily, while you sit beside him, close enough that your knees occasionally bump.

“Daddy,” Seyeon says, not looking up from her masterpiece, “what’s your favorite color?”

Jisung leans forward, pretending to ponder the question deeply. “Hmm, that’s a tough one. I like... whatever color y/n likes.”

You look at him in surprise, your cheeks heating up. “What?” you ask, laughing nervously. “Why?”

“Because,” he says with a playful shrug, “it’s always a safe bet to like what y/n likes. She has excellent taste.”

Seyeon looks up at him, her crayon paused mid-stroke. “What if she likes rainbow? That’s all the colors, Daddy.”

“Then I like rainbow,” Jisung declares confidently, shooting you a wink.

A few minutes later, Seyeon holds up her finished unicorn drawing, beaming with pride. “Look, Daddy! Look, y/nie!”

“Wow!” Jisung exclaims, clapping his hands dramatically. “That’s amazing, sweetheart. y/n, don’t you think Seyeon’s got the best artistic talent ever?”

You nod enthusiastically. “Absolutely. She’s a little Picasso.”

Seyeon grins, clearly pleased with the praise. Then Jisung leans down toward her, his tone suddenly conspiratorial. “You know,” he says, “Y/n has been helping you so much lately. I think she deserves a big thank-you, don’t you?”

Seyeon nods eagerly. “Thank you, y/n!”

“Aw, you’re welcome, sweetie,” you say, reaching over to ruffle her hair.

Jisung isn’t done, though. “But,” he adds, his voice taking on a teasing tone, “don’t you think y/n is super nice and pretty, too? Like, the best nanny ever?”

Seyeon blinks up at him, then looks at you, her face scrunching in thought. “Yeah, y/n is really pretty. And she makes the best sandwiches. Daddy, do you like her?”

The room goes still for a moment, and you feel your face heat up. Jisung, however, takes it in stride, a sly smile spreading across his lips. “Of course I like her,” he says, leaning back casually. “She’s amazing. Don’t you think it’d be nice if she stayed with us forever?”

Seyeon tilts her head, her tiny brows furrowing. “Like... forever forever?”

Jisung nods, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Forever forever.”

You clear your throat, trying to suppress a laugh. “Okay, let’s not confuse her,” you say, shooting him a look.

Seyeon, ever the perceptive child, turns her gaze to you. “Do you want to stay forever, y/n?”

Caught off guard, you stammer, “Well, I—I mean, I really like being here with you and your daddy. But—”

“She does,” Jisung interrupts smoothly, cutting you off with a grin. “She just doesn’t know it yet.”

“Daddy,” Seyeon says matter-of-factly, “you’re being weird.”

Jisung laughs, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “Maybe. But I’m also right.”

You shake your head, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as Seyeon goes back to her coloring. Jisung catches your eye, his grin softening into something more sincere. It’s a moment that lingers just a little too long, and when you look away, you can still feel his gaze on you.

The morning slips into the soft, lazy hum of afternoon, with Seyeon bouncing between coloring, her favorite cartoons, and occasionally running to grab snacks from the kitchen. You and Jisung remain in the living room, comfortably settled on the couch, though his occasional remarks keep you on edge—playfully, of course.

As Seyeon gets engrossed in her show, Jisung leans toward you, his voice dropping low enough so only you can hear. “You know,” he starts, his tone light and teasing, “I wasn’t kidding earlier.”

You glance at him, narrowing your eyes. “About what?”

“About you staying forever.” His grin is playful, but there’s an unmistakable warmth in his eyes that makes your breath hitch.

“Jisung,” you whisper, glancing nervously at Seyeon, who’s still focused on the TV. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”

“Why not?” he asks, leaning his chin on his hand as if you’re having the most casual conversation in the world. “It’s true. I mean, Seyeon already loves you, you make the best sandwiches, and—let’s be honest—I think I’d be a little lost without you around.”

You try to play it off, rolling your eyes even as your cheeks heat up. “You’re being dramatic again.”

“I’m not!” he protests, his voice a little louder now. Seyeon turns briefly to look at him, and he quickly softens his tone. “I’m just saying... this house feels a lot warmer when you’re in it.”

You bite your lip, unsure how to respond. Before you can think of something, Seyeon pipes up from her spot on the floor, completely oblivious to the tension in the room.

“Daddy, can we have pancakes tomorrow?” she asks, twisting around to look at him.

“Of course, sweetie,” Jisung says with a bright smile. Then, without missing a beat, he adds, “Maybe y/n will help me make them. Or, you know, we could have y/n  make all the pancakes forever.”

“Forever pancakes!” Seyeon cheers, throwing her hands in the air. She doesn’t fully understand what he’s implying, but she giggles anyway, clearly enjoying the idea.

Before you can respond, she climbs onto the couch, wedging herself between the two of you with all the confidence of a child who knows she’s the center of your world. She looks up at Jisung with big, curious eyes.

“Daddy, do you love y/n?”

The question hangs in the air, and you feel like your heart has stopped. Jisung, however, doesn’t miss a beat. He glances at you, a playful twinkle in his eye, before turning to his daughter.

“Of course I love y/n,” he says, his tone warm and sincere. “She’s very special to us, don’t you think?”

Seyeon nods seriously. “Yeah, she’s the best.”

Your heart melts at the sight of her little face lit up with pure affection. Jisung, ever the opportunist, takes the moment to slide an arm around both you and Seyeon, pulling you closer.

“See?” he murmurs, his voice dropping just for you. “I think it’s unanimous. You’re stuck with us.”

Seyeon claps her hands. “Y/n forever!” she declares, leaning against you with a contented sigh. Jisung winks at you over her head, and you can’t help but laugh. Maybe staying forever isn’t such a bad idea after all.

You’re folding laundry on a quiet Sunday afternoon when Jisung walks into the room, Seyeon bouncing happily on his hip. His face lights up when he sees you, and you smile back instinctively. Moments like these—the easy rhythm of life in their home—always warm your heart, even as they sometimes leave you wondering if you truly belong here in the way Jisung’s lingering glances suggest.

“Hey, y/n,” Jisung says casually, though there’s a certain energy to his tone that immediately puts you on alert. “I was thinking...”

“That’s always dangerous,” you tease, setting down the shirt you were folding.

He grins, undeterred. “Ha ha, very funny. No, seriously. We’re heading out of town for the holidays, just a little cabin getaway. Me, Seyeon... her mom.” He pauses, gauging your reaction. “And I thought it’d be really nice if you came with us.”

You freeze mid-fold, your mind racing. Did he just—?

Seyeon perks up at the mention of you. “Y/n’s coming? Yay! You’ll build snowmen with me, right?”

Your heart clenches at her excitement, but your nerves are quick to set in. “Oh, um... I don’t know,” you say hesitantly, glancing at Jisung. “I wouldn’t want to intrude or anything.”

“Intrude?” Jisung repeats, laughing softly. “Y/n, you’re family. You’re basically Seyeon’s favorite person in the world—after me, of course,” he adds with a wink.

“And Mommy,” Seyeon chimes in cheerfully, her little voice oblivious to the awkward undercurrent her words create.

You force a smile, your anxiety bubbling beneath the surface. The idea of spending the holidays with Jisung, Seyeon, and her mother feels... complicated. What if it’s awkward? What if her mom doesn’t like the idea of you being there? What if you misread all of Jisung’s hints and you’re overstepping your place in their lives?

“I don’t know, Jisung,” you say softly, busying yourself with folding another shirt. “It sounds like a family thing. I don’t want to get in the way.”

He sets Seyeon down, and she scampers off to find her crayons. As soon as she’s out of earshot, Jisung steps closer, his expression softening. “Y/n, listen. I know it might feel... weird. But it’s not like that, I promise. Seyeon adores you, and I want you there because—well, because I want you there. You make everything better, even the holidays.”

His sincerity catches you off guard, and you look up at him, your cheeks warming. “Are you sure her mom will be okay with it? I don’t want to cause any tension.”

Jisung waves off your concern with a casual shrug. “She’s fine with it. We’ve talked about it already. Things between us are purely about co-parenting now, nothing else. She knows how important you are to Seyeon—and to me.”

Your heart skips a beat at the way he says those last words, but you still hesitate. “It’s just... a lot. I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.”

Jisung steps closer, his hand brushing yours. “Y/N,” he says softly, his gaze locking with yours. “You’re not just Seyeon’s nanny. You’re part of this family, whether you realize it or not. The holidays wouldn’t feel right without you there.”

His words settle over you like a warm blanket, melting away some of your anxiety. You glance toward the living room, where Seyeon is happily humming to herself as she colors. She’s so excited about the idea of you coming, and Jisung’s earnestness is hard to resist.

“Okay,” you say finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll come.”

Jisung’s face lights up with a smile that makes your heart flutter. “That’s my girl,” he says, squeezing your hand briefly before pulling away.

As you watch him walk back to Seyeon, your nerves remain, but they’re tempered by something else—something warmer. Maybe this holiday won’t be as daunting as you think. Maybe, just maybe, it’ll be exactly what you need to feel like you truly belong.

Oh, if only you knew how bad the things were turning to.

The cabin was quiet except for the faint crackle of the fireplace. Seyeon had just fallen asleep after an evening of snow angels and hot chocolate, and you were in your room, giving Jisung and his ex some space to talk. They hadn’t had a real conversation in a long time, and tonight seemed like the right time—at least that’s what Jisung had said.

But now, standing in the dimly lit living room, he wasn’t so sure.

“So,” she started, her arms crossed defensively as she leaned against the mantle. “What’s this really about, Jisung? You’re acting like everything’s fine, like we can play happy families for Seyeon’s sake, but we both know it’s not that simple.”

Jisung sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not about playing happy families. It’s about doing what’s best for her. She deserves stability, and I thought we were finally in a place where we could at least pretend to get along.”

“Pretend,” she repeated bitterly, a harsh laugh escaping her lips. “Right. Because pretending fixes everything. Like it fixed us?”

“This isn’t about us,” Jisung snapped, his voice sharper than he intended. He softened his tone, taking a step closer. “It’s about Seyeon. She’s happy. She feels safe. Isn’t that what matters?”

Her eyes narrowed, and she straightened up, her posture rigid. “Don’t act like you’re the only one thinking about her, Jisung. I’ve been doing this alone for years while you were too busy chasing your career. You’re lucky she even knows you.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, and his jaw clenched. “That’s not fair,” he said quietly, his voice laced with hurt. “I’ve done everything I can to be here for her. I love her.”

“And yet you weren’t there when she needed you the most,” she shot back, her voice cracking. “When she had her first fever, when she started school, when she cried herself to sleep asking why Daddy wasn’t home.”

Jisung flinched, his shoulders sagging under the weight of her words. “I know I made mistakes. I wasn’t there as much as I should have been, and I’ll regret that forever. But I’m here now. Doesn’t that count for something?”

She shook her head, tears glistening in her eyes. “You think you can just walk back in and fix everything with your charm and your promises, but life doesn’t work that way. You can’t undo the past, Jisung. And you can’t expect me to forget it, either.”

“I’m not asking you to forget,” he said, his voice trembling with frustration. “I’m asking you to see that I’m trying. For her. For all of us.”

“All of us?” she scoffed, bitterness dripping from her words. “Let’s not pretend this is about ‘us.’ You’ve already moved on, haven’t you? Bringing her here, parading her around like she’s some kind of replacement.”

“Y/n isn’t a replacement,” Jisung said firmly, his eyes blazing. “She’s a part of Seyeon’s life, and she’s been nothing but good for her.”

“Maybe,” she admitted, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “But you don’t get to rewrite history, Jisung. You don’t get to act like the perfect father now and expect me to just go along with it.”

The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating. Jisung looked at her, his expression a mix of anger and heartbreak.

“I’m not trying to rewrite history,” he said finally, his voice quiet but steady. “I’m just trying to be better. For Seyeon. If you can’t see that... then I don’t know what else to say.”

She turned away, her back to him as she stared into the flickering flames. “Maybe there’s nothing left to say,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

Jisung stood there for a moment, his fists clenched at his sides, before he turned and walked away, the weight of her words pressing down on him like a storm cloud.

The air between them was thick with unresolved tension, and as he disappeared down the hallway, she didn’t call after him.

In the quiet of the cabin, the distance between them felt more insurmountable than ever.

The first couple of days passed in relative peace, but by the third morning, it was clear something was off.

It started small: Seyeon’s mother, would “accidentally” leave you out of conversations, her voice dropping to a whisper with Jisung whenever you walked into the room. She rearranged the kitchen supplies you’d neatly organized to prepare breakfast, then acted oblivious when you couldn’t find anything. Once, she even laughed and said, “Oh, you must not spend much time in kitchens,” with a pointed glance at Jisung.

You brushed it off at first. This was her time with Seyeon, too, and you didn’t want to stir up unnecessary drama. But her passive-aggressive behavior only escalated.

When you offered to take Seyeon sledding, she suddenly announced that they’d already planned to go without you. You stayed behind, feeling awkward and unsure of your place. When they returned, her mother made a point of loudly recounting how much fun they’d had, conveniently forgetting to include Jisung’s praise about how Seyeon wouldn’t stop asking for you while they were out.

At dinner one evening, she served everyone but you. When you politely got up to grab your own plate, she laughed. “Oh, sorry! I didn’t realize you were joining us for every meal.”

You bit your tongue, plastering on a smile. “I didn’t mean to impose.”

Jisung, oblivious, simply passed you the serving spoon with a wink. “Y/n’s practically family,” he said, not noticing the way her jaw tightened.

That night, as you tucked Seyeon into bed, she wrapped her little arms around your neck and whispered, “Mommy says you’re just visiting. But I want you to stay forever.”

Her words made your heart ache, but you only smiled, brushing her hair back gently. “I’ll always be here for you, sweetie.”

The next morning, the mother pulled out all the stops. She insisted on decorating Christmas cookies with Seyeon, making a big show of asking Jisung for help. “It’s our little family tradition,” she said sweetly, her eyes flicking to you as she emphasized the word family.

You excused yourself, claiming you needed to catch up on reading. But as you sat on the couch with an open book in your lap, you couldn’t concentrate. You could hear their laughter from the kitchen, and every time her voice rang out, you felt smaller and smaller.

Jisung seemed none the wiser, though you couldn’t blame him. she moves were subtle, designed to push you out of the picture without outright confrontation. And you didn’t want to ruin the holidays for him or Seyeon by bringing it up.

But by the time Christmas Eve rolled around, your patience was wearing thin. You were helping Jisung set the table for dinner when she walked in, holding a tray of desserts she’d made with Seyeon.

“Oh, Jisung,” she said in a syrupy tone, “remember the first Christmas we spent together? You couldn’t stop eating my cookies.”

Jisung chuckled, not catching the tension in the room. “Yeah, you always did make great cookies.”

She smirked, turning to you. “Did you try baking with Seyeon yet? It’s a bit of a skill, you know.”

You opened your mouth to reply, but Jisung beat you to it. “Y/n’s amazing with Seyeon,” he said, smiling warmly. “She doesn’t need to bake to prove that.”

For the first time, his ex faltered, her expression slipping before she covered it with a tight smile. “Of course,” she said, turning back to the tray.

But as the evening wore on, her petty jabs continued, each one chipping away at your resolve. You kept your head high, smiling and nodding through it all, but when the night ended and you finally retreated to your room, you felt exhausted.

You sat on the edge of the bed, your hands trembling with the weight of it all. You wanted to tell Jisung—desperately—but the thought of burdening him during the holidays, or worse, causing tension between him and her, kept you silent.

Christmas morning dawned bright and snowy, the cabin blanketed in a pristine layer of white. You could hear Seyeon’s excited voice echoing through the halls as she begged Jisung to wake up and open presents. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and despite the tension brewing under the surface, you pulled yourself out of bed and resolved to make the day as joyful as possible for her.

By the time you made it to the living room, the mother was already there, sitting cross-legged by the tree and sipping her coffee. Her gaze flicked to you briefly before she turned her attention back to Seyeon, who was bouncing on Jisung’s lap.

“Good morning,” you said softly, offering a polite smile.

The older girl raised her mug in response but didn’t say anything. Jisung, oblivious to the exchange, grinned at you. “Morning, sleepyhead. Coffee’s in the kitchen.”

You nodded and slipped into the kitchen to pour yourself a cup. When you returned, Seyeon was already tearing into the first of her presents, her delighted squeals filling the room. You took a seat on the couch, watching her with a warm smile as Jisung handed her another brightly wrapped package.

“This one’s from y/n,” he said, holding the gift out to her.

Seyeon’s eyes lit up, and she practically lunged for it. “From y/n?” she asked, tearing into the wrapping paper. “Yay!”

As she pulled out the set of art supplies you’d chosen for her, her face lit up with pure joy. “Thank you, y/n!” she cried, running over to throw her arms around you.

You hugged her tightly, your heart swelling. “You’re welcome, sweetheart. I hope you make lots of beautiful pictures with them.”

“Of course I will!” she said, running back to show Jisung and her mother her new treasures.

Jisung’s ex smile was tight, but she said nothing, instead turning her attention to the next present.

As the morning went on, the tension simmered just beneath the surface. Her comments were subtle but pointed, from joking about Jisung’s taste in gifts to making unnecessary remarks about your relationship with Seyeon.

When you offered to help clean up the wrapping paper, she waved you off with an overly sweet smile. “Oh, don’t worry about it, y/n. I’m sure you’re used to tidying up after Seyeon, but this is a family tradition.”

You swallowed the retort rising in your throat and busied yourself picking up stray ribbons instead. Jisung was too preoccupied with helping Seyeon assemble a toy to notice the slight, and you decided not to draw attention to it.

Later, during lunch, his ex decided to needle further.

“So, y/n,” she began, her tone light but her eyes sharp. “What are your plans for the new year? I imagine you’ll be looking for other opportunities soon, right?”

Jisung frowned, looking up from his plate. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing,” she said with a shrug, taking a sip of her wine. “It’s just that being a nanny isn’t exactly a long-term career, is it? How long is that girl working for you now? 9, 10 months?”

You felt your cheeks flush, and you opened your mouth to respond, but Jisung beat you to it.

“Y/n’s not just Seyeon’s nanny,” he said firmly, his tone laced with irritation. “She’s part of this family. And she’s not going anywhere.”

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a faint smile. “Of course not,” she said smoothly, though her eyes betrayed her displeasure.

You busied yourself with your food, your appetite gone. Jisung’s words were kind, but they only seemed to add fuel to Mirae’s passive-aggressive fire.

By the time the day wound down, you were emotionally drained. Seyeon had fallen asleep on the couch, clutching one of her new toys, and Jisung had carried her off to bed. Mirae was sitting by the fire, scrolling through her phone, when you finally decided to head to your room.

As you passed her, she spoke without looking up. “You know,” she said, her tone casual, “Jisung’s always been good at seeing the best in people. But that doesn’t mean everyone belongs in his life forever.”

You stopped, your breath catching in your throat. For a moment, you considered responding, but you quickly decided against it. Instead, you turned and walked away, her words echoing in your mind.

Lying in bed that night, you stared at the ceiling, your heart heavy. No matter how much Jisung reassured you, her actions had a way of making you feel like an outsider. And while you didn’t want to let her win, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe she was right—maybe you didn’t belong here after all.

The days after Christmas continued to weigh heavily on you. You kept your distance from her, as much for your own sanity as to avoid any further confrontations. But the further away you emotionally distanced yourself from her, the more distant you became from Jisung too.

You saw the way he looked at you, the concerned glances he gave when you withdrew into yourself during meals or stayed behind while he and Seyeon went outside to play in the snow. He was starting to notice the quietness, the way you didn’t laugh as easily anymore, how you seemed to put distance between yourself and everything they shared.

“Hey,” Jisung said softly one evening, after Seyeon had gone to bed. You were sitting by the window, watching the snow fall in silence. He sat down beside you, his hand gently brushing yours. “What’s going on with you?”

You looked away, your fingers tightening around the edge of your sweater. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

He frowned, his brows knitting together in concern. “baby, come on. You’ve been like this all week. I know something’s bothering you.”

You let out a breath, your gaze fixed on the snow falling in the distance. “It’s just... Seyeon’s mother.”

Jisung sighed, leaning back in his chair. “I should’ve known. I told you, I’ll handle her. You don’t have to deal with her alone.”

You shook your head, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s not just her. She’s been trying to make me feel like an outsider. And it’s working.”

Jisung’s expression softened, his frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “She doesn’t get to dictate how we feel, love. You’re important to us. To Seyeon and me.”

“I know that,” you said quietly, your voice trembling. “But it doesn’t feel that way when she keeps pushing me away.”

“I see it too,” he admitted, his hand squeezing yours gently. “She’s been petty, and it’s not right. But you can’t let her win by pulling away from me too.”

You glanced at him, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice. “I don’t want to hurt you,” you said softly, your voice breaking. “But I can’t keep pretending it doesn’t bother me.”

He let out a breath, leaning his forehead against yours. “You’re not pretending. I can see it. And it hurts me too.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you blinked rapidly, trying to hold them back. “I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath.

“We’ll figure it out together,” Jisung said firmly. “But you can’t shut me out. Not when I’m trying to make things better for you.”

“I’m scared,” you admitted, the weight of everything pressing down on your chest. “That no matter how much you try, it won’t ever be enough.”

Jisung cupped your face in his hands, tilting your chin up so your eyes met his. “Then let me try harder. Please angel.”

The sincerity in his voice broke something inside you, and you finally let the tears fall, your body trembling against his embrace. “I want to trust you,” you said, your voice a whisper. “But she makes it so hard.”

He held you tighter, his warmth enveloping you in a cocoon of love and comfort. “We’ll get through this,” he whispered against your hair. “I promise.”

