#come dine with me would have nothing on these lot

[yoonia]

blooming wallflowers (m) | knj

⟶ Summary | Your life has been in shambles with only your two sweet girls keeping you strong enough to carry on. It has been a while since the flame of desire you once had within you dim into almost nothing, until the man who spends his life fighting against arson comes into your life (and your two little girls’) only to help light up that fire once again

⟶ Title | Blooming Wallflowers ⟶ Pairings | Kim Namjoon x older female reader  ⟶ Genre | Firefighter!Namjoon, Single mother!reader, Smut, Angst ⟶ Word count | 20,800 words ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; allusions of past/toxic relationships, healing, usage of alcohol and drinking, dealing with insecurities, age gap with older female reader (OC is in her mid-30s), trapped in confined spaces; contains explicit smut scenes, including: sexual tension, dirty talk, light restraint, soft dom!Namjoon, switching positions and roles (OC taking control at some point), clothed foreplay, grinding, dry humping, thigh riding, implied body worship, breasts play, fingering, clit play, pussy slapping, riding, grinding, semi-public sex (does dining room count?), pet names, groping, biting, edging, oral sex (female receiving), minor hand-job, panty ripping, clit biting, panty sniffing, praise kink, hair pulling, rough sex, protective sex, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, overstimulation.  ⟶ Author’s Note | Written as a commission for @KimCheeHoo | I’m so sorry this took me forever to finish. Thank you so much for commissioning me and for your endless support. I hope you’ll enjoy this story. Have fun reading!  ⟶ Story Note 1 | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs). This story has POV switches, and this is roughly edited, so forgive me for any mistakes. Banner design made by me, age warning divider by @/cafekitsune | Posted in: September 25th, 2024 by @yoonia

⟶ Also written as part of the @bangtanwritershq “Got A Secret, Can You Keep It?” Third Quarter 2024 writing event! ⟡ AU type: Hold Me Tight - Dilf/Milf AU ⟡ Themes: Age Gap, Situationship ⟡ Inclusions: Edging, Fingering, Angst/Hurt, Restraints

⟶ Music companion | Blue Rain, Make You Mine ⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Taglist | Ko-fi | Commission  ⟶ Read on AO3

On some days, you would feel like you are finally getting your shit together. 

But today is not one of those days. 

“Mommy! Hana is trying to bite me!” You hear your oldest whine as she hugs the pancake batter box to her chest. Shaking your head, you can only guess that her sister has been trying to take that box away from her hands. 

“No, I did not!” Hana, your youngest daughter argues back, “Mommy, Suzy won’t let me use the scanning thingy.” 

Suzy narrows her eyes and scoffs. She has been doing this expression a lot lately. It took you weeks after you first saw her making such an expression to figure out that she had somehow gotten it from you. Hana’s new biting habit, however, is something that you have yet to figure out how and when it started. 

“You’re such a baby,” Suzy says, rolling her eyes, which only riles up her sister more.  

“I am not!” 

“Yes, you are. That’s why you can’t do this. Babies don’t do what grown-ups do.” 

Sullen, Hana props her hands on her hips and lifts her chin, as if it would make her look bigger against her sister while whining, “But you’re not a grown-up too!” 

Watching them go at each other, you cannot decide whether you want to laugh or cry. 

Hana’s attitude reminds you of someone. You, perhaps, no doubt as the only role model she currently has to copy some of that sassy attitude from. You probably should feel embarrassed—deep down, you do, you are somewhere in public, after all—as the girls continue fighting, their voices loud enough to draw some attention, with the addition of being super dramatic about it. 

Only for them to have a turn at helping you with the self-checkout counter. 

You know the reason why you cannot find it in you to be mad at them. Not when the girls are showing you that they are the perfect carbon copy of you—not that you are the kind to have a tantrum in the middle of the supermarket, at least not at this age—and when they are always full of surprises. And you cannot deny that they are so stinking cute. 

Suzy, the bigger one out of the two, is mostly quiet and sweet. As a six-year-old girl, only weeks away towards her seventh, she often makes people think that she is a bit older than she truly is with how calm she acts around others. Until recently, she has always been so shy. But that is only until the moment her little sister starts acting out and then she would react so strongly to her tantrum—just like what she is doing now. 

Hana, on the other hand, is more brave and confident, and a bit too smart for her own good. Always so curious and mischievous, and always loves to copy whatever her big sister is up to. And she is always so headstrong that nothing can stop her whenever she wants something. 

She just turned four, and you were sure that she could barely speak full sentences just a year ago. That period of time feels so long ago as you watch her arguing with her sister, with perfect sound of mind, clear words and reasonings, a sign that she is growing up a bit too soon. 

“Girls, please stop screaming at each other,” you try to calmly separate them. 

You have no idea what is happening. Normally, your girls would know perfectly well how to behave. They take great pride in being your ‘little helpers’ and it isn’t rare for you to bring them with you when you are out buying groceries. 

For some reason, they have been like this all day. Constantly arguing and making a fuss over everything. Even to the smallest things. 

“You can take turns using the scanner. Let Suzy finish scanning the pancake batter, then you can do yours, Hana. Here—” 

Reaching into the shopping cart, you grab the box of cookies that you don’t remember placing inside the cart and try to hand it over to Hana. Only for it to slip out of your hand when both Suzy and Hana try to reach for it. Both insisting on taking it and having their turn. 

“Motherfucker,” you mutter under your breath as the box slides on the floor, and both girls immediately launch into another series of arguments, blaming each other for dropping the box and getting you angry. 

Tears are pooling in the corner of your eyes, and the quick switch of your mood isn’t unnoticeable for your girls as they both grow still. As if they are expecting you to snap. You bite your lips, trying your best not to. 

Just as you take a deep breath to compose yourself, a shadow comes to your side, picking up the fallen box and handing it to you.

“Excuse me,” a deep voice speaks, snapping you out of it, only to pull you into a dreamy trance the moment you get a look at his face and see his smile. The dimple on his cheek distracts you from your distraught that your mind becomes numb for a moment. 

“Hi there, do you need any help?” 

“Uhm, not really. It’s fine,” you answer, barely getting a word out when it feels like your brain has short-circuited. You shake your head, noticing his extended hand, offering you the box that you dropped earlier. “Oh, thank you,” you say to him, smiling apologetically as you take the box from his hand. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure why my girls are acting like this. They’re not usually this dramatic.” 

“That’s okay. Kids will be kids, right?” His eyes flicker towards your girls. Suzy, still in shock, is standing right by the cart while clutching the box of pancake batter to her chest, while Hana is clinging to your leg, almost hiding. “I don’t think you remember me, but—” The kind stranger offers the same hand to you to shake as he introduces himself, “I’m Namjoon. I just moved in a couple of doors away.” 

Once the information sets in, everything clicks. “Oh, yes. That’s right. I do remember.” 

All of a sudden, your memory takes you to last weekend, when you joined a cookout event held by one of your neighbours. The gathering was initially meant to celebrate their 25th anniversary, and you recall how they extended the celebration to welcome the new neighbour arriving in your block. You were so tired that night and were so focused on watching your kids that everything seemed to flash by, but you do recall gossiping with one of your neighbours, Ella—the only other single mom of the group—about how hot and stunning the newcomer looked. 

Blinking away the memory, you offer him another smile. “I’m sorry, I think the stress got to me. But I do remember you, although I don’t think we had enough time to chat.” 

“It’s fine. I won’t blame you, given the circumstances,” he says, and that cute dimple appears again. He turns to your kids next, bending a bit lower to match their height. “Hi, there. Are you girls trying to help your mom with the checkout?” 

Suzy presses her lips together, too shy to speak, but Hana is always happy to offer an answer. “Suzy won’t let me help.” You look down to see her pouting her lips, yet her eyes are still wide, looking curious and intrigued by this friendly stranger. Once again, something that you might share with your girl. 