The next morning, the cabin was quiet. Seyeon and her mother had gone for an early walk through the snowy woods, leaving the house blissfully empty. Jisung had spent the night thinking about how to make things right, how to remind you that he cared—truly cared—and that nothing his ex said could take that away.

When he found you sitting by the window, staring out into the snowy landscape with a distant look in your eyes, he knew it was time.

“Hey,” he said softly, gently nudging your shoulder. “What do you say we spend the day together? Just us.”

You glanced at him, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at your lips. “Just us?”

“Just us,” he confirmed, his eyes sincere. “Seyeon and her mom are out all day. It’ll just be you and me.”

You hesitated for a moment, the quiet tension in the air between you making it hard to let go of your worries. But then his hand reached for yours, steady and warm, and you felt your resolve soften.

“I’d like that,” you said softly.

The day was crisp and clear, the snow untouched, and the silence between you and Jisung was comfortable. You walked hand in hand through the frosted woods, your breath forming tiny clouds in the cold air.

“You don’t have to worry about her you know,” Jisung said quietly, breaking the silence. “Not today. Today is just about us.”

You nodded, letting his words settle into your heart. “It’s hard, though. Hard not to think about everything.”

“I know,” he murmured, pulling you a little closer. “But we don’t have to carry that weight right now. Let’s just be us.”

You both kept walking, the crunch of snow beneath your boots the only sound between you. The crisp air stung your cheeks, but Jisung’s warmth radiating from his coat and his hand in yours made you feel grounded.

After a while, he stopped walking, tugging you gently to a nearby bench tucked between the trees. You sat down together, the snow falling softly around you.

“This is nice,” you said, leaning into him slightly.

“Yeah,” he agreed, brushing a snowflake from your hair. “It’s perfect.”

For a while, you just sat in comfortable silence, the world around you feeling far away. Eventually, Jisung broke the quiet with a soft, playful nudge.

“So, what do you want to do next?” he asked with a smile, his voice teasing. “Snowball fight? Sledding?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re not going to win a snowball fight, Jisung.”

“Oh, you don’t know that,” he said with mock confidence. “I was a champion in school.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully shoving his shoulder. “You’re delusional.”

He laughed, his entire face lighting up. “Okay, fine. We’ll skip the snowball fight. But you owe me something fun.”

You looked up at him, your heart swelling at how easy it felt to be with him, to simply enjoy each other’s company. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“And you’re lucky you’re stuck with me,” he teased, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your temple.

Jisung held you close, his arm draped comfortably around you, and you let yourself sink into the warmth of his embrace, knowing that even if the world around you wasn’t perfect, this— him—was.

He drags you in the deep woods, making you giggle with a confused expression, “What are we doing now?”

Jisung’s smirk grows bigger when he grabs your waist gently, pushing you gently against a tree, his lips meeting yours. The sudden touch of his cold hands for the snow makes your skin tingle under his touch, “u-um..”

You don’t realise how much you missed your boyfriend’s attention until you are under him, in bed in the empty cabin in his room, with his head between your thighs. 

He sucks hard on your nub, feeling your writhe beneath him.

Jisung moans into your pussy as you pulls him closer, your taste filling his senses. He licks and sucks at your folds, his tongue delving deep inside your tight heat. His hands grip your thighs, keeping you spread open for his mouth.

His tongue flicks against your swollen bud, his fingers slipping inside you to curl up and stroke that spot that drives you wild.  “Mmm, you taste amazing baby...”

Jisung's skilled tongue explores every inch of your glistening folds, lapping at your sweet nectar like a man starved. He focuses on your sensitive bud, flicking and circling it rapidly before sucking it between his lips.

“i-i’m so close...” You gasp as you cover your mouth with your hand, your eyes roll back in pleasure.

Feeling your walls starting to flutter around his fingers, Jisung doubles his efforts. He seals his lips around your clit and sucks hard, his tongue vibrating against the sensitive nub as he pumps two fingers deep inside your, curling them to hit that perfect spot.

It doesn’t take you long after to cum, his tongue happy to clean you, his eyes meeting yours after that—it was the best head someone gave to you. He stands up between your thighs, looking down to your happy and now relaxed figure, “that’s my girl, all happy and smily.”

A few months had passed since that quiet trip, and life had settled back into its routine. Seyeon had grown closer to you, her attachment deepening as you spent more time with her, nurturing her and becoming a significant part of her life. The bond between the three of you felt natural, but you knew it wasn’t sustainable to keep your relationship with Jisung a secret from her forever.

One evening, after tucking Seyeon into bed, you found Jisung sitting by the fire with a tired smile on his face. The room was dimly lit, casting a warm glow over him. You approached slowly, sitting down beside him with a soft sigh.

“I think it’s time,” you said softly, breaking the silence.

Jisung’s brow furrowed slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a question. “Time for what?”

“For Seyeon to know about us,” you continued quietly. “About us as more than just... you know, me being her nanny.”

He inhaled deeply, considering your words. “You think she’s ready?”

You nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I do. She talks about you all the time. She knows you’re important to me, but I think it’s time she understands what that means. Fully.”

Jisung reached for your hand, threading his fingers gently with yours. “You’ve given this a lot of thought.”

“I have.” You squeezed his hand lightly. “It’s not just about us. It’s about Seyeon feeling secure and knowing that you love her, and that we love her together.”

He smiled softly, leaning in just slightly. “You’re right. She deserves to know. And I don’t want her to feel confused about what we mean to each other.”

“Exactly,” you agreed, squeezing his hand again. “We’ve built something special with her, and I don’t want to hide it anymore.”

Jisung leaned back into his chair, his gaze thoughtful as he considered your words. “It might be a bit overwhelming at first,” he admitted. “But I trust you. We’ll figure it out together.”

You smiled softly, your heart lighter than it had been in weeks. “I just want her to know that it’s okay to love both of us.”

He gave you a tender look, his thumb brushing across the back of your hand. “She’ll understand. You’ve been there for her in a way that goes beyond what anyone else could. And I couldn’t have asked for a better person to be by her side.”

The warmth of his words settled into your heart, and for the first time in a long while, you felt peace.

“We’ll tell her soon,” you said quietly, feeling a new sense of certainty. “Maybe even tomorrow.”

Jisung nodded, a soft smile playing at his lips. “Tomorrow it is.”

The next day, after breakfast, you and Jisung sat down with Seyeon in the living room. She was playing with her dolls on the carpet, her little giggles filling the space. You and Jisung exchanged a glance, both of you ready for the conversation that was about to change things.

“Seyeon,” Jisung began softly, settling beside her on the floor, “there’s something important we want to talk to you about.”

Seyeon paused, looking up at both of you with wide, curious eyes. “What is it, Daddy?”

You sat down next to Jisung, a gentle smile on your face. “Well, Seyeon, you know y/n, right?”

She nodded eagerly, her small hands clutching a doll close to her chest. “Yeah! y/n takes care of me and plays with me. I love her.”

Jisung smiled warmly. “We love you too, sweetheart. But there’s something else you should know. Y/n isn’t just here to take care of you. She’s a very important person in our lives. She’s someone we care about a lot, someone who loves us just like we love her.”

Seyeon blinked up at him, her little brows furrowing. “So… y/n is more than just my friend?”

You nodded. “That’s right. Jisung and I, we’re all like a family. And we want you to know that it’s okay to love all of us, even if it’s a little different from what you’re used to.”

The room grew quiet for a moment as Seyeon absorbed what you were saying. She stared at you both, her expression thoughtful, before breaking into a small smile. “I already love both of you. So, that’s okay, right?”

Jisung and you exchanged relieved glances, sharing a quiet laugh. “Yes, sweetheart,” Jisung said softly. “That’s more than okay.”

Seyeon clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling. “Then I don’t have to worry! I’m happy. I like having both of you.”

You and Jisung embraced her in a hug, the three of you tangled together in the warmth of love. “We’re happy too, Seyeon,” you whispered, your voice full of emotion.

Later that evening, Jisung held you close on the couch, Seyeon nestled between you both as a Disney movie played quietly in the background. She giggled at a funny scene, her little fingers clutching the popcorn bowl, as Jisung’s arm tightened around your shoulders.

“I thought she might not understand,” you admitted softly, feeling Jisung’s warmth seep into your bones.

“She’s smart,” Jisung replied, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “And you made it easy for her. She loves you more than you know.”

You smiled, leaning your head on his shoulder. “She loves both of us.”

“And that’s perfect,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

For the first time, the weight of uncertainty seemed to lift. Together, you and Jisung had built a family—one that was unique, imperfect, but full of love and understanding. And that was all that mattered.

The sun set gently over the quiet cabin, painting the sky in soft hues of pink and orange. The sound of a crackling fire filled the room, its warmth spreading through the space as you sat together with Jisung and Seyeon. She sat between you both, her small hands clasped tightly as she listened to a bedtime story Jisung was reading.

“And then, the prince and princess lived happily ever after,” Jisung finished, his voice smooth and comforting. He closed the book gently and kissed Seyeon’s forehead.

“Goodnight, Daddy,” Seyeon whispered sleepily, her eyelids fluttering closed.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Jisung murmured, tucking a blanket around her.

You watched quietly, a soft smile on your face as you ran your fingers through Seyeon’s hair. She was fast asleep in no time, her little breaths steady and peaceful. Jisung carefully carried her to her bed, placing her down gently and pulling the covers up to her chin.

Once she was tucked in, he returned to you, sitting beside you on the couch with a sigh of contentment. You leaned into him, your head resting against his shoulder as the fire continued to burn warmly in the hearth.

“I think she finally understands,” Jisung said softly, his voice low and affectionate.

You nodded, smiling up at him. “Yeah, she does. She loves us both so easily.”

“She’s lucky,” he said quietly, his arm wrapping around you. “Having two people who care about her like this. You’ve been amazing with her, baby.”

You gave him a small laugh. “Well, she makes it easy. How could I not love her?”

“She’s lucky,” he repeated, pulling you closer. “But so am I.”

The room settled into a peaceful stillness. Outside, the snow continued to fall gently, blanketing the world in white. Inside, it was warm and cozy, the only sounds being the crackling fire and the soft hum of your shared presence.

You and Jisung sat in comfortable silence, lost in the little moments of your own little family. This, right here—this calm, this love—was enough.

No matter what came next, you knew you had each other. And that was everything.

@chancloud8 @hanji-coffee .

[gothamhappiness]

You are my heaven (Bruce Wayne x f!reader) Part 2

It was supposed to be a little imagine of a dark and lonely Bruce Wayne switching place with another Bruce Wayne from a parallal universe, but I wrote more than I thought. It'll be into 2 parts, except if you ask for more. <3

You can find part 1 of this here.

Warnings: no proof reading, language, mention of blood and killing, angst/comfort

He met you up at the Italian restaurant and loved to place a hand on the small of your back. He loved even more how you instinctively leaned into his touch and side. He really couldn't go back to his world. This place was heaven, and he was going to take such good care of his new people.

He listened to everything you said and actually answered. He never checked on his phone and didn't show any sign of being in the rush. You noticed how relaxed he seemed. Just before the dessert, he even reached for your hand and gently kissed it. He openly flirted with you and did his best to make you laugh. It was his favourite sound, with your moans of pleasure.

"You're in a good mood today," You finally commented. "You even took the time to talk to the kids this morning. And not to order them stuff about patrol, " You whispered

It hit Bruce. Of course, the "kids" were the vigilantes he saw working with Batman. He couldn't imagine how amazing it must be to work with other people. To be the mentor of those people, too. Their leader. Maybe even their father? They were all so young, they clearly needed someone to be there for them. And you cared for them, like a mother.

"I... Last night was a little bit complicated, and I realise how lucky I am, that’s all," Bruce replied, hoping you might know something

"Yes, Dick and Cass told me you got attacked by that mad scientist and that he threw at you some weird potion. Luckily, nothing happened. You were a little bit dizzy when you came back home, and you instantly went to bed. I helped you undress, and you fell asleep on me, " You hummed. "Anyway, I'm happy if things…” You trailed off

“If things?” Bruce tried to get you to finish your sentence

“Could... be better, " You admitted and looked away

Bruce was speechless for a few moments. Were you saying that the Bruce of this world neglected his people? His own people? You? He fucking didn't deserve any of this then. It was making things so easy, no guilt, no mercy.

"What do you mean, love?" He asked with a tilt of the head. You still refused to meet his eyes as you answered:

"Well... You haven't been around a lot lately. I can't even remember the last time we had lunch together. And you... you aren't the nicest with the children... Jason came to see me for comfort after another argument with you. Steph had a nap with me on the couch after you pushed her too much during training..." You explained. 

You didn't want to ruin the moment, but you weren't too sure when you would be able to tell him about all of this. For once, he seemed open to the discussion and wasn’t distracted with his work. However, his silence worried you a little bit. Actually, Bruce was angry. It was obvious that the Bruce of this universe didn't know his luck. He was going to be better - oh, so much better - than him. It was a promise. He kissed your hand again

"I'm so sorry. I'll do better. With everyone." He told you, and you finally looked at him, astonished. You had expected some justifications or denials, not this.

"I'm so... relieved. Maybe you could have a little talk with all the kids? And I know that your relationships with the members of the Justice League were getting tense, too. We haven't invited the Kents at home in so long." You babbled. 

Bruce could tell how much you cared about the family and that you decided to push your luck. You wanted your children to be happy, and you wished for Bruce to do better with his friends as well. You were so caring. Bruce was falling even deeper in love with you, and he didn’t think that was possible.

"I will. I promise. What about us?" He asked. 

Of course, he was going to do his best for all those people he didn't know yet, but what he wanted the most was to be a good husband to you. He had fantasied about your life together so badly, and now that it was happening, it needed to be perfect.

You didn't reply right away, trying to quickly think.

"What about us?" You finally said

"I haven't been the best to you either," Bruce guessed

"You saw the divorce papers I asked from our lawyer, didn't you?" You internally cursed yourself. You should have been better

Bruce silently panicked but didn't show anything. Oh the fucker was really ruining everything. He needed to make you forget about this divorce. You were finally his wife, he wasn't going to lose you or let you go. You were his, like he belonged body and soul to you.

"Love,..." He started, but you cut him off

"I was just thinking about it, but I... I don't want to leave the family. It was just in case things went downhill, " You explained, a little bit concerned of what the man was thinking

"It won't," He reassuringly smiled at you

"What?"

"It won't go downhill. I'll do anything you all need from me. I'm so lucky to have all of you in my life. I can't take this luck for granted. I'll do better, " He promised

You weren't too sure Bruce wasn't lying, but you wanted to believe him so badly.

Bruce found a folder with information on all the people in Bruce's life on the batcomputer, and he was grateful for that. It allowed him to know about his history with everyone and to act on consequences. He did talk to everyone and tried to make things better. He apologised and offered his help. He took some time for everyone. He showed he was eager to make an effort. He showed he wanted everyone to be happy around him. He showed he was there for his people.

He also found the mad scientist.

He interrogated him in Arkham Asylum. The man hadn't thought a new Batman would come. He just thought it would send the Dark Knight into another world, and that was it. Bruce asked if there was a way to get the real Bruce back. The mad scientist refused to answer at first before admitting that yes, there was. After all, portals could go both ways. Bruce went to the scientist's repair and destroyed everything before paying hitmen to kill the man. There was no way he would come back to Hell. No way. He would even kill the former Bruce himself if he had to.

The night he came back from the scientist’s repair, he was his most charming self to you, bringing you a beautiful necklace full of diamonds. As he helped you put it on, he complimented you and kissed your skin. He seduced you all night.

In the bath with you, his hands never left your skin. He gently washed your body and hair. He tenderly massaged cream onto you. He covered you in kisses until you would giggle under his nonstop attention. You truly hoped Bruce would keep acting like that because you were falling back in love with him. Hard. You were happy, and you clearly didn't want to get a divorce anymore.

A few days later, you and the children had lunch all together. Without Bruce.

You all decided that a conversation was a necessity because “what was going on with the man for fuck's sake?”. It was impossible he changed that much in such a short period of time. It was obvious something happened with the mad scientist. But weirdly enough, he was now dead and his work was destroyed...

"It's not Bruce," Tim finally said

"What do you mean?" You frowned

"It's not the Bruce we knew. From what I've been able to find, the scientist was studying portals through different parallel universe" Tim added

"You're saying that... He switched of Bruces from two different worlds?" You asked

"I think it's what happened, yes." Tim nodded, and you all stayed silent for a little while

"What do we do?" Duke asked

"This Bruce is nicer," Jason commented

"And more caring," Stephanie added

"But it is not our father." Damian frowned

"But he is acting like one..." Dick replied

"And like a husband." Cass added "His body language... He is so in love with you, Y/N… Like he would do anything for you."

"I... I know.” You paused “Maybe we all deserve some happiness"

“Are you saying we should pretend we don’t know anything? Barbara asked “It’s true that the Bruce we had was… challenging, but he all saved us. And kinda took care of us. We don’t know what this man will do in the long run” she added, and you were forced to agree with her

“Let me talk to him” You offered, and everyone agreed.

You weren’t too sure when it would be the right moment to speak with your new husband about the situation.

One evening, as you were snuggled up in his embrace, you felt like it was the right time. It was only the two of you, and the day has been quite good for Bruce, so he was relaxed. You kissed his collarbone to bring his attention back to you. He instantly put his book down to look at you.

"Yes, love?" He hummed

“Who are you?” You whispered with a bite of your bottom lip

“What? You know who am I” Bruce pretended to laugh it off, but he tensed a little bit

“You’re different. The kids are little detectives, and they think you are coming from a parallel universe. And… I can believe that” You explained

“Why?” 

“Because my husband liked me, but never worshipped me like a divinity of love” You softly smiled

“Well, he should have” Bruce groaned

“So, this is true, right? You came from another universe. And the man I married is there, instead of you?” You asked

Bruce cupped your face and leaned his forehead against yours. He had been the happiest man in the world the past few weeks. He finally had everything he ever wanted and needed. He would sell his soul in exchange for keeping this life. He was terrified you would cast him away.

“He didn’t deserve you. Any of you. I guess he’s there, yes, but I don’t really know. And I don’t care. I want to stay here. Haven’t I been good to you? Don’t you want to keep me? Haven’t I been better than he was?” He pleaded.

You heard the fear and despair in his voice.

“Your world isn’t as nice as here then?” You asked 

“My Alfred died when I turned 18, so I never had the time to adopt any of the children. I did my best as Batman and CEO of Wayne Enterprises, but I’m alone and lonely. Maybe I fucked up too, because my life is a just a mess. I don’t know, but this is Heaven and my world is Hell.”

“We’re not married either?” You wondered

“I’m too much of a loser to interest you. No matter how madly in love I am with you. No matter how much I’ve always wanted to worship you. I’m so happy to finally have you as my wife. I’ll always cherish you.” He admitted and promised

You stayed silent, not knowing what to do anymore. This place was clearly a fresh and happy start for the man in front of you. But what about the Bruce Wayne of this world? Wasn’t it a cruel punishment to leave him in such a lonely place? At the same time, you weren’t sure the man you married would even take care of you like you now were. And you would miss that very much. The children deserved a better father, too. Jason actually started to hang out with this new Bruce. And now Jason knew it wasn’t the same man who betrayed him. Their relationship would be even better. There were so many advantages...

“Keep me” The man begged you “I’ll do anything you want” He whispered again

“I… do want you to stay. But I feel awful knowing he is in your world. Alone.” You admitted

“I can make you forget about him” Bruce offered before kissing you, his thoughts on ways to make everyone forget about the “real” Bruce Wayne.

He was going to stay in Heaven, no matter the price, no matter the sacrifice, no matter what. You kissed him back before gently pushing him away.

“What if he comes back?” You asked “Would you hurt him?” You continued

Bruce didn’t answer, so you knew he would kill him without hesitation. He was a love, attention, and touch starved man. He knew what it was to be so broken that nothing could work out. 

“Barbara and Damian… They need some convincing to not find a way and save the Bruce we knew. I still feel bad but… if I loved him, I know I’ve never felt for him what I’m feeling for you” You whispered

Bruce’s eyes lit up. Being loved by you because he was Bruce Wayne was a thing, but being loved by you because of who he was was so much better. He didn’t know what to say, so he deeply kissed you over and over again.

“Love you, love you so much. You’ll be happy with me. Everyone will be happy with me.” He whispered in between kisses

“You promise?” You breathlessly asked 

“I promise, my love”

--

Part 3

--

Taglist for all my work <3

@blublock404

Taglist for this series <3

@bat1212

[aayakashii]

I received a super cute ask requesting a hc of the Jabberwock boys getting a plushie from the MC, but tumblr effed up my post for some reason?? So I'm posting again!

ANON THAT WAS SUCH A CUTE REQUEST AND I LOVED WRITING IT!!! ⸜(*ˊᗜˋ*)⸝ Thank you for sending it!! I based each plushie on the animal that's been assigned to their chibis, I hope that's okay!

How Jabberwock boys react after receiving a cute little plushie from MC

Otonashi Towa – bee plushie

Towa is a little bit confused because plushies aren't a huge part of his life and he never really played much with any.

But receiving anything from you makes him very happy because you're one of his favorite people, so he loves it regardless!!

He loved getting a little chubby bee because bees like flowers and he likes flowers so!! They're basically the same!

Towa likes his new little friend so much that he keeps it on him 24/7, even when he's frolicking in the Jabberwock meadows.

Which in turn makes the plushie all damp and dirty, but please don't be upset!

He tries giving it a bath every now and then, but having fun outside is one of the things he loves the most...

So the fact that he takes your gift with him every single time just means he treasures it a lot!!