“Well, I haven’t checked out my things and I might need a little help. So why don’t we let your sister help your mom, and you help me with mine?” he offers Hana with a smile as he points at his shopping basket, which is barely half full. Any adult would notice that he wouldn’t be needing much help with them, but Hana immediately perks up at his generous offer. 

“Is that really okay with you?” you ask, worrying about troubling him when you barely know him at all and letting your daughter out of your sight. 

As if he knows what you are thinking, he points over his shoulder at the next counter, which is only recently vacant. “I’ll take the next counter, so you can see and hear us all the time.” 

A sigh of relief escapes you. For some reason, looking at him alone is enough to reassure you and make you trust him. Maybe it’s the dimple. “Right. Okay,” you say to him, nodding. “Go ahead, honey. Help the nice mister with his groceries. But promise me that you’ll be good.” 

“‘Kay!” Hana easily agrees, getting overly excited that she has been given something else to do. “I promise, Mommy.” 

Find the beauty in the chaos. 

You remember reading that sentence somewhere. Perhaps from one of your favourite romance novels or one of those self-help books that your mother bought you during your darkest time. 

Each time you are having a hard time, be it from work, from dealing with household chores, or from caring for your daughters, you will always remember those words to keep your composure. Just like how you kept repeating those same words moments ago while you were stressing over your kids, when you tried to remain calm and sane. 

You didn’t expect the beauty to come and find you in your chaos instead. 

Having someone helping you just when you are starting to lose your calm feels like a blessing from the universe. 

Once peace has been regained, everything seems to return back to normal. Almost as if your daughters’ tantrum and fight never happened. 

While you work together with Suzy, who is enjoying her role as your little assistant, her smile widening each time the items go through, you can hear the sound of soft giggling from nearby as Hana does the same with her new friend. 

And Namjoon, the kind stranger and your saviour of the day, is making it fun by playing a little game with your little girl using the scanner and his groceries, drawing smiles and laughter from Hana, her little drama earlier forgotten. Soon enough, they are done, yet Hana remains by Namjoon’s side, almost clinging to his strong arm as she chatters away while he listens closely, hanging to every word she says. 

It appears that your little girl has completely become infatuated with the man. You cannot blame her though, since the man is quite easy in the eye. You have even noticed some of the women passing by looking over, and it surprises you how quickly it is making you feel territorial about him. 

“Thank you so much for your help. I truly appreciate it.” 

And you mean every word, seeing that not only has he helped solve your little problem with your demanding daughters, he also stays long enough to walk you to your car. If that isn’t enough to make you feel as if you have been transferred into another dimension, he has somehow gotten your daughter lifted in one arm, while he carries his grocery bag in the other. 

“It’s nothing, really. I enjoyed talking to your sweet girl,” he says, once again showing his dimple, and you can swear that you are swooning just by the look of it. Perhaps it’s his voice that does it to you; the deep timbre that makes you feel warm inside. It might also be the way he glances at Hana, not even showing any sign that he is getting annoyed for having his evening thwarted by having to deal with little girls and their very disorganised mother. 

“I mean it. You could’ve just walked past and didn’t offer anything, but you still did. You’re even walking us out to the car.” You sigh, recalling the bitter memory of the drama earlier. Glancing at him, you realise that Hana has become extremely silent. “Please tell me Hana isn’t falling asleep on your shoulder.” 

Namjoon lets out a soft chuckle as he takes a peek at Hana’s face, her cheeks smushed against his broad shoulder as if she has found the perfect place to rest her head on. “I think she’s about to.” 

Biting your lips, you hold back the sound that almost comes involuntarily out of you, because you can almost hear your ovaries exploding. 

Namjoon helps put Hana into her kiddie seat in the backseat of the car while you strap Suzy in right beside her. “You seem like you’ve done this before,” you let it slip, and you quickly move your hand to cover your mouth. “I’m so sorry. You’ve been so nice and here I am, sounding too presumptuous.” 

“It’s okay. Most of my friends have kids, and I’ve helped them once or twice whenever I’m free. I also have a niece from my sister, which gave me a chance to practice.” 

You take a peek at his grocery bag and remember what you saw in it—a box of beer, a couple of boxes of microwave dinners, and some snacks—and feel the urge to cook him dinner. Just to pay him a favour. 

Yes, that’s what it is. Not that you are eager to have him over for dinner or invite him into your home for anything other than. 

The offer is there, hanging at the tip of your tongue. But then you bite your lips, your insecurities and doubts rearing their ugly head, making you feel so small that you take a step back and simply say, “Thank you again. I’m so sorry for all the trouble.” 

Namjoon shrugs it off. “It was a pleasure to help.” 

Nodding, you look around, trying to find a distraction. You quickly notice that most of the cars parked near yours have gone away. “Are you—where did you park your car?”

The dimple on his cheek appears again when he shows you a bashful smile. “I don’t drive a car, actually,” he says, grinning and rubbing the back of his head. “I rode a bike here.” 

“A—bike?” You resist the urge to look around, just to be sure. Riding a bike at this time at night? You have no idea whether to feel amazed or baffled. Perhaps both. 

Seeing your reaction makes him laugh, and you somehow decide that you like the sound of it. “Yeah, I always ride a bike to the gym, and I was just heading home from there when I decided to make a quick stop to grab some sustenance for the evening.” 

Hiking the grocery bag in his arm higher, Namjoon takes a step back. That is when you notice the bag hanging from his shoulder. The one that wasn’t weighed down by Hana’s little head. 

Okay, you have officially decided to be amazed. Is this guy for real? 

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around?” He asks, snapping you back to the present before your mind starts picturing him carrying something else on those shoulders. 

No, none of it involves you. 

Maybe. 

You shake your head and muster a smile. “Oh, you betcha. You’ll definitely see us more often. Especially now that Hana has decided to like you.” 

You linger at the driver’s side of your car, hands on the door, yet your body refuses to slide in. You have no idea what seems to be drawing you towards him. Whatever it is, it makes you not want to leave. 

Namjoon tilts his head, as if noticing your hesitation to leave first. “Go on, I’ll watch you until you’re out there safely.” 

You open your mouth, almost ready to tell him to get back on his way before realising that the parking lot is quiet. Too quiet. And you have to admit that ever since you were left with only your two girls, you have been feeling a bit more vulnerable. Choosing to accept his offer of staying until you are safe to go—and feeling warm in the chest for having someone care enough to do so—you nod your head and slip into your car. 

Once you are strapped in, you look out the window to wave him goodbye. 

“Drive safe,” he says, and then the dimple reappears when he smiles, almost causing you to stutter. 

“Yes, um. You too.” 

Hana’s eyes flutter open just as Namjoon takes a peek into the backseat window to say goodbye to the girls. 

“Bye, Mista Joonie!” she cheerfully shouts, as if she wasn’t falling asleep in his arm just moments ago.

“Goodbye, Mister,” Suzy chimes in with a shy smile, waving her hand at Namjoon which he returns with a small wave.

“I’ll see you girls around!” 

Giving him one last wave and a smile, you begin to drive away. You can still see him through the rearview mirror, standing by and watching you go, until you are almost out of the lot and you see his figure running in the distance to get back to his bike. It’s brief, but there is something about this chance encounter that makes you feel bitter about leaving. 

Even if, deep down, you know that you will see him again soon. 

Perhaps I should’ve offered and invited him for dinner, after all. 

There is truly no beauty in this chaos. 

Even if there is, it would be impossible for you to see it. Not in moments like this.

It seems like the entire universe is out to get you this week, as nothing seems to be aligning the way it should have. The whole office has been in complete havoc all morning. Typical for Blackwell Press, the publishing company you are working with, to have the final week of the month filled with all the hustle. With everyone getting caught in deadlines, meetings and conference calls held back to back, and your own work piling up, it almost seems impossible for things to get even worse. 

But, of course, it eventually did. 

Offices don’t randomly get caught on fire during the daytime, when there are people—many of them—inside. Elevators don’t randomly get stuck merely seconds after the fire alarm starts blaring across the building.