He keeps on putting dandelions on the bee though, so keeping it clean is a hard task. But it's all because it remembers him of you! He has no regrets.

Speaking of regrets, be ready to get a teary-eyed Towa handing you the plushie, asking you to sew it back together after some bad encounter with an anomaly from time to time...

He will take a lot more care next time!! He promises!

Shiranami Ren – shark plushie

At first, he's gonna look at you like you grew three heads all of a sudden.

Why would you give him a cute gift like that? Do you want something from him???? Also does he look like someone who likes plushies cmon MC-

Yes. Yes, he does love plushies. And he is absolutely in love with your gift.

Ren will mostly keep his new friend inside his room, away from prying eyes (Haru's eyes, he means).

But after a while, he might stuff it inside his backpack whenever he has an exam or something hard he gotta do, because he considers it his moral support (also it is adorable and looking at cute things is great for your health-)

Mostly, however, they'll hang out together inside his room. Ren will hug it while playing one of his mobile games, and he swears the plushie is giving him a little bit more luck when he pulls the gacha...

After a while, Ren might begrudgingly ask you if you know how to sew little clothes, because he saw online how some people buy tons of clothes for their nuis and he kinda wants to do the same...

Don't laugh though! It took him a whole lot of courage to come ask this of you! He'll kick you out of his guild if you laugh!

Please sew clothes for his shark friend. Ren wants little cosplays of his favorite games and you're the only one who gets him.

Sagara Haru – kangaroo plushie

Oh no MC. YOU ARE GIVING HIM A NEW CHILD?????

"Why didn't you tell me you were expecting our kid?! I will take full responsibility, let's get married and take care of him together and–"

"Haru. That's literally just a plushie I sewed for you."

"Haha, I know!! I'm just joking, I'm just joking!! You ARE the other parent, though."

Needless to say, Haru absolutely loves it to death, and he WILL keep making jokes like that forever, even if you two are just friends and never even smooched.

He also takes it everywhere, but mostly because Peekaboo loved the plushie just as much as him and is convinced he is a big brother.

Like father, like son...

Peekaboo insists Haru puts the little plushie right beside him on his baby wrap, just the head peeking out so it can "breathe and watch everything" properly.

With all the hard work Haru does, the plushie also gets a bit dirty, but he cleans it thoroughly almost everyday! Can't have his youngest son dirty, right?

Haru lets Peekaboo keep it during the day, but during the night, he takes it to bed with him, on the rare occasions in which he sleeps for more than 3 hours

He loves cuddling his plushie son and might ask you someday to make more friends for it!

Of course, he does that by joking about how you two are ready to expand the family, and how he would like to have more kids. He's just a silly goofy guy like that.

[flamingpudding]

Ghost Twins: Lost in Gotham

A/N: I finally got my copy of AGIT and it sparked this prompt idea, I might continue on...

"Of all the times why were we thrown into a different dimension…"

"I am not happy about this either, twerp."

Danny gave his body double a scorching glare. Dan only shrugged as he leaned back into the park bench, hiding a chuckle. Even if the situation was dire, it was kind of funny too. Good things had changed so much since he got a human body. Danny had become more of a brother to him than his nemesis or time original, especially since Danny had gotten the crown and was trying to smooth things over for ghosts and humans. Plus he finally understood why Jazz like to tease them so much as her younger siblings. He got to tease his time original / cousin / 'younger' brother now too, well he did see himself as the older one when they could technically pass as twins.

"We are stuck looking like this! Our powers don't work and I can't open a portal, Dan!"

"And what do you want me to do about it? Clockwork is not responding to either of us."

Dan studied Danny who was still pacing in knee-high snow, then looked down at his hand which was smaller than he remembered. He tried reaching out to his ghost powers but nothing responded. From the corner of his eyes, he noticed Danny stopping his pacing and looking back at Dan, his voice soft from resignation.

"What is the last thing you remember?"

"It's... nothing." I don't remember what I did last. Why do you ask?"

"It's the same for me. We are stranded for some unknown reason in an entirely different Dimension in six-year-old bodies, with no clue or solution to get home and our ghost powers being all wonky as shit! And clockwork won't react to us yelling his name into the snowstorm we are currently in! At least we are cold-resistant!"

Danny resumed pacing in the snow, kicking random little snow hills he was making with his pacing as he ranted. Dan was watching him from the park bench with a scowl of his own. Both had found themself waking up to each other in a pile of snow in a park that was located in a city they had no idea about, the only thing they had was a green sticky note with the words 'Code Bat: Different Dimension'.

That led to Danny yelling for clockwork into the starting snowstorm. They knew their powers weren't completely gone. Wherever they were they were in a place with a lot of ambient ectoplasm.

"We should look for a way out of the snow twerp. Even with cold resistance, we should stay out here." Dan huffed as he tried to make out the buildings around them outside of the park, Danny instantly stopped pacing tilting his head.

"Where should-"

Both boys yelled in absolute horror as they suddenly got picked up and were carried like a sack of potatoes under the arms of strange guys. Instincts kicked in and the two instantly fought back but the guys carrying them didn't appear to be bothered.

The wind whisked past their ears making hearing anything difficult until they finally got put down next to each other. Instantly Dan took half a step before Danny, glaring at the ones that abducted them from a park. "Who the fuck are you, guys?!"

"Language kid. And I should be asking what the fuck you little kids were doing out in the middle of the worst Snowstorm Gotham had in a long time?" The guy in a red helmet said towering over them with crossed arms. "I know you street rats are smarter than staying out in the open like this. Don't you kids have a shelter?"

Street Rats? Okay, so what if their clothes looked a little ratty? Hold a second. Danny and Dan looked at each other briefly as if for the first time noticing how worn the clothes they had looked compared to what they were used to wearing. Great so not only were they in twin six-year-old bodies but also wearing such worn-out clothes that people saw them as street rats.

"None of your fucking business." Dan retorted, the fun of the situation now gone and anger and frustration settling in as he glared at their abductors. Danny on the other hand tilted his head miming the confused child as he stared up at them.

"We got lost."

"You got lost?" The other guy in blue with a mask asked them unbelieving and Danny only nodded.

"Yup, we got lost."

Dan watched how the two adults playing dress up exchanged glances. He peaked back at Danny and then back at them. Before making a probably short-sighted decision.

"Fuck this!" He said out loud and grabbed his twin's hand. Once more he reached for his ghost core and powers, internally yelling at it to get a response. And it worked, sort of.

He felt intangibility wash over them so he attempted to escape by phasing him and Danny through the ground only… to get halfway stuck as the old on his ghostly powers got lost. Dan's eye twitched as he realized he was stuck in the ground up to his tights.

"Dan what the fuck?!" Danny who was now stuck knee-deep into the floor yelled.

"I was at least attempting to escape!"

"We are stuck now! This is even worse! You could have just let me talk our way out of this!"

"Oh hell no. I remember the others saying often enough that you should not do the talking!"

"Phasing us through the floor is not better at all! Our powers are wonky or did you forget that?!"

While the twin boy's where fighting Nightwing and Red Hood exchanged worried glances.

"Hood…"

"Yea… Probably Meta Twins on the run."

"I will contact the others."

[azzo0]

Summary: Bakugo Katsuki, your childhood best friend, your guard and the man you love most. You're aware he harbours the same feelings for you. Unfortunately, he doesn't deem himself worthy of your love because all he has to offer is his heart and soul. He can't have you, not when there are men far richer and caring than him, waiting to give you the life you deserve.

Pairing: Bakugo x f!reader

Warnings: mild nsfw, angst with happy ending, bakugo is a little insecure, reader and Bakugo are from a tribe and are 20, half-assed in some places because I lost motivation to finish this four months ago. Idk where I was going with this one.

wc: 4.9k

song: Here with me- by d4vd

Bakugo Katsuki's been by the chief's daughter's side for as long as he can remember. His father was the chief's personal guard, so he was trained to guard the chief's daughter, you. Before he was too young to start training, he played with your silly wooden dolls, took baths in the lake with you, played dress up and whatnot. He was your first best friend. Someone who wasn't afraid to interact with you just because you were the chief's daughter.

Once he was a little older, his father started training him, but that didn't stop him from visiting your tent before curfew and spending time with you. You guys were too old for toys and playing house now. Instead, he listened to you read a book for him or tell him about your day and why you find everyone in the tribe so annoying. After you were done with your ramble, he'd tell you about how his training was going. Each time, he vowed he'd be the one selected as your guard and replace the 'shitty' one you currently had. His ears and cheeks went rosy whenever you giggled and told him you were sure he'd win the competition. He rolled his eyes at it, but on the inside, he was a mush. It pushed him to train harder because he wanted to defeat all the men who would compete to be your guard. 

He's everywhere you are once he absolutely destroys everyone in the competition. Outside your tent as you're deep asleep, accompanying you when you go to the other tribes with your father or when you go hunting. He knew your habits and nature like the back of his hand by now.  He loves his job, but he really hates how distracted he is by the person he's supposed to be protecting. 

Even now, his eyes kept trailing to you, studying you for a few seconds too long before returning his attention to the surroundings. He reminded himself that he was here to protect you, or he could lose his position by your side to someone else. He can't help it when you look so damn beautiful sitting on a cloth by the lake, reading some stupid book. Since when did he start looking at you like that? He brushed away the fact that you've always made his heart race. Even when you guys were kids. You've always had this effect on him.

He has to remind himself to not let these feelings out. He keeps them caged inside of him. What's the point of letting them out when you will one day get married to a man far wealthier and caring than him? He was just your guard. Nothing more.

He sneaked a glance at you again—one last time—only for his heart to leap out of his chest when he saw you already looking at him. His face heated up when your lips tugged up on the sides in a smile. You waved at him and motioned for him to come over. 

"Yes?" He questioned, towering over you with the spear on his side. You felt your chest swarm with butterflies as you looked up at the man you spent your entire childhood with. 

"Sit with me, Katsuki. Don't you ever get tired of standing and glaring at nothing?" You said, patting the empty space beside you. 

"No, It's my job," he replied, "And no, I can't sit with you."

"Oh, come on," You grabbed his hand and roughly pulled him down, "Don't worry about father, no one's going to see you here." 

"But-"

You put an index on his lips, the blush on his pale cheeks not going unnoticed, "Hush, Katsuki. You're not losing your job. If you do, I'll shed a few tears and get it back for you." 

He gave in and sat beside you, his back rigid. You two sat in silence with the sun shining down, the only sounds being the rustle of the leaves, birds chirping, and the lake flowing by.

He allowed himself to look at you again. Cardinal eyes took their time exploring your features, basking in the sun. From your hair to your forehead, where an elegant diadem sat, to your nose and your lips, he so desperately wanted to brush with his. 

You closed the book with a snap, almost startling him and shooting him a bright smile. He listened to you tell him about how annoying your father was being these days as he tried to convince you to meet your suitors. His heart sank to his stomach. Of course, many men were waiting for you to choose them. You guys are at that age now, after all. He was going to watch you get married to some chief's son, leave the tribe, and live your own life. You'd never look back at him because he was just a stupid guard. He convinced himself there were men far richer and more handsome than him, waiting to take your hand and treat you to the best life you deserved. But that man wasn't him. He made a move to leave, freezing when he felt a heavy weight in his lap. 

He looked down to see you had put your head in his lap, your eyes already closed. Despite the sorrow in his chest, he smiled. He knew you liked napping in the afternoons. He stayed for a few minutes longer, aware he could have his head chopped off if one of the chief's men found him like this. He removed the diadem from your head so you were more comfortable and got up, taking off his red fur cloak and folding it. He put it under your head as a makeshift pillow. He sat on his knees, brushing your cheek with the back of his fingers as you slept, so ethereally beautiful. 

He picked up his spear and stood guard again to protect the woman he loved most, unaware she dreamt of being in his arms as she slept.

It was another sunny day when Bakugo stood outside the chief's tent with two other guards while you were busy inside with your father. His heart felt so heavy. He wanted to throw up. This morning, the tribal chief and his son from a neighbouring land had come to ask for your hand. He knew he'd lost you the moment he saw the chief's son. He stood weary, doing his job, aware that the moment you walked out of that tent, you'd never glance back at him again. Not when you had that annoyingly handsome man by your side. A man who could give you the world you deserved.

What he didn't expect, however, was you running out of the tent with the roaring voice of your father demanding you to get back inside. Your eyebrows were knitted together as you stomped down the wooden stairs, hurling curses at all the men in the tent. Bakugo sprang to your side instantly, concerned for what had happened inside, almost jogging after you as you sped to your tent. 

He stepped inside after you, watching you fall into your bed of blankets and furs, head buried in a pillow. He kneeled by your bed and put a hand on your back. 

He forgot how much he hated seeing you cry, "Y/n," how long had it been since he last used your name? It was only 'my lady' or a sarcastic 'princess' ever since he was selected as your personal guard, "What happened?"

You peeked at him from the pillow. His forehead was free from creases, and his eyes were soft. 

You sat up, sniffling, "Father wants me to marry that stupid chief's son to strengthen ties," You wiped your eyes, spoiling the kohl that had been applied to your lids this morning with precision, "He won't take no for an answer. I don't want to ruin my life just for strengthening some stupid ties."

There was thick silence. Bakugo gulped as he looked into your eyes. His heart was joyous with your answer, but there was still an empty pit deep within him, "Why?" he asked.

"I just told you why," You frowned, "I'm not marrying some random man I feel nothing for."

You stared at Katsuki, searching for a reaction on his face. You almost wanted to shake him by the shoulder and scream at him, 'I don't want another man when I have you.' Your face flushed when you saw his eyes dart down to your lips for a split second. 

Katsuki looked away from your face, eyes settling on your knees instead, "He's perfect for you."

"No, he's not," you scoffed.

"Why are you being so stubborn?" He raised his voice, "Don't you get he's going to take great care of you? He's going to give you everything you deserve."

"What's the point if I don't love him?" 

"You're the chief's daughter, Y/n. You knew this had to happen sooner or later." He stared into your eyes as if he was trying to knock some sense into you. You didn't get why he was being so pushy about the matter in the first place. It was unlike him.

"You sound like father right now. Stop it." You snapped, "Why are you being so pushy, huh? You think I don't know what you actually want to say?"

Bakugo's eyes hardened and narrowed at you defensively, "I don't know what you're talking about."

You put a hand on his shoulder and forced him back on his knees again when he tried to stand up. You grabbed a handful of the fur on his red cloak, the one he'd let you borrow countless times when it was raining outside or when the breeze was too chilly, "You think I don't notice the way you look at me? Do you think I don't see the blush on your face when we talk? I'm not dumb. You like me. So stop spewing shit that goes against what you feel."

Bakugo was dumbfounded as he glared at you with cheeks and ears as red as his eyes. He wanted to deny you. He wanted to tell you you were delusional, but his throat betrayed him. 

"What does that have to do with your proposal?" He scowled.

"It has everything to do with my proposal, for fucks sake!" you yelled, "I like you too, but you're too busy thinking you're not worthy of being by my side!"

His poor heart couldn't take the attacks you unleashed on him one after the other. You liked him too? Even though he had nothing but his heart and loyalty to offer you? You were right about the last bit of your confession. He wasn't worthy of being by your side. Not as your lover. 

"You're right," he mumbled, standing up. He turned around and went to the entrance to your tent, raising the flaps, "I ain't worthy of bein' by your side. You deserve a man that spoils you rotten and gives you the world. That man ain't me."

"Katsuki..."

"I'm fine with just being your guard. So put your feelings away 'cause I'm not the man you're meant to be with." With that, he stepped out of your tent to stand guard again, and your father's men begged you to go back to his tent again. 

With no fight left, you half-heartedly agreed to their pleas. You stopped to glance at Katsuki before going after the men. His eyes were set straight ahead of him with a stone face.

He wouldn't look at you.

Bakugo's heart ached as he trailed a little distance behind you and your soon-to-be fiancé, Keiji. You had signed the papers without a word after the fit you threw over the proposal a week earlier, and now your engagement ceremony was only four weeks away. He wanted to chop off his own head with the sword when you let out a sweet laugh at a joke Keiji made. 

He hated the way the stupid man's hand rested on your waist. He hated the way he looked down at you with hungry eyes. He hated his flawlessly handsome face you were smiling for, but Bakugo was in no position to intervene. He chose this. He chose to let you out of his grasp for someone better. 

You and Bakugo had not spoken to each other since the confessions in the tent. If your eyes happened to meet his, he'd look away like he never saw you in the first place. He simply stood still as a statue and did his job like the other guards. You almost wanted to beg him to talk to you just so you could hear his raspy voice again, but being the stubborn woman, you were, you refused to talk to him first and went and signed the damn papers even though you absolutely hated this man blabbing your ear off as you took a walk around the perimeter of the tribe.

Bakugo watched you giggle and accept a flower Keiji had plucked from a bush. 'She hates that flower, you dickhead,' Bakugo wanted to screech. 

He clicked his tongue and forced himself to look away from you two. At least you were warming up to that stupid man. Or so he thought. He kept telling himself he'd be okay as long as you were happy. 

You were on the verge of tears as you crept through the woods with an archery bow and arrows. You wanted your horse to kick Bakugo with her hind legs. You had signed the papers in hopes Katsuki would change his mind, and now there was only one week till the engagement ceremony. You guys still hadn't uttered a word to eachother. The only reason he was following you here was out of obligation. 

You went still when you spotted a deer. Slowly, you took out an arrow from the quiver strapped to your back and took aim, hoping to land the shot this time. A twig underneath your foot crunched, and the deer's head snapped towards you before it jumped away. Frustrated, you threw the arrow down. You heard a snicker behind you and glanced back, giving Bakugo a glare to make him shut up. 

"You've wandered too far in," He stated. His voice felt foreign.

"Now you've decided to talk?" You snorted, stomping up to him and snatching the reigns of your horse. 

"It's time to head back," he said plainly. 

"You don't get to order me around," You mounted your horse and went deeper into the woods, completely ignoring him. 

Bakugo ran a hand down his face and followed you. You could be really childish at times. He was going to be the one getting in trouble if you got back home late. You were usually exemplary at hunting, but he could tell you were distracted today. He knew the reason for your distraction, too. His chest felt hollow when he thought of you being finally betrothed and taken away. He was questioning his choices now, but it was too late. He was sure you already liked your fiancé by now. 

He felt a drop of water fall on his nose and wiped it away. After a few more drops fell, he looked up at the sky, partly covered by the thick canopy of leaves. It was raining. 

"Oi," He called, "It's rainin'. Get back here."

By the time you steered your horse towards Bakugo's, the rain had grown heavier. The clouds had made it difficult to move through the forest due to the lack of light. Bakugo tried to navigate his way through the darkness and failed. There was no point in trying to start a fire because the rain would put it out anyway. He heard you let out a small curse. He hopped off his horse and took off his cloak, throwing it at you. 

"I don't need it." 

"Shut the fuck up and put it on," Bakugo rolled his eyes. You gave him an ugly stare and wrapped his warm and furry cloak around your shoulders. You wished he'd stop doing things that made your heart swoon so you could hate him.

He took your horse's reins and hopelessly tried to look for a way out. It was of no use, "Well, fuck." he sighed.

"Katsuki, look at that!" He followed the direction of your finger and squinted, trying to look through the rain. It was a shelter cabin and a stable, "Finally. Let's stay there till the rain stops."

You nodded in agreement and left your horse beside his in the stable. Luckily, it had doors, so the horses wouldn't get cold. Bless whoever built this shelter. Katsuki climbed up the logs stacked on top of eachother as makeshift steps and opened the door to complete darkness. You followed after him, leaving the door open as he fumbled with the fireplace, trying to start a fire. After a few tries, the cabin lit up in orange and red hues. You finally closed the door. 

You watched him get up, your eyes falling on his white shirt, now see-through from being wet. It clung to his skin, giving you a fine view of his muscles. The rain had made his wheat blonde hair droop down. He noticed your flustered state and strode up to you cocking his head, "Something the matter, princess?"

You held his scarlet gaze as he undid his buttons, his lips tugged up on one side in the smallest smirk, well aware of the effect he was having on you. He took off his shirt and put it on a chair in front of the fireplace to let it dry. You had no intentions of taking off your clothes, even if they made you squirm in irritation. 

"Oi, come sit here," Bakugo pulled another chair in front of the fire, "You'll catch a cold." 

"Why do you care?" You felt bad for being snappy, but you were also mad at him for ghosting you for three whole weeks and then talking to you as if nothing happened. Bakugo bared his teeth in a snarl and took slow steps towards you, making you back away into the door. 

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you need to snap at every damn thing I say?" He growled. 

"What the fuck is wrong with me? I should be asking you that question!" You yelled, trying to push him away, "Katsuki, you can't just not talk to me for three whole weeks and then expect everything to be normal!"

"Well, what else do you want me to do? Cheer for you and that fucking Keiji?"

"That's why you're not talking to me?" You sneered, "You did this to yourself, Katsuki."

"But you're happy, ain'tcha? Then go kiss his ass, and don't fucking worry about me." He turned around to lay in the furs, stopping when you spoke again. 

"Do I look happy to you, Katsuki?" You said, your voice small, "What made you think I'm happy with the fact I'm going to be betrothed to him? I signed the papers so you'd come back to me, you fucking idiot."

He slowly turned around to see you tighten his cloak around your shoulders, "I'm not marrying him." 

"Why are you like this?"

"How can I marry another when you're here with me, Katsuki?"

"I have nothing to give you, Y/n. I'm just a guard with a little tent and my heart to offer. Keiji-"

"I'm sick of hearing that name. Stop. I'm not after your treasures or luxuries. I want you. Why don't you see that?! Why do you keep comparing yourself to other men like that? I love you for who you are, not for what you have." 