Okay, this elevator had gotten stuck before, during that one time some staff were working late at night and the machine suddenly failed to work. Everyone has been joking about it happening again during a busy day, and it feels like karma that it has to happen again now. 

But must it happen when you are inside it?

The steady hum of the elevator suddenly turned into a deafening silence just moments ago, and the only thing you can do now is to stand frozen in the flickering light, wondering what is going on. Trapped between floors, the confined space appears in your mind as if closing in on you, the walls shrinking with every breath. The only reprieve you are given is the fact that you are not in it on your own. 

Your heart is pounding in your chest, louder than the faint crackle of the intercom as Daniel, the Marketing guy, tries to contact the security staff downstairs through the intercom. His voice remains calm despite the constant crackling sound each time they try to respond, while the other Marketing staff present with you, Jae, has long discarded his suit in his effort to calm himself. 

You take shallow breaths to keep yourself from panicking, all while trying to listen to the soft hum of their voices as they talk about what to do, just to keep your mind from wandering towards dark places. Right beside you, Lily, the only member of the Editor team aside yourself, is slowly losing her calm. 

At the sudden halt of the elevator, she had reached out to grab the sleeve of your blouse as if searching for support. As seconds tick by, her grip on your sleeve tightens as she tries to control her breath, her eyes locked on the digital screen that is no longer displaying a floor number. And you let her cling to you, even when you feel like you need some added strength for yourself. 

It was by mere coincidence that the four of you are stuck here together. 

You were the last ones to leave the conference room after the latest meeting, having been the ones responsible for providing the items for the meeting. As fate has it, merely seconds after the doors were closed and the elevator had only started moving, the fire alarm started blaring through the building, and everything came to a halt. 

“They’re saying that help is on its way,” says Daniel, relaying the message that he just received from the intercom, his voice becomes the calm in this dire situation. 

You find yourself feeling grateful that at least one of you manages to hear the voice coming through the intercom, while you haven’t been able to focus on anything at all. Nothing but the sound of your breathing, the rapid sound of your heartbeat, and at the way the air seems to be growing stale with four people sharing the same oxygen in this tight space. 

“What did they say? Is it connected to the fire alarm?” you try to ask, hoping that getting some positive news might help clear your thoughts. Even if just a little. 

“No, they didn’t say anything,” Daniel says with a strained voice, possibly due to reality finally sinking in once the intercom stops making any sound to respond. 

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jae leans back against the metal railing and sighs. “Let’s just hope that we’re not anywhere close to the fire, and it’s just some issues with the electricity,” he adds while trying his best to remain calm. But it doesn’t help make you feel any calmer when his eyes begin wandering at every visible gap and crevice as he speaks, as if making sure that he isn’t seeing any smoke filtering into the elevator. 

It makes you feel uneasy to see this. Every bit of calmness that you still have begins chipping away. 

Soon, silence falls as everyone tries their best to remain still and composed while waiting for help to come. The minutes drag on like hours, allowing your thoughts to wander into a darker place and letting your doubt and fear sink in. 

Is the building really burning? 

Why are we stuck here? How long are we supposed to wait?

What happens if help doesn’t come? 

What about my girls? What will happen to them if I—

You blink away the tears forming in your eyes at the thought of not returning home to your girls. The thought of leaving them behind hurts you beyond words that you are beginning to lose hope. 

Gripping the metal railing behind you tightly, you close your eyes and begin to pray. And you continue to pray as time slips away in the dim, stalled box. Please, you beg whoever is listening. Please, someone—

A loud clatter breaks the silence, causing everyone to jerk their heads up, all eyes looking around to find its source. Right as Jae is about to speak, the clattering stops and comes a muffled voice from somewhere above.

"Hello? Can you hear me?" The voice is clear now, firm but calming, and somewhat familiar. But your mind is a jumbled mess of worry and bewilderment that you cannot figure out the reason why you would think that way. 

"Yes!" Jae calls back after looking around, seeing how everyone is stunned to silence, “Yes, we can hear you!”