He took quick steps towards you and slammed his lips against yours. Your eyes widened at the feeling of his rough lips pressing on yours. He pulled away for a few short seconds to see your reaction. You wasted no time throwing your arms around his neck and connecting your mouth to his again. 

His body pressed against yours, pushing you onto the door behind you. Your lips were warm. So warm and soft. He pushed his mouth further onto yours, your teeth clashing with his. His cloak fell off your shoulders, pooling around your feet. You tried not to gasp when his warm and wet muscle slipped into your mouth and danced around.

"Fuck," His hands travelled down your back and behind your thighs to lift you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and he buried his nose under your jaw, lips brushing your skin, "I fucking love you," He confessed against your jugular. 

He didn't wait for a reply and stole the air out of your lungs again. You pulled away, gasping with your head thrown back as he gave all his attention to your neck, "I love you too, Katsuki." His mouth was on yours again, kissing you like you were the very oxygen he needed to survive. 

"I don't want to see you with another," He panted in between kisses, "I can't let you marry someone that isn't me."

"You're such an idiot," You grinned, "If you would have said that before, I wouldn't have to sign the papers."

"Signed 'em for my attention, eh?" He smirked, brushing his nose with yours. You kissed him again, this time more fiercely. Your legs tightened around his torso, and you moaned into his mouth. 

"Oi," he warned. 

You put your feet on the ground and steered him towards the furs piled up like a bed, almost tripping a few times. You pushed him down and straddled his lap, leaving a trail of kisses along the length of the scar on his shoulder. 

"Desperate, huh?" He smirked when he felt you grind against him, frantic for friction. He flipped you to the other side so he was the one towering over you. He teased the buttons of your shirt, still soaked from the rain. 

"You're testing my patience," You gritted your teeth, slapping away his hands playfully and undoing the buttons yourself. Bakugo was left star-struck as he gaped at the sight of you laid out so beautifully in front of him. He went beet red, all his cockiness running down the drain. He wasn't sure of what to do with himself now. Noticing his daze, You giggled and pulled him down into you. 

You two made love with the pitter-patter of the rain on the roof and the sounds of crackling thunder. Neither of you seemed to notice the storm raging outside, so engrossed in each other's warmth and desire. The world around you seemed to have been blurred, with the only focus being you, him, and the chants of 'I love you' he murmured into your ear.

"Where were you two?" Your father demanded the next morning, his nostrils flaring when he noticed the bruises on both of your necks. The clothes you wore covered very little of the artwork you guys had made on eachother last night. 

"We got caught up in the storm," you explained. "We found a cabin in the woods and stayed the night."

"Stayed the night to betray your fiancé?" You held your father's stern glare, narrowing your eyes at him. "Do you realise what you have done? And you, Bakugo Katsuki. What made you think you could pounce on my daughter the minute you had an opportunity?"

Katsuki remained on the floor on one knee, head low out of respect. He dared to look up at the chief, who was already staring at him murderously. Katsuki cursed internally and looked at the carpet again. You guys were in so much trouble. 

"Katsuki did nothing," You said, trying to keep your cool, "And I haven't betrayed Keiji because I am not betrothed to him yet."

"Your engagement ceremony is in six days!" Your father's voice boomed, "And you gave yourself away to a useless guard?"

"Katsuki is not a useless guard!" You snapped, "He's saved me from an assassination attempt twice if your rotten old brain can remember."

"You are talking to your father and to the chief." He seethed, "Mind your language. What he did was nothing impressive. Protecting you is his job," his eyes shifted to Bakugo, a muscle in his jaw flickering, "not sleeping in bed with you."

Bakugo looked up with guilt flooding his chest. He hadn't thought of the consequences last night, "Chief-"

"Silence!" He stood up, looking down at Bakugo. Your heart sank when he called for the guards outside the tent to take Bakugo away. 

"Father, no!" 

"This is what's best for you."

Two guards held Bakugo by his arms as he attempted to get out of their grip. You pushed away the guards with tears in your eyes, trying your best to free him. 

"Sit down, Y/n." Your father commanded. You ignored him and swung your fist at one of the guard's noses, taking him by surprise. Your fingers tightened around Bakugo's arm, and you pulled him up, having him stand by your side. You scowled at the guards, "Stay away."

 "Don't be stupid. That man isn't worth your time." Your father said, "Let the guards take him away. I'll punish him as I see fit."

"No one's taking him away, and you're not punishing him," You said firmly, "You're calling off the engagement ceremony with Keiji because Katsuki's the one marrying me."

Despite the situation, Bakugo couldn't help it when his ears flared red. You were serious about him. He allowed himself to look at the chief in the eye and straighten his back. He dared to let his hand rest on your waist as your father burned with rage.

"Keiji is a rich man, far better than a guard you happen to be in love with. Marrying him is best for you as it will help strengthen ties with-"

"You're marrying me off to him because it will strengthen ties with his tribe. How is that the best for me? That's the best for you. And I don't care about how rich Keiji is because I want to marry Katsuki, and I'll have it no other way."

"Y/n-" He started, but you cut him off.

"Besides, didn't you marry Mom despite your parents wanting you to marry someone else?" You reminded. You watched your father's fists clench, "Then why are you trying to force me?"

There was dead silence in the tent as you and Katsuki stared at the chief while the guards stood there awkwardly. At last, your father took a step towards you, putting his hands behind him, "I suggest you think about it again."

"I've already made my decision."  

Your father's eyes shifted to Bakugo beside you, "How can I be sure you'll take care of my daughter?"

"I'm ready to sacrifice my life for her, Chief," Bakugo's head lowered slightly, "My heart and soul, they're all hers. I might not be as wealthy as her suitors, but rest assured, I'm still very capable of taking care of her."

You could see the uncertainty flash in your father's eyes. You lowered your voice, "Please, father."

After a few moments of hesitation, he let out a long exhale and put his hands on your and Katsuki's head, "You have my blessings. The engagement ceremony will still be held in six days but with you and Bakugo instead."

Bakugo's heart raced, and his hands pooled with sweat. It felt like a dream. He went on one knee and bowed, "Thank you, Chief."

"Keep her happy, Bakugo Katsuki." 

"I will," Bakugo nodded and stood up.

"Thank you, Father." You beamed. 

You watched your father's lips tug up on the smile in the faintest smile. He turned his back to you, "You may leave."

You broke out into a wide grin and took Bakugo's hand to leave the tent. Bakugo had to keep himself from laughing out loud as you almost hopped towards his tent. You turned around and faced him with wide eyes once you guys were inside, "We're getting engaged, Katsuki!"

"Yeah, we are." He smiled. 

"Are you crying?" You asked, noticing his eyes go glossy. 

"Shut up, I'm not!" He exclaimed, looking away from you with a sniffle. You giggled and hugged him tight, mushing your cheek on his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and buried his nose in your hair. You could feel your neck get wet, but you made a point not to mention it, letting him hold you for as long as he wanted instead. 

You were finally his. 

Roughly a year later, you sat on the bed of your and Katsuki's shared tent, thinking back on the day's events. You guys had gotten married just this morning. You toyed with the necklace around your neck, the one he'd given you a few hours ago after he said his oaths. You laughed to yourself, thinking of how he almost cried again when he lifted the veil from your head. You looked to your side when he sat beside you. 

"Ya good?" He asked. You nodded, and he took your hand, kissing the inside of your wrist. 

"I'm just so happy, Katsuki."

He shifted closer and cradled your face gently. "Yeah? I'm happy, too." He tucked some hair behind your ear and rested his forehead against yours, "I'll be happy for as long as you're here with me."

You couldn't help but smile when he brushed his lips with yours, "Me too, Katsuki."

[iron-strangers]

Dream a Little Dream of Me

Description: It's all true, Jedi can read minds. You've been trained to keep people's thoughts about you for so long. It went well until the day you caught Din's fantasy involving you.

Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Female Jedi!Reader

Series: Expanding Clan Mudhorn

Tags: Established Relationships, Mand’alor Din Djarin, A Sprinkle of Family Fluff, Sexual Fantasy, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex (f receiving), Unprotected p-in-v, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Lactation Kink

CW: Reader has AFAB characterization, uses she/her pronouns, is able-bodied, has depicted body changes related to pregnancy and breastfeeding, and hair that can be pulled during sex. No Use of Y/N. Consent Issues: Reader peaks into Din's fantasy. NSFW MINORS DNI

Length: 2.7k

-

According to urban legends, jedi can read minds. That's true, well, to an extent.

Jedi can read unshielded minds. A Jedi’s mental shield helps to prevent their minds so they’re not easily read, but also to prevent them from accidentally reading a non-force sensitive’s mind. This knowledge helped you survive being chased around the galaxy during the Empire’s reign. Imps are weak-minded and you could easily get any information you needed by reading their mind.

As you grew older, some thoughts people had about you turned sexual. Some got you blushing, like the one from a spacer who fantasized about sweet-talking you into having a quickie in the back of the cantina, some others were just plain disturbing and had you slamming a mental shield as quick as you can before fleeing the parameter with your blaster clutched in your hand.

During the old Jedi-Mandalorian war era, Mando'ade have found a way to keep the jetiise out of their head. Beskar helmets are effective for as long as you can remember, but apparently, there's a loophole. Beskar can't block a jedi who's already soul-bonded to a Mandalorian. There might not be any data about this, but let's be real, there's barely any noted soul bonds between a jedi and Mandalorian throughout history.

This explains the weird sync you and Din have. People have mentioned how you complete each other, that you have almost the same opinions on things, how you two always make the same decisions, both politically and on the battlefield. Some might even suggest that you and him finish each other's sentences. It's a cliché, written in teenager’s holonovels. So you're used to laughing it off, deflecting that you probably just spent too much time together, that between leading and parenting, agreeing on the same thing is just what spouses do. The Armorer called you ‘two halves of one warrior’ at your wedding ceremony. It should’ve ring an alarm in your mind, but in your defense, you were too busy getting swooned off your feet.

It became apparent one day when you met him in a small bakery, just a few minutes away from the Keldabe Palace, when he wasn’t supposed to be done until much later in the day. You’ve been craving Keshian Spice Rolls all day and you figured it was a great day to take the kids out, enjoy the sun and a little sweet treats, then surprise your hard-working riduur with a box of pastries back in the palace. Imagine your surprise when you stepped into a bakery and saw him already queuing.

“Rid’ika!” He called, waving to you from the line. You skipped over the lines, smiling and nodding to everyone as you made your way to your riduur. Din took Grogu from you so you can lift Aranar, who’s busy charming everyone off with his toothy grin, up.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, holding his offered hand. “You have to meet the Prince of Bespin in half an hour.”

“I know, but I heard they are baking Keshian Spice Rolls. So I went to buy you some.” Din shrugged, not once caring about the Prince having to wait for him to get back from spoiling his riduur. “And what about you? I thought you have a bes'kad class for the verd’ike this afternoon.”

“The class won’t start for another two hours and I really want a spice roll.”

You heard people behind you aww-ing and you buried your face into his shoulder, humming when you feel cool beskar against your blushing cheek. Din smiled behind his helmet, paying for three spice rolls to go, never once he let your hand go. You got back to the palace with twenty minutes to spare and herded the ad’ike to the Mand’alor’s office.

“Knock when you need him and don’t come in before I answer.” You rushed into the room when you spotted Kryze marching to stop you.

“You two better not be having se-”

“Young ears, Kryze! Manda, we’re just gonna eat Spice Rolls!” You held the pastry packages up for her to see, holding your laughter when you saw her scowling.

“Spice rolls better not be a code for something else, Djarin! You have a meeting in twenty minutes!”

Din closed the door on her face and you locked it with the force for good measure before dissolving into giggles. Din lifted his helmet up and immediately pressed a longing kiss to your lips. The kiss was uncoordinated since the two of you couldn’t stop grinning. The kiss, and the pastries were heavenly, Grogu and Aranar shared a piece, for your peace of mind. After all, it was you who had to wrangle two sugar-high toddlers in the training yard as you teach advanced sword techniques to a group of heavily armed teenagers who happened to be Mandalore's newly sworn warriors.

The impending knock finally came and you shared another sugary sweet kisses with your riduur before you put his helmet back on and sent him away to his duty. The door was barely closed when you were hit with realization.

Fuck, you thought. We’re soul-bonded.

**

Overall, there are worse people to be soul-bonded with. Having one with your own riduur is not a bad thing at all. Having one with your riduur without any source to soul-bond knowledge, however, is another piece of work. Putting a mental shield up against your own riduur feels wrong but you do it anyway, respecting his privacy to his own mind.

Until today.

Today, you feel a gentle nudge at your brick wall of a mental shield, laced with Din's warm force presence. You could've brushed him off and shielded yourself better, but you thought to yourself that a small peak wouldn't be bad.

You're wrong. Oh, you're so wrong because it's bad. Your hand directly flies towards your mouth and you try to stifle a moan as a yawn.

In his fantasy, Din had you bent over the meeting table and he's pounding into you. He has his hand on the small of your back, pressing you down to the table. You're completely naked against the table, pinned beneath the beskar of his armor. You can hear the filthy sound of his cock ramming into your sopping cunt. Din grabs a fistful of your hair, making you cry his name out loud, losing yourself to the stretch and the hard thrusts of Din's cock.

“Oh fuck-” you grit your teeth, clenching your fist on your thigh. You sit there, stunned, breathless, unable to stop watching.

“Can you feel how good this pussy stretches around me, rid’ika?” Din grunts, holding you so close to his hips while his fingers reach down, rubbing your swollen clit. “Such a good girl, do you wanna cum, mesh'la? Wanna soak my cock and make me give you another ik’aad?”

Maker, yes! You thought, trying your damn hardest not to whine while the version of you in his mind is whimpering and begging him to make you cum. Din leans to your ear, telling you to come. You’re shuddering in his arm, moaning his name in a punched out noise with a telltale sign of orgasm, and you snap yourself out of his imagination.

You put your strongest mental shield up and you lean to the plush seat, blinking and looking around the room as you settle yourself back to reality. Din is sitting on the head of the table, looking over his own datapad as he watches a member of his council talk about Mandalore’s quarterly budget report. If you didn’t know better, you’d think your riduur is actively listening to the report instead of daydreaming about fucking you over this very table.

You tread carefully when you're back home. You put Aranar and Grogu to sleep late, making sure they are a little bit more tired than usual so they sleep soundly later tonight. Once the kids are out like lights, you take the baby monitor with you and change into one of Din’s loose shirts.

You find him still seated on the dining table, tapping things into his datapad. You smirk to yourself, walking towards him and leaning over the dining table to take your own datapad that you could easily reach if you make an extra trip to the end of the table. Din can't stop staring, making no move to help you, instead he stands up from the chair and moves to cup the swell of your ass, just like how he imagined before.

“Careful, rid’ika, you don't know what kinda game you're playing here.”

You whine when his hand moves underneath the shirt, trailing up your thigh, sending shivers up your spine. He whispers praises to your ear, biting down your jaw and your neck.

“Fuck, look at you, mesh'la, you're expecting this, huh?” He lifts the shirt up, revealing nothing underneath other than your glistening cunt. “I haven't even done anything, rid'ika, and this pretty pussy's already all wet for me.”

You moan softly when his fingers find your clit, rubbing on it as you shudder in his arms. Din sinks two fingers into your wet heat and he groans when he feels how wet you are. He thumbs on your clit as he keeps pumping in and out of your cunt, spreading your arousal all over his fingers and your inner thighs until you shake beneath him, then he pulls off of you.

“No, cyare please, I'm so close- Ah!” You cry as his fingers leave you, only to moan loudly when he kneels behind you and he slaps your soaked pussy.

“Needy girl,” he teases, slapping your clit again, ignoring your cries. He parts your folds with his tongue until his smart mouth finds your clit and he starts sucking on the sensitive nub. You grip the edge of the table tightly as you grind against his face, smearing your arousal all over his lower face. Din tuts, holding your hips in place, chuckling when he sees your hole clenches around nothing.

“You know what you get for being such a good girl, cyar’ika?” Din asks, his fingers are back on your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerve in a tight circle as you buck violently against his fingers. “Good girl gets to come on my face.”

His lips are back on you, kissing, lapping, and sucking until you're a whimpering mess. You let out a high pitched whine and you come on his mouth, flooding him with your arousal as he keeps on sucking on your lips as you ride your orgasm.

Din grabs your chin towards him and he kisses you hard, his lips are glistening with the mixture of your cum and his spit and you can taste yourself on the tip of his tongue. Din pulls off of you and he turns you around, lifting you up to the edge of the table. He lays you down and he parts your legs with a steady hand on your inner thigh, keeping them apart so he can admire his hard work, your drenched cunt glistening with your sweet come. Din groans then he spits on your cunt, adding to the mess before smearing everything around with the thick head of his cock. He's painfully hard, his foreskin is pulled all the way back, revealing the flared tip, steadily leaking precum all over you. He lines himself up with your entrance and fucks all the way into you in one push. You watch as his thick cock stretches your hole, feeling yourself clinging to his girth, fluttering around him as you struggle to take his size. Both of you moan when he finally buries himself deep inside you, still holding tight to each other.

“Maker, been thinking about this sweet pussy all day.”

Oh, I know. You thought. “Yeah? Did you think about fucking me, ner riduur? Thought about how my pussy clenches around your cock? Did you think about filling me up with your cum until I'm swollen with your adi'ka?” You taunt him, circling your legs on his hips to keep him buried deep inside of you.

“Fuck!” Din swears, hissing while he steadily leaks precum all over your wet heat, leaning his head to yours and rutting deep against your sweet spot. “You're playing with fire, rid'ika. Can't just say things like that.”

“But I want you to,” you beg, moaning wantonly when he starts pumping in and out of you. “Want you to keep fucking me until I'm so full and swollen with your baby.”

Din growls, pounding deep into you with punishing pace. He's watching you, watching your cunt swallowing his cock, watching your face grow slack with pleasure. You slip your hands under the shirt, covering your breast and squeezing them, making your milk leak until there's a wet patch over the shirt.

“Filthy girl,” Din grunts, pawing on the piece of clothing. “Lift it up baby, let me see.”

You lift the shirt up, revealing your breasts for him, shiny from both milk and sweat. Beads of your milk trickling from your nipples, leaking steadily as he fucks into you. He slips one engorged nipple to his mouth, sucking until he can taste you on his tongue while his fingers play with the abandoned one, rubbing and squeezing, spraying him with milk.

“Everything about you is just so sweet, rid'ika, my perfect girl.” He praises. He licks your nipple clean before switching to the other side, pressing open mouthed kisses before bringing the sensitive buds to his mouth and sucking on it, drinking you until he's full while his hand loves on the other one. His cock never stops pounding into you, bringing you closer and closer with each snaps of his hips.

He folds your legs into a mating press, tucking your knees against your chest and his cock is so deep inside you. So deep he reaches your cervix, kissing your womb with his tip. You clench hard around his length, your wall seizes violently around him, milking him irresistibly as he keeps hitting the spot that makes you see stars, begging him to please, never stop. You're wailing as your whole body shakes, tipping your head back and moaning Din's name so loud he has to cover your mouth with his palm, worried the filthy noises of the snap of his balls slapping your ass, your loud moans, and the squelching sound of your wet pussy might wake the sleeping kids up.

With a shaky shudder, you come down from your high, whining as Din keeps fucking you, chasing his own orgasm. After a few brutal thrust, your riduur groans loudly, shouting punched out moans as he peaks. His cock twitches in your soaked, messy cunt, filling you with his hot cum, flooding your insides and claiming you his. He kisses your lips, muffling both your moans, only parting to plant another kiss to your temple while he pumps you full of his cum, murmuring sweet, loving praises and filthy promises to you.

“That's a good girl, rid'ika. Take it, baby, gonna get you all round and pregnant. That's what you want, right? Want to give me another? Want to be bred all over again?”

Din keeps rutting with you until you both shake from overstimulation and he gently pulls out of you. He admires your blissed, fucked out face, trailing soft kisses down your jaw and your neck, sucking his marks all over your body. You tip his jaw up and catch his lips in another kiss, laced with a content smile, before breaking away to whisper sweet I love yous to each other.

Din gathers you in his arms, carrying you to the bedroom and lowering you gently into your shared bed. He leaves for the fresher, fetching a damp rag to clean you up before slipping into his side of bed beside you. He pulls you close, kissing your lips lovingly and rearranges the covers, tucking you into his arms.

“You're my dream girl, you know that right?”

“I tried,” you smile contently, caressing the scruff of his jaw softly.

“You don't have to,” Din mutters, humming when you snuggle closer to him, pressing your heartbeat over his. “You're perfect just the way you are.”

You exchange more kisses, lazily making out in bed until sleep takes over, safely nestled in each other's arms.

About a few weeks later, you start to feel the tiniest flutter in the force.

[gothgoblinbabe]

『Obsessed』

Sub!Logan Howlett x Dom!fem reader

A/N: haiiiiiii I take forever to write im so sorry but I'm real proud of this one and I hope ya'll like it because there is a criminal lack of sub!Logan content

Warnings: NSFW//18+, swearing, sub!logan x dom!fem reader, friends to lovers, mutual pining, Logan’s a lil perverted in this one (steals your underwear), unprotected sex (pls dont do that), oral (F receiving), Handjob, uuuh cum eating sorry not sorry this ones a lil’ nasty, and if I missed any please let me know! ps I only proof read this once so pls forgive me for any mistakes

Summary: You and Logan are left alone for the weekend to supervise the kids while everyones out, but he can't help himself from going a step too far with his infatuation with you

Word Count: 12K

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Logan didn’t like the word ‘obsessed’. He thought it made him sound like a creep - which, maybe he was, at this point.

He preferred terms like ‘infatuated’ or ‘bewitched’. Those sounded like much better words to describe what he felt for you. It was so overpowering that it may have even been considered something more than an obsession. Everything about you was intoxicating; you put him under your influence and kept him wrapped around your finger. You had him from the moment he saw you for the first time, you just had no idea. He remembered seeing you enter the room and lock eyes with him. He never believed in love at first sight, it was total bullshit. Total bullshit, until he felt it with you.

He did everything he could to conceal it, though, knowing he was not immune to rejection.

You considered Logan one of your closest and best friends. He was always playfully teasing you, sometimes to the point where your face became warm. It actually only took a couple weeks for him to be positive that he was head over heels for you. He started calling you things like ‘princess’ and  ‘pretty girl’, as if they were your first name. He liked to see your gorgeous smile when he joked with you and hear your laugh that sounded like music to his ears. You were the first thing he thought about when he woke up in the morning and his last thought before bed. He couldn’t escape his feelings for you if he tried. Months of admiring you under the guise of strictly friendship was starting to eat away at his self-discipline, though. It became harder to leave you alone. 

His attempts to be close to you in any way possible were becoming bolder. Playfully swinging an arm around your shoulder so he could be close to you and smell your shampoo. Offering his hoodie when he could see you were cold so that he could fall asleep with his face in it after you gave it back. Even Logan himself understood he bordered on being a total creep, balancing on the thin line between that and what he understood to be infatuation. He’d still let you push him over into either side, regardless. 

Things got so much worse - or better? - for Logan when you both found out you’d be in the mansion, alone, for the weekend. Someone had to stay back and help with the kids while the others completed a mission and you were always quick to volunteer your free time to help - another thing he loved about you. He volunteered the second you did, of course, earning an amused eye roll from Scott. It didn’t take a genius to see he liked you - you were just blinded by the idea that he couldn’t possibly see you as more than a friend and colleague.

“So, what are we thinkin’ for this weekend? Mario kart tournament? Guitar Hero battle? We’ve got to think of something to keep the little creatures entertained,” you chatted with Logan as you walked side by side down the corridor. He always found it amusing when you called them that.

“Maybe we can give ‘em each a gameboy and just lock ‘em in their rooms for the weekend.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice? Oh, maybe we can trick them into cleaning something.”

“You want to try to trick a group of kids with mutant abilities? You know some of them are telepathic, right?”

“Well,” you realized he was right and tucked your bottom lip between your teeth, “there goes that idea.”

“We’ll figure something out.”

He wanted to give helpful input or ideas, he really did, but he couldn’t get the idea of being alone with you out of his mind. You’d been alone together, yeah - on missions, errands, doing whatever - but never at home. Never in a place where you both had bedrooms - where there was even a possibility of anything. 

In order for there to even begin to be a possibility that something would come out of being alone with you, though, he reminded himself he actually had to be able to confess his feelings to you first. 

He was lost in thought, so much so that he didn’t notice you had asked him something until you had to snap your fingers in front of his face to get his attention.

“Earth to Howlett,” you giggled, “anybody there?”

“Hm? Yeah, yeah. Just tired.”

“Didn’t hear what I said?”

He pursed his lips and you understood that to be an answer before he even opened his mouth.

“I asked you to go gather some of the kids and figure out if they have any ideas for something to do.”

“Got it.”

A little while later, you met with him in the living room. You each had a gaggle of children behind you.

“Okay, everybody sit,” Logan instructed, but they were all chatting far too loud with each other to even hear him.

“Sit!” you yelled.

Instantly, every child in the room found a seat and went completely silent with their attention to you.

“Thank you,” you sighed, “alright, who wants to go with me?”

About half the room raised their hands.

“Okay, who wants to go with Logan?”

The other half of the room raised their hands.

“I guess that works out,” Logan shrugged. 

He let the kids drag him off to do whatever it was they would decide on while you stayed with yours.

After maybe fifteen minutes of back and forth amongst the children, the majority decided on baking treats.

“Really?” you were a little surprised when they told you because of how simple you assumed the task would be, “Awesome! Everybody in the kitchen.”

You thought you’d give the kids the box mixes of muffins and cupcakes as well as a couple of logs of frozen cookie dough and they’d take it from there. Unfortunately, that was not what happened.

Ten minutes into the activity, you were already having to clean cake batter off the walls and flour off the floor.

“Oh, nope - no, no raw egg, I already told you that! Spit it out, spit, go,” you scolded one of the kids and directed him to the sink when you saw him crack an egg directly into his mouth.

“Dear god,” you muttered under your breath.

Another little girl yelled your name and you turned around. One of the bowls of raw batter was in the air.

You sighed and rubbed your temples.

“Teddy. Put it down, now” you knew exactly which one of them was the troublemaker.

The child in question was smiling wide.

“If you say so, miss.”

The bowl instantly dropped with a loud echo and its contents splattered everywhere.

You wiped a glob of batter off of your cheek.

“Okay,” you took a deep breath, “Teddy, you’re going to clean all of that up or you’re spending the weekend in your room. Everyone else, if you pull anything like that, you’re doing the same. Got it?”

The children nodded and agreed in synchronization.

“Good.”

From then on, things seemingly went pretty smoothly.

You were chatting with a group of girls and helping them ice some of the cupcakes when one of them insisted she had to ask you a question.

“What do you do when you like somebody? Like…really like someone.”

She was one of the older girls, Alice, who was probably around seventeen. She looked away nervously and you smiled.

“Why? Do you really like somebody?” you lightly teased. You didn’t want to embarrass her, of course, but you thought it was cute that she came to you to ask.

“Yes!” one of the younger girls answered for her, leaning in to whisper to the group, “she likes Teddy.”

“Shut up!” Alice hissed, throwing one of the plastic whisks in her direction without actually lifting a finger, “I do not!”

“You write ‘A+T’ on everything!” the younger girl retorted, snickering.

“Okay, okay - leave her be,” you instructed, turning your attention back to the girl beside you, “I think when you really like somebody, you should tell them. It’s easier said than done, but you’ll feel so much better after you’ve done something about it instead of bottling up your feelings.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. Trust me, anything worth doing is scary. The worst thing that can happen is that they don’t feel the same way, and if that’s the case - there's plenty of people you’ll love in your lifetime.”

Alice nodded and exchanged amused expressions with her friend that sat on the other side of her.

“What?” you asked, laughing a little and looking between the two of them.

“So, is that what you did with Professor Logan?”

The both of them raised their eyebrows and giggled.

“W- um,” you cleared your throat, “what?”

“Oh, come on!” Alice rolled her eyes, “we may be kids, but we’re not blind.”

You narrowed your eyes at them and bit the inside of your cheek with your hand on your hip. After a moment of thought, you leaned down and spoke in a whisper.

“Not a word to him, understand? I swear, I’ll fail you both.”

“He likes you, you know,” Alice said, wiggling her eyebrows, “we can definitely tell.”

“Sure, he does,” you replied in a sarcastic tone and scoffed.

You’d had feelings for Logan for so long that you thought you’d learned to hide it well. Apparently not.

You considered him to be one of your closest friends. He playfully teased you on a regular basis, stayed up late to talk with you for hours, even held you when you cried - things good friends do. But his touch lingered when you brushed hands, you often caught him staring and he always stood so close to you - all little signs that made you feel as though there could possibly be something more. You figured that you were so close that if he really felt anything for you, though, he would’ve been direct and honest with you.

If only these two girls knew how you felt, you weren’t too nervous about it getting back to him. Kids started rumors all the time, you knew he’d take it with a grain of salt if one of them was bold enough to tell him.

You hadn’t considered how quick kids could be, though.

Logan was outside with his gaggle of kids, passing around a basketball with some of them while the others occupied themselves in the grass. The hot sun beating down on them was enough to make them sweat on its own but combined with the physical activity, it wasn’t long before everyone needed a break.

Logan sat on the grass to catch his breath, leaning back on his hands. Almost as soon as he sat down, one of the boys who had been playing sat across from him with two of his other friends.

“Hey,” he greeted them, squinting in the sun.

“I’ve got a question,” one of them said directly. He was probably about nine or ten.

“Alright,” he nodded, “shoot.”

“What do you do if you really like a girl?”

He quirked an eyebrow.

“You like a girl?”

“I never said that.”

“He does,” one of the boy’s friends interjected, “he’s always teasing her.”

“Shut up!” he replied and punched the other boy in the arm.

“Okay, listen,” Logan started, leaning forward, “first, you can’t tease a girl just ‘cause you like her. That’s not cool. If anything, it’ll make her dislike you.”

The boy furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and tilted his head. He brought up your name in a curious tone.

“How come you do it to her, then? You like her and you do it.”

Logan feigned a confused expression.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, kid.”

“Dude,” one of the other boys raised his eyebrows.

“Dude,” Logan mocked him, “zip it.”

“Is that a yes?”

“ ‘Yes’ to what?”

“You like her.”

“No.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Nu-uh.”

“Yes.”

“Kid, I’m losin’ patience,” He huffed, taking a sip from his water bottle.

The young boy shrugged, “she likes you back, you know.”

He choked on his water and coughed, taking a moment to catch his breath. One of the other boys reached over and patted him on the back.

“Just went down the wrong way,” Logan wheezed, but none of them bought the excuse. His chest felt tight when he thought about the possibility of you liking him in any capacity that was more than friends.

“Anyway,” he continued with a deep breath, “If you like a girl, you should be nice to her. Bring her flowers, tell her she’s pretty - the classic stuff.”

“Gross,” the boy cringed.

He laughed and shook his head.

“So, did you give her flowers?”

“Who?”

The boy said your name again and Logan sighed.

“Bub, we work together - it’s not like that, alright?”

“Then why do you stare at her all the time?”

He pursed his lips and one of the boys stifled a laugh.

“I think she’s pretty,” he admitted, “I can look at her, that doesn’t mean I like her like that.”

They all giggled and began singing the k-i-s-s-i-n-g rhyme with your name and Logan’s.

“Okay,” he stood, crossing his arms, “if you three don't shut your mouths, I’m gonna hang each of you from a flag pole by your underwear.”

They all shuddered and didn’t say another word.

Later in the evening, all of the kids gathered in the living room to have a movie night. They were crowded on and around the couch with some on the floor or on bean bags. The coffee table was littered with popcorn, muffins and half eaten cookies. You were tucked into the corner of the couch with Logan, a fuzzy blanket draped over both your knees. Your eyes were focused on the movie but he noticed you shiver and draped his arm around your shoulder to pull you into him.

“You cold?”

“A little bit,” you answered honestly and pulled the blanket up further but he immediately unzipped his sweatshirt and held it out for you to put on.

“Logan -”

“Sh,” he held the sweatshirt open for you to put your arms through the sleeves, “take it.”

You sighed and obeyed, turning so you could do as he asked and shrug it on. When he saw you looking so cozy in his sweatshirt, he couldn’t help but tug you back into his side with his arm around you. He could hear your heart beat faster than it had before and he smiled to himself. Sometimes he thought you could feel the same way he did, but never wanted to get his hopes up. Neither you nor Logan could take your own advice that you’d given to the kids.

Somewhere in the middle of the movie, you positioned yourself to lay on your back with your legs over his lap and a pillow tucked under your head. By the time the film ended, you were fast asleep. Logan instructed the kids to take themselves to bed and they dispersed to do as they were told. A couple of them snickered as they passed by, seeing your legs on his lap while you snored softly.

When they had all disappeared from the room, he couldn’t help himself from taking a moment to just admire you. You looked so peaceful with your lips slightly parted and your eyes closed. You had the blanket tucked up to your chin with the sleeves of his sweatshirt covering your hands. He hesitantly reached over to swipe a strand of hair from your forehead and let his hand softly graze your cheek. He leaned down and tenderly planted a gentle kiss on your cheek, becoming enamored with the smell of your perfume that overwhelmed his senses.

“I really do wish I could tell you how much I love you,” he whispered as quietly as possible when he pulled away from you. He sighed and hooked one arm under your knees and the other around your back so he could stand with you against his chest. He began to walk with you to the stairs, pressing his lips into the top of your head every now and then. You sleepily mumbled nonsense into his shirt, pressing your face into his chest and softly giggling from the pleasant feeling of the warm cotton.

“You’re real tired, huh, darlin’?” he whispered as he climbed up the stairs with you in his arms, but you were silent again. When he finally got to your room, he opened the door and laid you gently into your bed. You immediately made yourself comfortable with your knees curled up to your chest. He tucked your comforter over you and you began to snore again, indicating you were probably out for good. It wasn’t a surprise that handling rowdy kids all day had made you exhausted.

Again, he stood for a second to watch you. He wanted so badly to just crawl into bed with you, wrap his arms around you and hold you to his chest while you both fell asleep. Your room smelled so much like you that he imagined your bed probably smelled even more heavenly. He wanted to bury his face in your pillows and be nearly sedated from the fragrance of your hair. He wanted to be surrounded and swallowed by you.

Well aware that his behavior of watching you sleep was weird at best, he turned to leave your room. As he did, though, his eyes caught something that made his palms start to sweat. Directly on top of your dirty laundry basket, like a cherry on top of a sundae, was a red, lacy pair of panties. 

He knew it was wrong. He knew it was perverted. Would you notice if they were gone? Would you suspect him at all? Still, he couldn’t help himself.

He picked up the soft fabric and looked back to be sure you were still asleep. Knowing you were, he held the garment up and suppressed a moan. They were nearly see-through. He pressed the gusset of the panties up to his nose and thought his knees might give out. He knew it was bad, so bad, and yet, he folded them and shoved them into his back pocket. He went back to give you another gentle kiss on the forehead and left your room, shutting the door behind him.

When he got out into the hallway, he could already feel himself stiffening in his jeans. He got to his room as quickly as he could, locked the door and instantly kicked his shoes off and undid his belt. He took your panties out of his pocket, tossed them onto his sheets and shucked off his jeans. He crawled into bed and picked the garment back up, pressing his nose to the fabric so he could smell you again. He could already feel himself leaking in his boxers from just smelling you. He imagined what you’d taste like if you let him have you, if you let him trace every inch of you with his tongue until you were begging him for more. The image of your head thrown back in ecstasy while you squished his face between your thighs filled his mind and his eyes fluttered closed. He reached down with his other hand to stroke himself over the fabric of his boxers for a second of relief. He got so hard when he thought of you that it almost became painful at times. 

When he thought he’d teased himself enough, he finally dragged his boxers down his thighs so that his hard cock could slap onto his stomach. He swore under his breath at the relief of being free from the confines of his underwear. With your panties in his other hand, he had an ingenious idea.

He wrapped the soft red fabric around the base of his cock while his hand guided it up and down. He was enraptured by the idea that by fucking a pair of your worn panties and brushing his cock along the same fabric that had been soaked with your slick, it was like being able to be with you in some way. He told himself that when he arranged the gusset of the panties to sit right on the head of his cock, his hips twitching up to press himself into the fabric with a groan. It was maybe the closest he’d ever get to the real thing. He imagined the soft fabric he was pressing himself into was your cunt, that you were dragging your wet folds along the length of him. He imagined what it might feel like to run his hands over your soft skin and be able to touch you how he wanted. He began to pump himself again with the panties in his fist, messily fucking into his hand and leaking on to the same fabric he knew you had been in. He panted while he continued his movements, squeezing his eyes shut so he could picture you with your hands on his chest as you rode him. He could see your messy hair framing your gorgeous face and your tits bouncing above him while he jerked his hips up into you eagerly. The repeated movement was intoxicating. He was nearly drooling from how rapidly his mind was racing with thoughts of you - spread out in his bed or sitting in his lap or up against a wall - anything about you spurred him on. It took less than five minutes for him to be spilling all over his hand and stomach with a growl, the fabric of your panties damp with his release.

He groaned in frustration at the mess he made, taking off his shirt to clean himself off and tucking the panties under his pillow. He really did feel guilty - maybe he could get them in the wash without you noticing so he could plant them somewhere back in your room. For now, though, he was definitely keeping them. He ended up falling asleep that night with the fabric balled up in his fist.

The next day - to avoid a repeat of the overwhelming mess you had to clean yesterday -  you assigned some of the older kids to help keep an eye on the younger ones. You meant to wake up early to do so but you’d clearly slept in, standing barefoot in the kitchen with a cup of coffee in your hand. You were still in your pajama pants and Logan’s sweatshirt. 

He couldn’t help but smile when he came down and saw you wearing it, the gray sleeves hanging off your shoulders.

“I’m never gonna get that back, huh?”

His voice caught your attention and you turned around, smiling wide when you saw him step into the kitchen. He was already dressed in his tank and blue jeans.

“Oh, did you want it back?” you raised your eyebrows, “ ‘cause you're definitely not gettin’ it.”

You shot him a mischievous smile and his heart felt like it would beat out of his chest. He felt a pang of guilt seeing your beautiful face while knowing he did such filthy things to the thought of you. 

When you turned back around to look at the group of kids, half of them were whispering behind their hands and giggling while looking between the two of you.

“What?” you laughed a little and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Nothing!” a few of them shouted in unison and you narrowed your eyes.

One of the younger boys, the one who talked to Logan the day before, raised his hand. He had a smug expression on his face when he made eye contact with him. Logan figured he knew what he was up to almost instantly.

“I know what it is!” the boy waved.

“Oh?” you looked at him expectantly.

Some of the other kids around him snickered.

“Professor Logan said he thinks you're pretty.”

You immediately turned to Logan, who was adorably red in the face - you couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or anger, though. You were biting down a smile, your face warm from the compliment. 

“Well,” you cleared your throat and spoke under your breath to Logan, “thank you.”

You were grinning uncontrollably now and the kids started to giggle again when they took notice.

“Okay, alright, enough - any ideas of what we wanna do today?” you finally asked.

Much to your surprise, they all shouted the same thing in unison. 

“Pool!”

You and Logan exchanged amused looks.

“Alright,” you nodded, “that was weirdly easy.”

“Get ready and meet back here in twenty minutes,” Logan instructed, “not a single one of you leaves without us, understood?”

They nodded and mumbled in agreement before excitedly running in different directions.

“So,” you were the first one to address the elephant left in the room, “you think I’m pretty, huh?”

“I, uh-“ he stuttered, trying to think if it was better to be honest or blame it on a rumor, “yeah, ‘course.”

He replied as if the answer was obvious. His face was sincere and you resented how much your face obviously showed you were giddy.

You laughed a little and the sound was replaced with silence. You chewed the inside of your cheek before speaking, unsure if you should even bring up what you were about to say. 

“You know, one of the girls told me something kind of funny yesterday,” you chuckled nervously and kept your gaze on the counter before you spoke again, “I don’t know why, but I guess some of the kids have it in their heads that you and I have a thing for each other or something.”

He froze where he stood. Well, telling the kids he thought you were pretty certainly wasn’t going to quell that theory.

“Uh, I - yeah, really weird, no idea where that came from,” he stuttered, scratching the back of his neck.

“Oh, me neither - me neither. I just - it was funny, is all.”

“Yeah, you know, kids love stories,” he nodded, “I’m, uh - I’m gonna go change.”

“Oh, right, yeah. Go ahead, I’ll meet you back here.”

That interaction bordered on being painful. 

You finished the rest of your coffee and went upstairs to your room to change. You picked out a two piece bathing suit and put shorts and a loose shirt over it before heading back down.

You waited patiently for the kids - and Logan - to come down and they were all ready within fifteen minutes. 

“Okay,” you fixed your sunglasses atop your head and clapped your hands together, “some ground rules before we go - no pushing, no running, no diving and if one of you drains the pool again, we’re all going back inside. Everybody got it?”

They agreed and you were laying in the sun minutes later, trying your best to keep an eye on everyone at once.

“Are you gonna go in?” you asked Logan, nodding towards the pool of kids playing Marco Polo.

He shrugged, looking down at his swim trunks.

“Maybe, but not until there’s at least less than fifteen of ‘em in there at once.”

You laughed and nodded, standing up from your chair. 

“Well, I’m sweatin’ my ass off - I’m going in,” you explained and pulled your shirt over your head. 

He sighed and watched you kick off your shorts. The swimsuit you were in was appropriate, of course - you were supervising kids - but just seeing so much of your skin made his mouth water. He thought about undoing the little ties on the side of your hips. He thought about your thighs, too - how soft they looked, how good he knew he could make you feel. He felt like he’d been blessed by luck just from looking at you, like it was a privilege to even stare.

His eyes followed your legs as you made your way to the edge of the pool. You jumped in and emerged from the surface of the water in seconds with your wet hair clinging to your face. He knew his staring was obvious but he just couldn’t help himself.  Preoccupied with staring, he never saw the inflatable beach ball coming before it hit him in the side of his face.

“Get in the pool!” one of the boys shouted at him and Logan picked up the inflatable ball, throwing it back into the water.

“Not feelin’ it right now.”

“Chicken!”

A couple of the boys started chanting the nickname and pumping their fists in the air.

“Chicken! Chicken! Chicken!”

He rolled his eyes and stood from his seat. The boys cheered as he took off his shirt.

You heard a couple of the older girls near you gasp and giggle excitedly. You followed their gaze to see Logan taking off his shirt and you laughed at their reaction - as if you didn’t feel the same way internally. One of them groaned and turned to you.

“You’re so lucky.”

“Lucky?”

A couple of the girls around you nodded.

“Yes!” she spoke again, “he stares at you, like, all the time.”

You rolled your eyes, “again with this? Guys, I don’t know what you think is happening but Logan’s my coworker - we’re friends.”

“Mhm,” one of them hummed suspiciously with a smirk, “sure, you are.”

“He was literally just staring at you,” another pointed out, nodding towards him.

He was already in the pool when you turned back to look at him, his wet hair dripping in front of his face. He was laughing with one of the younger kids sitting on his shoulders.