"Stay calm," the voice calmly instructs from above. “We’re from the firefighters. We're going to get you out."

You feel your knees weakening with relief. Even the others collectively exhale deep sighs of relief and Lily begins to loosen her hold on the sleeve of your blouse. “Okay,” she whispers, steadying herself. “We’re going to be okay.” 

Daniel nods when he sees that everyone is calmer. “Okay, we’re ready!” he shouts to the person on the other side as he braces against the cool metal wall. 

Soon, you hear a low, scraping sound against the elevator door, followed by the clank of tools echoing through the small chamber. The elevator shirts slightly upon impact, causing everyone to gasp and instinctively start stepping away from the door. Before panic starts to set back in, the firefighter’s voice cuts through again, calming everyone down.  

"We're going to manually open the doors. You might feel the elevator shift a little—don't worry. You're safe."

Safe. 

The word echoes through your mind, acting like a spell as it brings some reassurance. Something for you to cling to. The clanking sounds of the tool returns just as you start hearing the firefighter coordinating with his team outside. 

More creaks and groans follow next, lasting for a short while, and then—light appears. The doors start inching open, revealing the gap between the elevator floor and the hallway above. Two strong hands appear from the gap, pulling the doors wider until there is enough space for you to see your rescuers in their fire gear, all focused and ready to pull everyone out.

One firefighter peeks through the opened doors with a smile. “Alright, who’s up first?” 

Both men who are with you step aside, allowing either you or Lily to get out first. So you push Lily forward, letting her get helped first before you take your turn. 

"Alright, just one step up," the firefighter says, reaching down with an outstretched hand. "Take my hand, we’ve got you."

You hesitate only for a moment before grasping his hand, his hold feels solid and reassuring. You can feel the strength in his grip as he hoists you up and out of the elevator, the cool rush of fresh air hitting you like a wave of relief. Your legs tremble as they touch solid ground that you nearly fall, yet the kind firefighter holds you up by your arms, keeping you steady as he sets you aside so that the other members of his team can start helping the men out.

"You're okay now," the firefighter says, his voice softer now. "Just breathe. You’re safe."

Nodding, you close your eyes, allowing yourself to feel the weight of your fear melting away. Still unable to speak, you glance back at the elevator, seeing it still wedged between floors, and feel a shiver run through you as you remember that you had just been inside it moments ago. But as you look around, watching the firefighters handling the situation, helping the other three who had just gotten pulled out to get help, the terror that was gripping at you begins to loosen its hold. 

With a relieved sigh, you straighten up and turn back to your saviour, the firefighter who had just pulled you out and is still holding you up. The moment you see his face, you finally understand why his voice felt so familiar, and why you could easily find calmness when you first heard him speak. 

“Namjoon,” you whisper his name, drawing a smile to his face, showing you the small dimple which had been in your mind ever since the night you last met. 

“I told you we’d meet again soon.”  

“Is this really necessary?” 

You are sitting at the corner of the building’s main lobby, together with the other three who had gotten stuck with you in the elevator. Other staff have also been evacuated here while the firefighters are working to find the source of the problem. 

Namely, the reason why the fire alarm went off when there was no sign of the building burning anywhere. 

Right by your side, Jae is being checked by the medical team when it is quite obvious that all the man wants to do is to get back to his office. 

“You were under duress just moments ago, Sir. We need to check your vitals to make sure that there are no other issues with your body that the incident may have caused before letting you go.” 

“Let the boy do his job so we can all go back to the office,” Daniel chimes in just as he is done being checked out and the medic moves to Lily next. The poor girl has yet to regain some colour on her pale face, which makes you worried. “Wait, we’re allowed to go back to our office, right?” 

The medical staff nods and talks about waiting until everyone gets clearance from the investigation team before going back up. After getting your turn for the quick check-up, you wander off a bit between the staff lingering around, feeling too restless to sit still. 

Before you realise what you are doing, you begin searching for a familiar figure between the throng of people, and you don’t stop until you see a group of firefighters returning to the lobby after checking the floors above. One of them, who appears to be the team leader, walks towards the head of security and the Head Editor waiting close by. 