“I think you girls see what you want to,” you insisted and shook your head, “hey, if he ever tells me he likes me like that, I’ll let you skip your end of year test.”

The girls chattered excitedly amongst each other at your promise and eventually forgot about the subject.

You finally got out of the pool for good after about an hour or two, wrapping yourself in a towel and sitting back in your chair. Logan followed suit shortly after. You tried your best to keep your eyes off his body but god was it hard when he was dripping wet and looked so damn good. The trail of hair that started under his navel and went all the way down into the front of his shorts made you want to bang your head against a wall. Not to mention that when you looked at the front of his wet shorts, you could see the outline of his-

“Damn.”

You brought your attention back to his face when he spoke and followed his gaze to the ground. The shirt he had been wearing was completely soaked - collateral damage from a water gun battle. 

“I can run in and get you another shirt,” you shrugged and stood from your chair, slipping your shorts over your legs. 

“I can go -“

“Logan, it’s okay,” you insisted, “I have to grab a couple more towels anyway, just keep an eye on the kids while I’m gone.”

He put his hands up in defeat and slumped back into his chair, “they’re in the second drawer in my dresser.”

You simply nodded and slipped on your sandals, walking away. 

When you finally got back inside, you trudged up the stairs and down the hall to Logan’s room. You smiled to yourself when you cracked the door open. The whole room smelled just like his cologne. You found his dresser and immediately took notice of the little trinkets on top. One you recognized was a tiny plastic toy you’d taken out of your McDonalds happy meal months and months ago. You remembered giggling and handing it over to him, saying it was his early Christmas gift.

Another was a strip of photos you had taken in a booth on a field trip with the kids to the zoo. You picked it up and flipped it around, only to read your name and the date scribbled in Logan’s handwriting. Underneath was ‘It’ll always be you.’, written in black ink. You furrowed your eyebrows and flipped the photo strip back around. The first couple photos you remembered well - Logan’s arm around your shoulder in one, your tongues sticking out in another, but the last photo stuck out to you more than you remembered.

You were beaming at the camera, your shoulders tensed up while you leaned on him. Logan, though, wasn’t looking towards the camera. His eyes were on you, a small smile stuck on his face. Something about it made your chest hurt.

You sighed and put the photo strip down, remembering what you were here for. You opened the drawer he told you his shirts would be in and grabbed one before promptly pushing it shut. As you turned to leave, though, something in his bed caught your eye. You stopped in your tracks. There was a piece of red, lacy fabric sticking out from under his pillow. You really shouldn’t look through anything of his, you knew that, but you still couldn’t help yourself. The pattern of lace looked oddly familiar. You timidly lifted the pillow and your heart stopped. It was a pair of panties.

The lace looked familiar because they were your panties.

You picked them up and held them in disbelief. You remembered them being on top of your laundry when you saw them last. When you woke up this morning, though, you didn’t remember seeing them at all. Meaning, when he carried you up to your room last night, he must have pocketed them.

You felt the fabric between your fingers and recognized what had dried into it.

“No way,” you gasped, a shocked but amused smile on your face, “no fucking way. No way.”

You were giggling uncontrollably and staring at the garment in your hands.

“No way,” you repeated, whispering to yourself under your breath, “he jacked off in my fucking underwear.”

You probably should’ve been disgusted or creeped out or both, you knew that, but finding out a guy you had feelings for had been jacking off - assumably to you - with your panties felt like a win. Now that you’d put two and two together - the writing on the back of the photo and your panties hidden under his pillow - you figured you’d have to make some sort of plan to approach him about it. You stuffed them into your pocket and returned to the pool with more towels and Logan’s t-shirt. It was nearly impossible to pretend for the rest of the day that you’d never found what you did.

Once everyone had finished dinner that night and dispersed to get themselves ready for bed, you were left alone in the hallway with him.

“Today was fun,” you admitted, “even if my hair stinks like chlorine.”

“It doesn’t smell too bad,” he insisted and pressed his nose to the top of your head without a second thought, “just like summer.”

You found yourself feeling warm when he was so close to you. You cleared your throat nervously and found yourself staring up at him in silence when he pulled away.

“I’m, uh…I’m gonna go take a shower,” he mumbled with his eyes still locked on yours, “but I had a lot of fun today, too. I liked hangin’ out with you so much this weekend.”

“Me too,” you replied instantly, “we’ll have to spend more time together soon.”

There was a flirtatious tone to your voice that made him sweat, but he figured he was looking too much into it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked.

“See you tomorrow, bub,” you giggled a little, turning on your heel and walking to your room.

He sighed and watched you walk away. When he finally went off to his room, he decided his shower was definitely going to be a cold one.

You were pacing in your room as he got to his, your arms crossed as you tried to think of what the hell to do. You had to do something to make some kind of move. You were stuck until your last conversation with him replayed in your mind.

I’m gonna go take a shower.

You stopped pacing and got into your own shower as fast as you could. You threw on a pair of sweatpants and the sweatshirt you had borrowed from Logan the night before - except you wore nothing underneath.

You were knocking on his door minutes later, nervously rocking back and forth on your heels.

When he answered the door, he had only a towel around his waist.

“Uh,” your eyes immediately fell to his torso, “hi.”

“Hey,” he laughed a little when he noticed you weren’t looking him in the eye, “you need somethin’?”

You swallowed hard.

“Just wanna talk to you for a sec,” you answered.

He stepped aside to let you in and closed his bedroom door behind you.

“One minute,” he told you, stepping back into his bathroom and closing the door to get dressed. When he disappeared out of view, you reached behind you to click the lock on his doorknob.

“Everything okay, sweetheart?”

You couldn’t help smiling at the nickname, your stomach erupting in butterflies as he reemerged in sweatpants and no shirt.

“Uh, yeah, everythings great - I just had a question.”

You reminded yourself you had to be confident when you approached him. He sat on the edge of his bed and you tentatively stepped forward to stand in front of his open legs. He raised his eyebrows expectantly. You could tell that he seemed a little nervous.

“Logan,” you bit down a smile, “if I asked you something, you’d be honest with me - wouldn’t you?”

He shot you a confused look but nodded anyway.

“Yeah, of course I would.”

“Mhm,” you hummed and reached into the pocket of your sweatshirt, “so, why did I find these under your pillow?”

You dangled the piece of red lacy fabric in front of his face and he went pale and wide eyed.

“Shit.”

You were smiling like you’d won the lottery.

“I- I can explain, uh, about that -“ he was stuttering but you cut him short.

“Can you? Because what it looks like is that you took my panties out of my laundry.”

He was surprised you didn’t sound mad or disgusted. You were smiling, like this was entertaining.

“Uh…” his words caught in his throat and he coughed, “I, um, I wasn’t…I wasn’t-“

“Baby,” you said softly, leaning down and putting a hand on his knee, “it’s okay.”

You could feel his muscles tense under your touch and his eyes darted from yours to your hand and then back up again. He felt lightheaded.

“If you wanted these so bad, you could’ve said something, you know,” you muttered, still dangling the fabric in front of him.

“Yeah, right,” he said sarcastically and scoffed in an attempt to play cool, “ ‘cause you would’ve just given ‘em to me.”

“Well,” you stood straight again and held the panties in front of you so you could feign that you were inspecting them, “I would’ve let you do a lot more than jack off into my underwear.”

He looked absolutely mortified in a way you’d never seen before at the realization that you figured out exactly what he did with them.

“Aw, don’t be shy, sweetheart, it’s okay,” you cooed and got down on your knees in front of him, resting your elbows on his lap, “you just wanted me so bad that you thought fucking my panties was all you’d ever get, huh? Am I right?”

Your near mocking tone already had him growing hard underneath his sweatpants. He was almost sure he was having a wet dream.

Still, he found himself slowly nodding in agreement. 

“Wanted you so bad,” he finally admitted. His breathing was shaky.

“Do you still want me?” you asked, but he was nodding again before you even finished the question. Your chest swelled with pride and you were more than confident now in your approach. You gently held his face in your hands and you could see he was quickly turning red.

“Logan.”

“Hm?”

He was far too enraptured by you to actually say anything.

“Kiss me.”

His lips parted in surprise, thinking he must’ve misheard you. You dominantly held his chin when he didn’t move.

“I said kiss me,” you repeated in a firm voice and he groaned and gave in to temptation, hungrily mashing his lips against yours. It was loving and needy at the same time. He was eager to get his tongue in your mouth but his lips were soft and he was so gentle with you. He cradled your face in his hands just as you had done. It was a good while before either of you pulled away, too lost in the feeling of each other.

“What’d you think about when you did it?” you asked when you disconnected your lips. You cradled the back of his neck with your hands and he was practically melting from your touch.

“Hm?” Logan was so overwhelmed in the best way possible that he hadn’t even heard you speak - he was still reeling just from realizing you weren’t going to scold him for what he’d done and actually seemed to like it so much that you kissed him.

“What did you think about when you touched yourself for me?”

He couldn’t help the groan that escaped his lips from hearing you talk to him like that.

You giggled a little, amused by how little it took to have him half hard already. 

“Thought about - thought about bein’ able to fuck you,” he inhaled deeply, “thought about you on top of me and how beautiful you are.”

His complete honesty and the genuine compliment made your heart flutter.

“Oh, so you’d want me on top?” you inquired and slowly inched a hand from his knee towards the top of his thigh.

“Uh,” he closed his eyes and took another deep breath, as if he was imagining it at that very moment, “god, yeah.”

You were smiling so wide that your cheeks hurt. You had a wicked idea that had you wet just thinking it.

“Show me what you did with them.”

You dropped the panties directly onto the growing bulge under his sweatpants. He parted his lips in surprise and you sat back on your heels, waiting patiently.

“You - you wanna watch while…fuck,” he was panting and you hadn’t even touched him yet. 

You nodded and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. He felt like he was on fire. 

“C’mon, pretty boy,” you mercifully placed a hand over the front of his sweatpants and his hips instinctively ground towards your touch, “for me?”

He nodded frantically, eagerly hooking his thumbs under the waistband of his pants and boxers as he lifted his hips so he could pull them down his thighs. When his cock sprung free from the confines of his clothing, your mouth started to water - he was huge. You had to remind yourself not to just give in - that you wanted to make him work for it.

“Here,” you dangled the pair of parties that had fallen to the floor in front of him.

He excitedly wrapped the fabric around his cock, closing his fist over it to pump himself. You watched in awe as he whined and whimpered from barely touching himself, his eyes never leaving yours. He was stroking himself at a slow pace, beads of precum forming at the tip and dribbling over his hand. As dirty as his actions were, you thought he looked like he could be the subject of a painting in a museum - head thrown back in bliss, his features painted by the golden yellow light of the lamp on his nightstand and his chest heaving as he panted.

“So good for me,” you said in a low volume and he groaned, “does it feel good, baby?”

He twitched in his fist and you could tell that your praise had him making a mess in his hand.

“Feels really fucking good,” he moaned and you had to resist the urge to nudge his hand away and replace it with yours. You wanted to taste him, even if it was just one swipe of your tongue over the head of his cock. You imagined that he tasted like his kiss.

“I thought about you too, you know,” you cocked your head and wet your lips.

“You did?” 

He seemed genuinely surprised, the motion of his hand only faltering a little.

“Of course,” you smirked, “Do you wanna know what I thought about?”

“Please,” he pleaded instantly, “I wanna know.”

“I thought about your pretty face, how good I think you’d fuck me.”

He groaned and leaned back on the elbow of his other arm.

“I think about you all the time,” you admitted with your eyes flickering between his face and his hand, “I think about riding you with your hands on my ass. I think about how much I’d love the scratchiness of your beard on my thighs if you ate me out.”

He was panting and whining every time you made a confession. You could see how desperate he was becoming and it turned you on beyond belief. With his eyes still on you, you began to unzip the front of your - his - sweatshirt at an agonizingly slow pace. The further you pulled the zipper down, the more he realized there was nothing underneath.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he loudly groaned before you even opened the front of the garment.

“I love how easy it is to rile you up,” you said truthfully.

“ ‘s not gonna be hard. I’ve been obsessed with you for a while.”

That was the first time he’d said it out loud - that he even liked you, yes, but it was the first time he’d used the word obsessed to describe what it was he felt for you.

“Obsessed with me, huh?” you asked softly as you began to shrug off the sweatshirt, “I can tell.”

You thought he was nearly going to finish just from seeing your bare chest. His hips jerked towards his hand and he squeezed his eyes shut while his jaw hung open. He moaned your name and you felt like you’d heard an angel sing.

“So - you’re so perfect,” he stuttered, opening his eyes and raking them up and down your body.

“You think so?”

You really just loved to hear him talk in between grunting and moaning your name.

“ ‘Course,” He nodded frantically, “I stare at you all the time, can’t take my eyes off you.”

That, you knew, but again - you still loved to hear him say it aloud.

“Love your voice, your hair,” he continued and nodded towards the sweatshirt that was now loosely hanging from your arms, “I gave you my sweatshirt so it’d smell like you when ya’ gave it back.”

“Really?” you slowly stood and he sat up straight, “I borrow them because they smell like you.”

It was the honest truth and you noticed his thigh start to shake the second the words slipped out of your mouth. Standing in front of him as he sat on the bed made him eye level with your chest and he couldn’t take his eyes off you. You held his face in your hands and he looked up into your eyes like he saw the world in them.

“Do you wanna touch ‘em, sweetheart?” you asked in a soft voice and he nodded, “go ahead.”

The second you said the word ‘go’, he already had his free hand on the small of your back, holding you closer while he latched his mouth onto one of your nipples. 

You let out a small whimper and he growled into your flesh, his tongue swirling and sucking.

“Logan,” you sighed his name and threaded your fingers through his hair.

“F-mm, fuck, can’t - can’t go sayin’ my name like that,” he swallowed hard and buried his face in your chest.

“You like it when I say your name, Logan?”

He groaned loudly, leaving wet open mouthed kisses. You could see the drool gathering in the counter of his mouth. He was moaning and whimpering into the soft flesh, feeling himself get closer and closer to the edge.

“ ‘m gonna come too fast if you fuckin’ do that again,” he tried to warn you but you swiped some hair out of his face. 

Maybe it wasn’t a good time to say it, but the three words that had been unspoken for so long threatened to escape your mouth when you had him like this. You tilted his head so he had to look you in the eyes.

“I love you, Logan.”

He growled animalistically, almost instantly cumming in his fist and making a mess of his lap and stomach while he rambled on.

“Love you - I love you so fuckin’ much,” he admitted, burying his face in your chest. He may have been embarrassed about coming so fast, but you were more than pleased that you made him finish so soon.

“Hey, maybe next time, you show me?” you asked and he raised his eyebrows.

“Next time? Oh, no,” his eyes were wide, like a kid in a candy store, “get on the bed.”

You almost told him to remember who was in charge, who made the demands, but you were far too excited to just be with him. You shrugged off his sweatshirt and laid on his bed. He crawled over to you after he cleaned himself up and pulled you in to kiss again. The warmth of your chest on his was intoxicating for him. His hands eagerly explored all the expanses of soft skin he had dreamed of touching, eventually stopping to rest one at the front of your sweatpants. Without hesitation, his fingers breached the elastic and he slid his hand down, only to realize you weren’t wearing anything underneath the sweatpants either.

“You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me, you know that?” he warned.

You playfully grinned, all the way up until you felt him drag two fingers right through your folds, sliding them up and down at a slow and steady pace.

“Logan,” you sighed, “fuck.”

He dragged the waistband of your sweatpants down and you kicked them off, leaving you as bare as he was. He sat back on his heels so he could take a good look at you. It was a tender moment in between passionate frenzies of hands and mouths.

“You’re everythin’ I ever dreamed of, you know,” he sighed and you could’ve cried from how sweet he was.

“Really?”

You were still enamored with each other, basking in the warmth of newly exposed skin. The air in the room was much different than it had been before, though. What felt like built up tension dissipated and was replaced by the excitement of getting to finally be with each other.

“Yes, really,” Logan replied in disbelief, as if even asking that was crazy, “you’re fucking beautiful.”

Even while he was sitting back on his heels, his thighs spread and his semi hard cock on full display, he still made you bashful with every compliment.

“You’re fucking hot, c’mere,” you eagerly reached up to press your lips to his and bring him down on top of you with your arms around his neck.

He moaned into your mouth and let you pull him down, reveling in the sensation of your hands moving to tug at his hair. 

“I wanna make you feel good,” he mumbled against your lips in between kisses while his hands kneaded the widest part of your thighs.

“You do,” you replied instantly, but he shook his head and pulled away a little.

“Uh-uh, I mean like this.”

Two of his fingers slipped between your folds again and found your clit instantly. He started lightly tracing circles around the bundle of nerves. Your back arched and you gasped, spreading your legs wider in an impossible attempt to somehow get more of him.

“Is that good?” he asked, eyes flickering from your face to your pussy and back again.

“It - ah - ‘s really good, you’re doing such a good job, baby,” you replied, whimpering when he started to trace his fingers even further down so that they could slip into you.

“You’re so fucking wet, Jesus,” he groaned, looking like he was going to faint just from the sight of his fingers becoming soaked when he thrusted them in and back out again. He moved himself a little further down the mattress to settle his face in between your thighs while he laid on his stomach. He wanted to watch you clench around his fingers up close and get a taste of what he’d been fantasizing about for so long.

“Logan,” you moaned softly when he curled his fingers, “think you - you’d feel so fucking good in me.”

He could feel himself already growing hard again against the mattress just from the words spilling from your lips. He was leaving hungry, open mouthed kisses from the inside of your thighs right up until his breath was fanning your aching cunt.

“Such a good boy,” you managed to pant while his fingers still worked at a relentless pace. His eyes were glued to where you were taking him, mesmerized by how wet you were and the noises you were making. 

You arched your back and whimpered when he pulled his fingers from you so he could spread your slick all the way up to your clit and circle around it.

“I know you wanna taste it, baby,” you noticed his intense stare, “go ahead.”

He retracted his fingers so he could spread you open with his thumbs, lay his tongue flat and lick you.

“Fucking Christ,” you swore when you felt the warm, wet heat of his tongue.

He moaned into you, grinding his hips down on the mattress for any sort of relief.

“Taste even better than I imagined,” he took a deep breath, “I think about this all the time.”

You couldn’t help the smug grin on your face, broken every now and then when a moan escaped your mouth.

“You get off thinking about eating my pussy?”

He hummed with his tongue still swiping up your cunt.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” you sighed, “what else do you think about, babe?”

Even just hearing the nickname from you was still enough to make his cock twitch.

“Like lookin’ at your legs,” he spoke in between licking and sucking, “thinkin’ about how soft your thighs would be around my head.”

You were turned on beyond belief when he confessed those things to you. Something about his devotion, how he’d do seemingly anything for you, ignited some kind of fire in the pit of your stomach. He even noticed how you immediately started to get even wetter.

“You like when I tell you stuff like that?” 

Your eyes were closed and your hips rolled forward to push yourself even further onto his fingers, even if he was already knuckle deep. You nodded in response, too distracted by the pleasure of having Logan’s tongue and fingers at the same time.

“I love watchin’ your hips when you walk” he muttered against you, “thinkin’ about getting to hold ‘em while you ride me.”

There was no way you could be turned on any more than you were. You were moaning and whimpering into a pillow when you started to get so loud that you feared someone would hear you. Logan looked up and smiled to himself, satisfied that he could touch you so right that you had to muffle the sound of your moans.

“I look at your tits a lot when you talk to me,” he started again, knowing how much you seemed to like it, “can’t help it, always thinkin’ about gettin’ to touch ‘em and put ‘em in my mouth.”

“I - fuck - I wear low cut stuff on purpose so you’ll stare,” you gasped, “wanted you to think about me.”

“God, I do, all the time,” he groaned before making obscene wet noises while he buried his face in your pussy. 

“I want you to fuck me so bad,” you confessed, “need to feel you inside me.”

He growled into you and muttered his response.

“I wanna make you cum on my face, first. I’ve been dreaming about it forever. After, I’ll let you do whatever you want to me.”

“Whatever I want?”

“Mhm.”

Your head was swimming with all the ideas of what you could do to him. It pushed you even further towards your orgasm.

Logan was curling his fingers to repeatedly hit the same spot inside you and your legs started to shake. He could feel you tighten around his fingers, pulsing around him.

“Fuck, are you close? Please, c’mon, cum for me,” he pleaded in a desperate voice, still mumbling against your throbbing pussy. 

Hearing his voice beg for your release was enough for it to come, crashing over you in waves while you tugged on his hair to angle his mouth.

“Love you, I love how you touch me,” you confessed while catching your breath, “I’ve never been with anyone who’s been able to make me cum like that.”

Unfortunately, it was the truth. You’d been eaten out before, of course, but no one you had been with had actually thought about your needs in that way and if they did, they lick everywhere but where you wanted them. Logan was a different story. He’d eat you like you were the last thing he’d ever taste in his life. He buried his face in your pussy till you squirmed, as if he was starving. He worshiped the spot between your thighs - it was a privilege to even see you, never mind taste you. Tasting you on his tongue was something he’d been craving for so long.

“I love you,” he replied when he finally detached his mouth from your cunt, his chin and cheeks covered in you, “no one’s ever done that for you before?”

“Not till I came, no,” you answered kind of sheepishly.

He crawled up so he was above you again and kissed you, swirling his tongue in your mouth so you could taste yourself. 

“Get used to it,” he smiled and held himself up on his forearms, “I wanna do that every night.”

Your pussy was already throbbing again when he presented the idea. You were immediately lost in thought, imagining him between your thighs all over again, maybe while you’re sitting on your desk or riding his pretty face. You were brought back to reality when you felt the weight of Logan’s hard, leaking cock on your thigh. You looked down and raised your eyebrows.

“How are you hard again? Not that I mind.”

He laughed a little.

“Uh, you know the regenerative thing? It applies to all of me.”

“Wow,” you whispered unintentionally, “holy shit, am I lucky.”

“Nah,” he replied immediately, tenderly holding your face in one hand, “I’m the lucky one. I got the girl of my dreams in my bed.”

The more he sweet talked, the more you wanted to absolutely fuck him till you broke the bed frame.

“Logan?”

“Mhm.”

“Remember when you said you’d let me do whatever I want to you?”

He took a deep breath and nodded his head, almost shaking from the anticipation of being your toy.

“Lay on your back,” you commanded and he did so immediately. 

You caught the way his hard cock twitched when you swung your legs over his and straddled his hips, your cunt right behind where he needed you. You rolled your hips the slightest bit, moving yourself forward to graze his balls first. His hips jerked when you did and his hands instantly came to your hips and waist, kneading the flesh and gripping you so hard he might leave fingerprint bruises, ones you’d love to have because they were his. His hands slithered all around your body - your thighs, hips, waist, tits, neck, face, arms - in an attempt to memorize every bit of you. His favorite part of your body, if he was really forced to choose, would probably be your hips, tummy, and thighs. He loved how soft you were to the touch, how he could use your thighs or hips as something to grab onto. Still, this felt unreal to both of you. You never would’ve thought Logan would ever see you as more than a friend, so finding your panties in his room was like a fantasy come to life.

You inched yourself up a little further to finally settle yourself at the base of Logan’s cock, granting him the littlest bit of relief. 

“You’re gonna feel so good inside of me,” you told him. He was so big that you were sure he probably wouldn’t have to put in much effort to have you cumming around him again. You almost drooled thinking of how it would feel to sink down on him for the first time, how amazing it would feel for him to stretch you out and fill you completely.

He looked like he was in a daze, his eyes glued to you.

“I wanna make you cum again,” he confessed, “I don’t even care if I don’t, I fuckin’ love getting you off.”

That sentence alone could have had you leaking onto him before he even got himself in you.

“You’ll cum,” you promised, “I’ll be sure of it.”

He inhaled sharply and watched you grind your hips up to finally slide yourself up the length of his cock. He whined, a sound that was music to your ears, and used his grip on your hips to eagerly push and pull you back and forth.

“Careful, Kitty,” you cooed, “you’re gonna finish before we even start if you keep doing that.

He groaned, loud, so loud it almost startled you.

“Oh,” you held a smug grin, “you like when I call you that, don’t you?”

He ground his hips up into you and you gasped when he slid you over the tip of his cock and back again.

“Yeah, yeah,” he panted, “please, fuck me, please.”

You leaned down with your hands holding you up on either side of his head.

“Do you think you’ve been good enough to deserve it?”

He nodded frantically. You almost thought you saw tears forming in the corner of his eyes.

“I’ll - I’ll do fucking anything, need you so bad,” he begged and you couldn’t resist him when he looked so gorgeous underneath you - a tall, brooding, muscular guy like him absolutely pussy drunk the second he saw you naked.

You reached down to line him up with your entrance, keeping your eyes locked on his. His hands slid up and down your thighs and hips as you started to sink down onto him. Barely even in you, you could see Logan was practically trembling.

He slid his hands to the back of your neck so he could pull you down for a kiss, slow and passionate in a way that made your heart feel like it would burst. With his lips still on yours, you lowered your hips. He gasped into your mouth and his head rolled back before you’d even taken half of him.

“You’re so perfect,” you told him truthfully, whimpering when he bucked his hips up to push himself further into you.

“Look who’s talkin’,” he flashed a slight grin, his eyes trailing down your body.

You followed his gaze and realized he was staring at where he was almost completely filling you. You forcefully sunk yourself down to take the last few inches of him and his breathing became heavy.

“Feels good?” you asked and used a hand to hold his chin so he was forced to look at you. 

“More than that,” he panted, squeezing his eyes shut, “fucking amazing.”

“Open, look at me.”

He obeyed, hazel eyes glued to your features.

“Be a good boy for me, hm? Don’t cum until I say you can,” you instructed and started to slowly work your hips up and down.

He groaned loudly, whimpering and squeezing his eyes shut again.

“What’d I say?,” you grabbed his face again, “I said look at me, didn’t I?”

“F- mhm, you-you’re gonna fuckin’ kill me,” he heaved, opening his eyes and gnawing in his bottom lip to try and keep them open. He wanted to stare, study and memorize every movement you made on top of him, but he knew watching you would only make it harder for him to keep himself from cumming. 

You started working up a steady pace while he kept his grip on your thighs. Logan was pushing his hips up every time yours came down, grunting and moaning.

“You feel so fucking good,” you told him truthfully, rolling your hips when he was fully inside you so that his patch of curly, short dark hair created friction against your swollen clit, “fill me up so well, baby.”

He could only let out a guttural moan, an intoxicating sound that matched the rhythm of his headboard hitting the wall. His mouth was hung open as he watched himself disappear inside of you over and over again.

“Aw, pretty kitty,” you delicately moved his hands above his head so you could interlace your fingers and hold his hands down, “you already look fucked out of your mind.”

His face and chest were flushed, sweat starting to dampen his hair. He watched your every move with a loving gaze. You both knew he could resist your attempt to hold him down easily - he just didn’t want to. It was the perfect angle, one where he could see your gorgeous face with your jaw hung open and your eyes on him.

“ ‘m yours, you know. Always - always have been,” he muttered between gasps as you sped up your pace.

“I’m yours too, Logan - you know that, right?” your smile was sweet, even while you were on top of him like that.

He couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore - the combination of your filthy words and beautiful body was going to send him over the edge if he didn’t try to concentrate on keeping himself from spilling into you.

“Ah, m-mhm,” he whined as a response.

You suddenly lifted your hips and let him slip out of you. 

“Words, baby,” you reminded him, “you have to a good boy for me if you want me to keep fucking you.”

His eyebrows were knitted together and his mouth opened as if he was almost in pain from not being inside you anymore.

“ ‘m good, i’m good, please - need to,” he was breathing hard and kneading your thighs.

“Need to what, baby?”

You knew exactly what you were doing and so did he. You wanted to hear him say it, hear him beg.

“Need to be in you,” he sighed, trying to catch his breath.

“I think I should make you work for it,” you told him, instantly having an idea of how he’d do it.

“Anything, I’ll do anything.”

“I know, sweetheart,” you were as smug as you could be “switch with me.”

You climbed off him and laid on your back, but not before you had a look at what a mess you’d made. The trimmed hair around his cock was clearly soaked, so much so that you could see the shine of what you left behind on his lower stomach - on that nice trail of hair that runs down into the front of his pants all the time.

“Fuck,” Logan swore under his breath when he saw what you had.

“Don’t get too worked up, kitty,” you held a mischievous smile and he tentatively crawled on top of you, his waist between your legs as he held himself up on his forearms. 

He grunted, “you’re still gonna call me that when I’m slammin’ into you?”

That sentence alone evoked a tingling feeling in the bottom of your stomach.

“Maybe once or twice,” you caught your bottom lip between his teeth, “but if you’re fucking me and I can still speak, you’ve gotta go harder.”

“Ugh,” he couldn’t help groaning - not out of disgust or annoyance, more so an expression of frustration for how badly he wanted to do that to you. He wanted to fuck you till you were speechless, maybe do so well for you that you’d leave a nice white ring around the base of his cock.

You reached down between your bodies to align him again and he slipped in immediately. Even with how wet you were, it was still a stretch. You locked your ankles at the small of his back, maybe out of instinct or to push him further into you - you weren’t sure. He tried to delicately fill you again, fearful that too much too soon could hurt you, but you pushed some of his sweat soaked hair off of his forehead and lovingly held his face in your hands.

“Go ahead, Logan, it’s okay,” you told him, knowing how much he loved to hear you say his name, “you’re not gonna hurt me.”

When he was fully inside of you, his hips flush with the inside of your thighs, he practically had you pinned to the mattress with his lower body. He buried his head in your neck while he slowly started to rock his hips. He was leaving wet kisses below your ear, biting and sucking your soft skin. You couldn’t help gasping and squirming, something that had encouraged Logan to pick up his pace.

“I-I don’t heal like you do,” you warned, “ those are gonna leave a mark.”

“Good,” he muttered against your neck.

You had your hands tangled in his disheveled hair and used your grip to tug his head up, hard enough to make him moan but not enough to really hurt him.

You were practically nose to nose while your hot breaths fanned each other’s faces.

“You wanna mark me up ‘cause I’m yours, huh?”

He hated how well you could read him. It may have been a blessing in disguise, though.

He growled and his nostrils flared, something you discovered you found incredibly hot. His eyebrows were furrowed and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looked pissed. Except the noises he made for you proved just about the opposite.

“Mhm,” he heaved, “mine, all mine.”

That definitely built up the pressure in your stomach. You liked being the dominant one, but it was undeniably sexy when he took control.

“ ‘m yours,” you told him, wrapping your arms around his neck so you could kiss him. First, you actually kissed his cheek - you were so sweet sometimes that he felt like he would melt into you - then you pressed your lips to his. It was another hungry kiss, the kind that had your lips covered in each other's spit and left a string of saliva connecting your mouths when he pulled himself up. It was as if you were starving to eat each other.

“I love you,” he sighed, his hand grazing your cheek affectionately, “wanna be like this forever.”

“I - I love you too,” you choked out between whines and gasps for air as he knocked it out of you, “you feel even better that I thought you would.”

“Really?” he asked, kissing along your jaw, “you thought about that before?”

“So many times,” you admitted, “I figured you were big but Jesus.”

He groaned into your skin and held himself up again so he could look at your pretty face. You stared back, eyes traveling down his face and to the silver dog tags that hung around his neck. They swung back and forth with every snap of his hips. You wondered if he’d let you wear them some time so you could have his name around your neck and maybe have it dangle in his face the next time you were on top.

Logan kept his steady pace but it quickened when he could feel you using your legs around him to try and push him further into you. You knew the inside of your thighs would certainly be bruised from his hips slamming against you and it pushed you even closer to coming undone. He wrapped an arm under you as you were gasping his name and clawing at his back. He growled and cursed under his breath from hearing your pretty voice say his name over and over again. He had to make you cum first and soon because he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. 

He sat back on his knees and took you with him, using a firm grip to drag you down the mattress a bit and keep your legs on either side of him, all without slipping out of you. He kept the bottom half of your body laid on his lap, fucking you from a new angle that had your legs shaking. He hit that perfect spot inside of you over and over again when he thrusted his hips, feeling proud when he saw just how much you were enjoying it.You were gripping the sheets so hard that your fingernails were digging into your palms. 

“Fuck, you like that? ‘s good?” He slurred, his sweat making his irresistible body shine like he was a Greek fucking god.

You were speechless from how hard he was fucking you, pulling back and ramming his cock into you so hard that the headboard was slamming against the wall. 

“I-mhm,” you really did try to say something, anything, but all that came out was a high pitched moan.

“Guess ‘m doing it right then, if ya’ can’t talk” he muttered with a short laugh, referring to what you’d told him earlier. 

“M-mhm,” you hummed, eyes squeezed shut.

He started to trace slow circles around your clit, staring in awe at your swollen pussy. He leaned back a little and spat on it so he could spread his saliva all over your cunt.

“Oh, my god, L-Logan,” you gasped, feeling the pressure in your stomach build higher and higher.

“Need ya’ to cum on me,” he panted, his mouth hanging open as he watched your tits bounce with every thrust, “gotta feel it.”

“ ‘m gonna -“

“C’mon, baby, c’mon, please,” he begged, desperate to see you pulse around him.

His pleading words pushed you over the edge and you grabbed his arms, digging crescent shapes into his skin that disappeared in seconds. Your back arched and your eyes started to water as he worked you through your orgasm, his fingers staying exactly where they were.

“ ‘s too much, too - ah,” you whined and gasped while you weakly tried to push his hand away, but he only shook his head.

“Uh-uh, baby,” he told you, “jus’ one more - just wanna get one more outta you.”

You could feel a warm tear fall down the side of your face from the overstimulation. You were cumming again after a few swipes of his fingers. 

His thrusts became sloppier with every whimper of yours that echoed in the room and he came with a loud groan when he felt you spasm around him, leaning down to bury his face in your neck as he spilled into you.

“Love you so much,” he sighed into your skin, breathing heavily.

“I love you too,” you exhaled, pressing an innocent kiss to his cheek.

He sat up and slowly pulled himself out, watching a mix of his cum and yours drip out of you and onto the sheets.

“C’mere,” he panted, laying on his stomach and dragging your thighs to lock around his head.

“Logan, what are you d-”

Before you could ask what exactly he was doing, he shoved his tongue as far as he could inside of you, dragging it up and around your pussy, even the inside of your thighs.

“Fuck - ah,” you gasped and grabbed his hair, tugging every time he grazed your clit.

When he finally pulled himself off you, he wiped his cheeks and chin with the palm of his hand so he could lick it clean.

“Jesus christ,” you let out a short laugh.

“Just wanted to clean you up,” he explained, crawling back onto the bed to wrap his arms around you. 

You were both starting to nod off, much too exhausted to get dressed or clean the mess you’d made of his sheets. He kissed your shoulder, the back of your neck and the side of your face, pulling you as close as possible. Before you let exhaustion overtake you completely, you felt Logan mumble into your hair.

“I Iove you, sweetheart.”

You smiled wide, laying your arm over his.

“I love you, too.”

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

A/N: Thank you sm for reading!! pls like and reblog if u enjoyed :3 also, as always, I am still working on inbox requests <3

[punkshort]

Something Unexpected

Thank you @pasc4lfuzz for this request!

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: It's been ten years since you lived in Texas, and of course the first week back, you run into a familiar face from your past.

Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, mention of OC death (reader's father), romcom vibes (bc of course), meet cute, shy!joel, flirting, sexual tension, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex (reader on BC), sex in public

WC: 4.8K

Dirty Bill's bar was exactly as you remembered.

As the name implied, the place wasn't the cleanest. Even after Bill locked up for the night, your shoes used to stick to the floors and it was almost a guarantee to find a stray lemon or lime somewhere on the bar top.

His definition of clean never matched yours. Hell, it didn't match anyone's, but that didn't stop locals from frequenting the place regularly.

It had been years since you lived in Austin and worked at the bar. At least ten, maybe more. When you tended bar, you actually kept the place relatively clean, but you knew the second you walked in that Bill clearly went back to his old ways once you quit and moved.

To his credit, the place was still packed. You had to stand up on your tiptoes and crane your neck to find your oldest friend, Leah, sitting at the bar nursing a gin and tonic. You grinned and pushed your way through the crowd, doing a double take when you recognized a few poor souls from your bartending days drinking the same bottles of beer.

Some things really never do change.

"Leah!" you cried out excitedly as you approached. She swiveled around on her barstool with a huge grin when she heard your voice. Jumping down, you enveloped her in a huge hug, swaying her back and forth and holding each other as tight as you could. She looked a little older and she gained a bit of weight since she had her kids, but otherwise she was the same. Same bright blue eyes, same wavy blonde hair, same toothy smile.

"Oh, my god! I can't believe it's really you!" she exclaimed, leaning back but still gripping your shoulders so she could get a good look at you. "You look amazing," she added before dropping her hands.

"I was about to say the same to you," you said before sliding onto the barstool next to hers. She scoffed and shook her head.

"Don't bullshit me. After I had Aiden I was never able to lose the extra weight."

"I'm not bullshitting you," you laughed. "You were always too skinny before, I told you that tons of times. You look incredible. I mean it."

She blushed and waved you off. "What're you drinking? They have some specials til nine, that's when the fireworks are supposed to start, but sadly that's also when I'll have to leave," she said with a pout. "Babysitter's got plans. Can you believe the audacity? A twenty year old daring to make plans on the Fourth of July?" she asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. You laughed and took the stained piece of paper she held out for you.

"I can't believe he's doing specials now," you told her while you perused the menu.

"It ain't anything earth shattering. Bud's a buck cheaper and well drinks are two bucks each."

"And here I thought he dreamed up a cocktail menu," you replied with another laugh.

"Oh, honey, you know Bill won't even buy a goddamn blender for daiquiris."

It had been ten years since you left Texas and saw Leah, but just the way good friends do, you fell right back into each other without skipping a beat. Although the topics of conversation that had once centered around boys now focused on her children and work, you still found her so easy to talk to.

"And what about you? Now that you're back, what's the plan for work?"

You winced when you tossed back the rest of your drink and shook your head. "Don't know yet. I gotta get my head around going through all of dad's things and trying to sell that house. Hell, maybe Bill will hire me again," you joked.

"I know you're just kidding but he would in a heartbeat," Leah said before clearing her throat and taking on a more somber tone. "How're you holding up? Dealing with your dad passing 'n everything?"

You shrugged and smiled at the cute bartender who gave you both refills without having to ask. "I'm alright. It was a long time coming, he was sick for so long. I'm just glad he's not in pain anymore, but I miss him. This whole town just reminds me so much of him, you know?" you said, furrowing your brow while you watched your ice swirl in your glass. She nodded sympathetically and put a gentle hand on your arm. "It's so weird being back here now without him. Like I keep waiting for him to walk through the front door. It's why I can't keep the place. Too many memories, it's messing with my head," you said with a dry laugh before taking a sip of your drink.

"I get that. I can come by this weekend and help you for a few hours if you like," she said. You smiled at her and tilted your head to the side, overcome for a moment at how generous she was, knowing full well she had enough to deal with at home.

"Thanks, Leah. I'll let you know."

After another hour, the cute bartender cupped his hands around his mouth like a megaphone and announced last call for drink specials. Leah's face fell and she pushed off the bar with a sigh.

"Guess I oughta get going."

Sadness rippled through your chest at the thought of being alone again, but you tried not to let her see it. She had a family to go home to, a life.

"Thanks again for meeting me, I know it's hard for you and your schedule is so busy now," you said, giving her a hug.

She opened her mouth to reply when the cute bartender you had been eyeing up all evening put a drink in front of you.

"Oh, sorry, thanks, but I'm just about to leave," you told him. He wiped his hands on a towel and tipped his head to the side.

"It's on him."

Your gaze followed the direction in which his head tilted and you could hardly believe your eyes.

"Oh, boy," Leah muttered under her breath.

The man on the other side of the bar lifted his beer bottle to you before stepping away into the crowd. You could see his greying curls making their way through the throngs of people fighting to get one or two more cheap drinks and you felt anger slowly bubbling to the surface.

"Play nice," Leah warned you. You clenched your teeth and shook your head.

"I'm always nice."

She chuckled and gave you a kiss on the cheek. "Call me about this weekend."

"Yeah, okay," you replied distractedly, your heart thudding faster in your chest when the familiar looking man stepped through the crowd and sidled up next to you at the same time Leah disappeared, heading towards the door.

"Hey, darlin'. Hope you don't mind me buyin' you a drink," he said, his southern drawl thicker and slower than you remembered. "I'm Joel," he added, sticking his hand out for you to shake.

You stared at it too long, the alcohol buzzing through your veins and slowing down your train of thought.

"Yeah, I know who you are, Joel," you replied, ignoring his hand to glare up at him. "Do you really not recognize me?"

He swallowed and let his hand fall limp as he scanned your face, the gears in his head working overtime to try and place you, and the fact he didn't remember you hurt your feelings more than you expected.

"I, uh..." he trailed off and scratched his chin nervously. You rolled your eyes and leaned against the bar.

"I used to date your brother. For like, eight fucking months in high school. He stood me up for prom?" you reminded him, your tone turning icy. The realization clicked and his face softened when he quietly murmured your name.

"Oh, shit. Sorry, I didn't... thought you moved outta town."

"I did," you snapped. "I'm back now. Just got here last week."

He nodded and shifted his jaw to the side. It was like you could see the wave wash over him in real time: his memory recalling images of you in his mother's house, probably remembering stories Tommy told him when you weren't around, and finally, the uneasiness settled in when it dawned on him his brother could find out he made a move on his ex girlfriend.

But much to your surprise, Joel didn't come up with some feeble excuse and run off. In fact, he took Leah's abandoned stool and put his beer next to your untouched drink.

"Tommy was an asshole to you, wasn't he?" he asked. And even though it was ages ago, you could feel that wound in your chest slowly begin to open back up.

You shook your head and looked down at your hands.

"He embarrassed me. Dated me the entire school year, went to football games and every single house party together just to bring Jill fucking Parker to prom." You angrily took a long drink from your glass before setting it down a little too loudly on the bar. "Didn't even break up with me. Just... pretended like I didn't exist. Do you have any idea how much that hurt? I showed up an hour late, my hair and makeup all goddamn perfect, just to walk into the gym and see him dancing with her. Kissing her. Fucking dick," you muttered, raking your fingers through your hair.

Joel listened quietly, a sympathetic look on his face while you continued.

"I couldn't stay there. I turned right around and walked home. Cried the whole fucking night in some stupid fucking dress that matched his stupid fucking boutonniere."

Joel winced and shook his head. "I'm sorry. I - I remember some of that but I was too wrapped up in my own shit back then. Had one foot out my parents' door, had a girlfriend and was gettin' started in construction. I remember you at some family dinners but... I don't know, I'm real sorry, sweetheart. Didn't mean to ruin your night."

You sighed and rolled your shoulders. "You didn't, it's fine. It was a long time ago."

"Yeah, but it still hurts you. I can see it," he replied, his soft brown eyes boring into you.

"It shouldn't. I just haven't thought about all that in forever and so far, being back here is only bringing up shitty memories," you said sadly, stirring your drink absentmindedly.

Joel glanced around the bar, noticing it was beginning to clear as patrons filed out to the parking lot to get a good spot for the fireworks show about start in the town park down the street.

"C'mon," he said, abandoning his beer and taking your hand before sliding off the stool. "Let's go make a good memory. Fireworks are 'bout to start."

Your eyelids fluttered in surprise, first at the way he was holding your hand, and second at his proposition.

"Oh, we don't have to. I was going to head home, anyway," you told him. He was nicer than you expected about the whole situation, but it was bordering on pity, and that was something you certainly were not interested in.

"I ain't gonna keep you from leavin', but I could sure use the company," he said, still holding your hand. You chewed your bottom lip as you silently weighed your options. He smiled softly and gave your hand a little tug when he saw your resolve crumbling. "C'mon. I don't wanna watch fireworks alone."

You rolled your eyes and fought back the stupid smile from spreading across your face. "Alright, why not?" you said, hopping off your stool. You allowed him to drag you by the hand through the crowds of people mingling in the parking lot, through clouds of cigarette smoke and boisterous laughter until you reached his truck parked at the very corner of the lot.

Joel dropped your hand so he could unhook the tailgate, then jumped up with a grunt to unfold the pile of blankets he had shoved in the far corner. You took a few steps forward and watched curiously as he fluffed up two pillows, and you wondered if this was some kind of move he often pulled on girls.

"You came prepared," you said, trying to subtly test your theory. He glanced over his shoulder with a grin.

"Got stood up tonight," he replied, and the irony of it was too much. You burst out laughing, clapping your palm over your mouth.

"I'm sorry, it's just... what are the odds?"

He chuckled and, once he was satisfied with the blanket arrangement, extended an arm out to you.

"It was a blind date. Wasn't nearly as bad as bein' stood up for prom, but still stung a bit," he admitted. He clasped your hand in his and pulled you up into the bed of his truck with so much strength, you nearly fell against his chest.

"Oops, sorry," you said shyly when you had caught yourself from falling into his lap just in time. He just gave you another smile that was beginning to make your knees weak and leaned back into the bed of the truck. He readjusted his head on one of the pillows, one arm tucking behind his head with a sigh, and gazed up at the sky.

You looked around nervously, unsure what to do. The setting was a little too intimate to be in with your ex's brother, but no one else was around. The closest car with people in it was fifty yards away. And besides, if someone were to report back to Tommy, they would have already seen you together in the bar.

"So, why'd you move back?" Joel asked, his voice so much deeper now that you weren't surrounded by classic rock and loud conversations. You tucked your legs underneath you and looked down at him all stretched out. His shirt was riding up just an inch, exposing a sliver of tanned skin and a trail of dark curls leading past his waistband. You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced yourself to look away.

"Um, my dad died," you told him. His brows pinched together, giving you that look of pity that you had grown too familiar with.

"I'm sorry," he said, and you could tell he meant it.

"Thanks. He was sick for a long time," you explained, trying to downplay it, but he shook his head.

"Don't matter. Losin' a parent ain't ever easy."

You pursed your lips and nodded, staring down at your fingers twisting together in your lap.

"Suppose that's true."

He allowed you to sit quietly for a moment while you gathered your thoughts, waiting to see if you wanted to talk about it more or let it be.

"A blind date, huh?" you asked him, changing the subject.

"Yep. Blind date," he repeated, eyes flickering briefly down your body. "Don't wanna use no apps or shit. Thought it might be easier to do things the old fashioned way. Guess I was wrong."

"I know what you mean," you said. "It feels like it's impossible to meet anyone organically anymore."

He hummed and took a deep breath. "Like buyin' a girl a drink in a bar?"

You giggled and he grinned, the sound of your laugh sending a rush of adrenaline through his veins.

"Yes, but we already met before," you reminded him.

He nodded, smile still playing at his lips. "You use a lot of them apps?"

You felt your cheeks warm and shrugged. "Not really. I have used them, but not lately."

He bit the inside of his cheek and tried to ignore the nervous flutter in his chest when he asked, "That 'cause you got a boyfriend now, or..."

You laughed again and his nerves immediately calmed at the sound.

"No. No boyfriend."

He felt his hands shake while he struggled to come up with the right thing to say or do next when fate intervened and gave him the perfect answer.

A loud boom echoed from behind you and you jumped in surprise, then grinned when you tilted your chin up to see the fireworks had started. Joel cleared his throat, pulling your attention onto him.

"Gonna pull a muscle in your neck if you keep that up for the next half hour," he said, then patted the empty area next to him. You smiled shyly and it made his stomach flip.

"You're pretty smooth, Joel Miller," you teased before sliding down onto your back next to him so you could look up at the dark sky all lit up above you.

He tapped his chest nervously with the tips of his fingers, hardly paying attention to the fireworks now that you were so close that he could feel the heat from your soft skin and smell the scent of your shampoo burrowing its way into his blankets.

Unsure how to make the next move, he chose to go with a classic. He figured at the very least, you might laugh again.

"Why don't you get closer, darlin'? You look cold."

Sure enough, you did laugh, making his heart soar but to his shock, you also inched closer to him. Nestling into his side, you gently placed one of your hands on his stomach, but he could tell it made you nervous because your shoulders felt stiff and your breath was shallow.

"Is this okay?" he murmured after he wrapped an arm around you, his fingers brushing delicately over your arm.

"Mhmm," you said, feeling your skin prickle under his touch. He felt it, too, and pulled a blanket over you both.

How the hell did you end up in the back of your ex boyfriend's brother's truck, cuddled up under blankets and watching the fireworks? When you were getting ready earlier, your only hope was to find some distraction with an old friend for a couple hours. Whatever this was was a complete and pleasant surprise.

Both of you watched as your hand slowly crept up from his stomach to his chest, your hearts beating fast with anticipation. You tilted your chin up to look at him, those deep brown eyes meeting yours and in that moment, an unspoken understanding passed between you.

You met each other half way at the exact same time, pressing your lips together tentatively at first, then with more desperation. He tasted like stale beer but you loved it. It felt comforting. He was so warm and strong under your touch, his hand so big when it came to rest on the side of your face as he plunged his tongue greedily into your mouth for the first time. Somewhere in the back of your mind you realized what you were doing was probably wrong, that it could very well cause a problem between him and Tommy, but he was a grown man who knew exactly what he was doing when he took your hand in that bar.

You weren't exactly sure how it escalated, but it did. He rolled on top of you, pinning you with his weight while one hand skirted up your side, squeezing your breast before tugging the cup of your bra down underneath your shirt and rolling your nipple between two expert fingers. You moaned into his mouth and arched your back, pressing yourself into him.

"Joel," you whispered when his mouth trailed down your neck and his hips began to rut against yours.

"I know, 'm sorry," he panted, yet he didn't make a move to stop. "This probably ain't a good idea," he added, but just tilted his head so he could suck on the other side of your neck.

You bit your lip and tipped your head back, giving him better access.

"Probably not," you agreed when your hands found his belt. His lips stuttered against your throat when you deftly undid the leather and popped the button on his jeans.

"Shit," you whispered when his hand slid down the front of your shorts, his fingers petting at your sex through your panties.

"You want this, baby?" he asked, nipping at your collarbone. You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded, the fireworks in the sky matching the ones behind your eyelids.

"Say it," he commanded, voice dropping an octave and sending a shiver down your spine.

"I want it," you breathed before palming his erection through his jeans. He groaned and pressed himself further into your hand, encouraging you to rub his cock through the thick denim, your mind spiraling at how hard he was already.

He undid your shorts in record time, helping you shimmy out of them as quickly as possible, each of you panting for air, the excitement overwhelming.

"Joel, what if - shit," you cursed when he yanked your panties down and off, tossing them to get lost amongst the blankets. "What if someone sees?"

"Don't worry, I got you," he said, eagerly pushing his jeans down so they bunched up mid-thigh, then settled between your legs and tugged the blanket back over you both. "Ain't no one gonna see us, they're all lookin' up," he whispered before slotting your lips together once again.

Your brows pinched together and your mouth fell open when he first pressed inside, his impossibly hard cock parting your walls and making room for himself deep within your body. His hand cradled the side of your face, fingertips digging into the soft flesh of your cheek when he buried himself inside you with a grunt.

Your fingers found their way to the back of his neck, wrapping around the thick muscle there, threading through some of his hair and holding him close.

Joel bumped his nose against the side of your throat, his own gasps being drowned out by yours as he hid his face against your neck and slowly dragged his cock in and out. Each flex of his hips made you soften under him until you moaned his name into the night air, your voice being muffled by the fireworks overhead and oh, he liked hearing that. His name falling from your lips in ecstasy while he buried himself as deep as he possibly could inside your warmth caused him to think stupid thoughts and feel stupid things.

You wanted to ask him how he did it, how he made you feel so fucking good, how he managed to reach a place inside you that had your mind going numb and your skin tingling with anticipation, but you couldn't find your voice. You could only offer him small whimpers and throaty moans, hoping it would be enough to encourage him.

He panted against your skin, his wet exhale mingling with the humidity of the air, leaving your throat sticky and warm. His hand gripped your thigh, tugging your leg upwards, shifting you around until he found a position that pleased him.

His hips began to move faster when, in the back of his mind, he knew the fireworks would be wrapping up soon. He wished he could take his time with you. He wished you didn't have to hold back those pretty sounds that fell from your even prettier mouth. But fuck, you just looked so beautiful and you felt so good wrapped around him that he couldn't stop himself.

"Oh, god," you whined, fingernails digging into his upper back so hard that he could feel the pinch through the fabric of his shirt. "Right there, Joel, please," you whimpered, and he grinned.

"Y'feel so good, baby," he murmured in your ear, making sure to maintain the same pace within you, not wanting to deny you any pleasure. "So fuckin' good. Wanted you from the second I saw you tonight, y'know that?"

You moaned and continued to claw at his back, your eyes prickling with tears as your climax swelled low in your belly.

"I lied earlier," he admitted, watching your face closely when he said, "didn't sting at all that my date didn't show. Wouldn't've been able to keep my eyes off you the whole time, anyway."

You groaned and cried out his name, your hand slapping over your mouth and once again he grew angry with himself that he didn't just take you home.

"Joel," you whimpered behind your hand, and he yanked it down, uncaring if anyone heard at that point.

"Tell me what you want," he said roughly, hips fucking into you at a steady clip that made beads of sweat form against his hairline.

"Harder," you groaned, biting at his jaw, then latching onto his neck and sucking wet, open mouthed kisses there, hoping to leave a mark. "I'm close, fuck me harder," you repeated, and something primal in him unfurled at the command.

You buried your face against his shoulder when he started to snap his hips into you, his arms caging you in and keeping your body from sliding up the bed of the truck. You wrapped your legs around his waist like an anchor as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, all the while his mouth dragged up and down your neck, your face, your shoulders... anywhere he could find skin, he left his mark.

Then he felt a familiar tightening around his cock and your body began to tremble underneath him, causing his stomach to tense and his hips to stutter. Your teeth clamped down on his shoulder when you came, your words muffled against his body, your hands scrambling against his back as if you were about to fall.

Maybe you were.

"Where?" he whispered frantically, and when you took too long to respond he grabbed your chin, forcing your eyes to lock. You were all fucked out, your body slack and your breath haggard as you gazed up at him, confused. "Where?" he asked again with more urgency, and finally it clicked.

"Inside," you replied, voice cracking. He shook his head like he was in pain and dropped his hand from your chin back down to your hip, pulling you impossibly closer while he continued to plunge inside of you. "It's fine, it's safe," you clarified for him, and that was all he needed to hear.

His mouth crashed over yours when he came, his kisses sloppy and his throat hoarse from the way his words turned into growls against your lips. He pulled back, breaking the kiss, and cupped your face again. Your noses brushed together and your eyes locked as his hips slowed down but still rocked into you, each surge of his cum punctuated by a soft ah until he finally stilled and collapsed.

"Christ," he grumbled against your shoulder. You gently raked your fingers through his hair while you each caught your breath, his body shivering when your nails scraped his scalp just right. He turned his head and gave you a little smile before tenderly pressing your lips together, then carefully sliding out of you with a grunt.

He rolled onto his back and yanked his jeans back up before searching around the ruffled blankets for your clothes. Right when the big finale began, he handed them back to you.

"Perfect timing," you giggled as you squirmed around under the blanket to put your clothes back on. Joel glanced around, his veins still pumping his body full of dopamine, and confirmed that nobody had been close enough to overhear, let alone see, what happened.

Once the fireworks stopped, the crowds of people in the parking lot clapped and began to head to their cars, headlights and engines turning on all around you.

You sat up and straightened out your shirt, trying to play it cool but internally you were freaking out. Was this a one time thing? It had to have been. Right? Did you want it to be a one time thing?

Then, Joel broke the awkward silence.

"Can I ask you somethin'? And you can be honest, it won't hurt my feelin's none," he said. When you looked over at him, he was looking off in a random direction, unable to look you in the face when he asked, "Was this just to get back at Tommy?"

You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

"N-no, of course not," you stammered. "I haven't even thought about Tommy in years. Besides, I wouldn't do something like that."

He tilted his head back in your direction and grinned.

"That's a relief, 'cause it mighta hurt my feelin's."

You laughed and tossed a pillow at him.

"You liar."

He chuckled and gently tossed the pillow back. You tucked it against your stomach as you stared at one another, each of you trying to work out what happened next.

"I wanna see you again," he said, answering your unspoken question, and you couldn't hide the delight from spreading across your face.

"Me, too," you said, and he smiled. A big smile, one that definitely made your knees weak that time. "But what about Tommy? I don't wanna cause some problem with you two."

Joel shrugged and took a deep breath. "Then maybe it can be our little secret."

A slow, mischievous smile tugged at your lips and you knew in that moment he was going to be trouble.

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[emphistic]

Can't Relate to Desperation

A/N: requested by anon — i apologize for how long this took; this was fun to write

— just a heads-up: this is preschool!Sukuna

“—I was wondering if you could help me with a little favor.”

“Sure, shoot.” Your friend was surprised to see Sukuna — out of all people — approach them, but they didn't show it.

“Y/N’s birthday is pretty soon, and I don’t have any ideas on what to get her.” Sukuna had known you for a long while. But that didn’t mean he knew what you wanted for a birthday present. I mean, he obviously knows your likes and dislikes. Your hobbies and pastimes. Your favorite colors, foods, drinks, movies, even. But none of those gave him an idea for a meaningful birthday present.

“Ohh, yeah. I'm getting her a matching pajama set! Because we’re going to have a sleepover after her party.”

Sukuna mentally raised a brow at that, he thought you guys were already planning on having a sleepover. And he most definitely did not remember inviting anyone else to the sleepover.

“I didn't ask.” Sukuna wanted to get this questionnaire over with already, and go back to playing with you on the swings or something like that.

“Hey! That’s not nice. I’ll tell the teacher.”

“Can you help me or not?”

“No, because you’re a meanie. And meanies don’t deserve my help.” Your friend crossed her arms and turned away from Sukuna, emitting a little ‘hmph’ sound.

“Okay, okay. I'm sorry. Can you just help me?” He couldn't believe he just apologized to someone other than you.

“Fine,” your friend huffed out, turning back around.

All the while, you watched this exchange happen from afar. Earlier, you were back in the classroom, digging through your backpack to find the necklace you had purchased with your early birthday money from your parents. You had planned to give it to Sukuna, but it currently looked like he had acquired another friend.

And, what made it even more disappointing was the fact you spent at least ten minutes looking for him. You waited outside the restrooms, searched the playground, dug through the sandpit — in case he got buried, and even checked the cubbies. Then you took a lap outside, and found him talking to another girl, who happened to be your [second] best friend — (Sukuna being the first).

The smile plastered across your face immediately dropped, and so did the necklace in your hands.

It’s not like Sukuna wasn’t allowed to have other friends, it’s the fact that he doesn't — by choice, obviously — except for you. And it's been that way, ever since you complimented his hair, saying, “I love the pink! It is my favorite color,” which was contrary to many of your other classmates. Most kids actually made fun of him for it, albeit Sukuna would always glare in their direction and the laughter and teasing would stop in an instant.

You couldn't believe your eyes. He usually ignored people who tried to talk to him and pushed aside those who wanted to make friends. So why was he suddenly talking to your friend? Was he trying to replace you? Did he get bored of you? Why were they talking in such a secluded area behind the garbage cans? Was he trying to hide all of this from you?

You wiped your soon watering eyes with your sleeve, grabbed the necklace off the ground, and quickly ran in the opposite direction.

Coincidentally, as soon as Sukuna got all the information he needed from your friend, he saw your figure turning around. Why were you here? He thought.

“Thanks.” Sukuna ran away from your friend, and as soon as he caught up to you, he said, “Hey, where are you going?”

“Nowhere.” You didn't turn around to face him, continuing to run away.

Sukuna came to a halt, staring at your back. What's your problem? Sukuna decided it was probably nothing, and that you just wanted some alone time, so he left you to your alone time and resorted to playing in the sandpit by himself. But it didn't feel the same as when you played with him. The sand was too warm, the sandcastle was off-center with the hills made of sand, the birds’ singing was too loud. Nothing was right.

You had to admit, avoiding Sukuna was like avoiding the sun. You could hide out under roofs and loiter inside the restrooms, but you had to get out eventually. And eventually you did; recess had ended and you had to get back to the classroom to continue your lessons. And who did you sit next to? Take a wild guess.

When you sat down in your seat, you scooted your chair as far as possible away from the boy beside you — who stayed still, utterly confused at your actions, and wondering why the hell you were being this way.

Then, your class was assigned a group project. Sukuna turned to you, expecting the two of you to pair up, but to his surprise, you asked another classmate to pair up instead.

Okay, he thought. Maybe you just want to get social with other people; that's fine. That's normal.

What wasn’t normal was the fact that you continued to blatantly ignore the pink-haired boy even at lunchtime.

Sukuna asked you his usual question, “Do you want to share my juicebox?” And, thank Heavens, you finally looked him in the eye. But then you flatly said, “No,” before turning around and starting to eat your own lunch.

Sukuna frowned. “What’s your deal today? Are you allergic to apple juice now or something?”

“No.” Going back to what you did earlier, you didn't face him this time, choosing to eat your sandwich in peace.

Usually, you gave him the crust of your sandwiches to eat, because you didn’t like how they tasted, and he did, but you decided against that today. Which was a shame, Sukuna was looking forward to eating your sandwich’s crust.

“Geez, okay. Be that way, I guess.” Sukuna stabbed the straw into his juicebox and drank. But like the sandpit, it just wasn't the same.

This continued all day. And I mean all day.

Sukuna was starting to get real upset. This frustrated him deeply. He swore that if you kept on avoiding him and running away every single time he tried to approach you, he was going to end up with white hairs at the age of four.

Did you not want to be his friend anymore? Did you finally grow to dislike his pink hair that you once loved so much? He hoped the answers to those questions were a definite ‘no’.

He hoped the answer to those questions was a definite ‘no’.

Finally defeated and having given up on his searching for you all over school, he walked to the playground, hoping that swinging would clear his head. And God, he was so thankful he did just that. Because upon entering the play area, he found you, already sitting on the swings and swinging sadly, by yourself. You were swinging sadly on the swings, yes, indeed you were.

It was quite an amusing sight, to anyone who didn’t know the context. But Sukuna did, to an extent, at least. He knew you were upset, and that the likely cause was him. It was always him. Always. Good or bad, happy or sad, he was always the cause, for you. But you wouldn’t have it any other way, right?

Your head was low, focused on staring at the ground beneath you as you swung back and forth. Sukuna thought you looked cute like that — your braids dangling in front of your face, as you basked in the sun’s rays.

But then Sukuna remembered the task at hand, and made sure to approach you with caution and much needed confidence [in himself].

When he got closer to you — only a few feet apart — he quickly realized why your head was so low when you raised it to look at him, tears in your doe, yet angelically pure eyes.

He cleared his throat. “Y/N. What’s . . . wrong? What’s upsetting you? . . .Is it me?” He whispered the last part, to the point it was barely audible; but you heard him. You always did.

“Why don’t you go and talk to your other new friend, huh?” You spat out, stifling a hiccup as it came.

“Wait—what?” Sukuna’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Don’t play dumb. I know what you did. I know what you’re doing. You can replace me with whoever you want, I don’t care, not anymore. Now go away so I can play all by my lonesome.

“Y/N, I’m not replacing you. I know you’re a dummy sometimes but. . . Where’d you even get such a ridiculous idea?”

“Oh, so I’m the dummy?” you retaliated.

Then it hit him, you were referring to earlier this morning, when he was talking to your friend for advice on what to get you as a birthday present.

“I—you’ve got it all wrong, Y/N. All wrong. I wasn’t, I’m not, and I would never ever replace you. So get that stupid idea out of your head already. I was just asking her for help to . . . get you . . . something — for your . . . birthday, that’s coming up soon.” He didn’t want to spoil the surprise, but if it would make you feel any better, he couldn’t care less about keeping a silly little secret.

“Oh, Sukunaaa! You could’ve just asked me!” You jumped off the swings, swiftly wiping your teary eyes dry, and tackled Sukuna into a hug. The two of you fell into a giggling mess of tangled limbs on the ground.

And to your surprise, the following week, Sukuna gifted you a necklace at your birthday party. It was a cheap, dainty necklace, that much was obvious. But opening the heart charm revealed a poorly taken, bad quality, photo of you and Sukuna both. You two were smiling like idiots, embraced in a hug, and you recognized the picture to date back to when you visited Sukuna at one of his basketball games. The first game of his that you went to, actually.

The cherry on top was the fact that the necklace he got you was the same necklace you were planning on giving him before you saw him talking to your friend last week.

But, ah, it was whatever. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

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