“It came from smoke forming in the break room. Someone must’ve burned something in the microwave or forgot to pull it out and the smoke triggered the alarm,” you hear the team leader speak, explaining the cause of the fire alarm. “The faulty alarm system made the electrical circuit go haywire, which made it seem like it was a bigger fire than it was, and it may have caused the elevator cables to short-circuit.” The team leader hands the draft of their investigation report to the head of security. “The elevator needs to get checked too, since the cables are old. You need to get it done soon.” 

The Head Editor—your boss—takes a peek at the report and shakes his head. “I’m gonna need to contact building management—” 

His voice begins to fade away when a movement catches your eyes, and you see the person that you have been searching for separating himself from the group to approach you.

Namjoon, who turns out to be your saviour, walks up to you with a smile on his face. “Are you okay?” he asks, the familiar deep timber of his voice brings some warmth to your chest, telling you that this isn’t a figment of your imagination.

“Yeah,” you answer with a small voice, still too dumbfounded to see him standing before you like this. “Uhm, yes, I’m fine. Thank you so much for saving my life.” The moment you say this, a soft giggle slips right out of you. “This makes it the second time this week you’ve come to my rescue.” 

Namjoon’s smile widens. “I’m just glad to help.” 

He takes a look around. “So, a publishing agency, hmm? What is it exactly that you do here, if I may ask?” His curious gaze lands on you and it feels like he is trying to look into your soul. “I hope it’s okay if I’m curious, since you now know what I do for a living.” 

You let out a nervous laugh. “I don’t mind at all,” you admit to him before answering, “I’m an editor. I edit manuscripts for upcoming books before they are sent out to print and get officially published. You can say that I’m being paid to read and comment, and gain the extra privilege of reading the books first before everyone else does.” 

“That sounds interesting,” he says, raising his brows. “I don’t suppose you’ll be getting back to work after this?” 

“I’m not entirely sure. But I don’t think I will.” You glance around at your co-workers. Neither seems to have any desire of going back to work after this whole incident. Sharing the same feeling with the others around you, you feel a strong desire of seeing your girls and spending time with them instead. “I might get back to my office only to pack up my stuff and leave early, pick up Hana from daycare and have a little cool down at the park before we go and pick up her sister. I know she’ll love it.” 

At the mention of your girls, Namjoon’s smile softens. “That sounds fun.” 

For a moment, it looks as if he wants to say something, only to stop himself when someone from his team calls his name. Namjoon looks over his shoulder and nods. “Unfortunately, one of us has to go back to work,” he says with an apologetic smile, “I’ll see you around. Hopefully, not in another case of emergency?” 

You cannot help but smile. “I promise to try and keep things less dramatic next time.” 

With a grin on his face, Namjoon turns away and joins the other men from his team as they prepare to leave. You watch him for a moment longer, blending in with the rest of them until someone comes to your side. 

“So—” Your friend, Emma, says as she slips her arm around yours. “Who’s the hunk?” 

You roll your eyes and smile. “He’s a new neighbour. He helped me the last time we met,” you answer, still stunned with everything that has been going on. You never expected that you would be seeing Namjoon again, and for him to once again save the day for you, “Which makes this the second time he’s helped me.”

“Oooh, sounds like a story premise in the making. It’ll make a good romance prompt, don’t you think?” she teases, “A firefighter who keeps crossing paths with a single mother, saving her during a series of misfortunes and ending up falling in love after the single mom starts paying his goodwill with homecooked meals and other”—she starts wiggling her eyebrows—”raunchy favours.” 

You laugh at her comment, even if it doesn’t stop you feeling your cheeks flushing warmly. “Well, I’m not the writer. You can probably pitch that idea to the indie author you’ve been working with.” 

“Who? Sana? Hmmm, you’re right. This is kind of her thing. Let me take notes on that,” Emma says as she pulls out her phone and starts tapping on the screen, no doubt writing the idea down on her notes app. “I might advice her to make it extra spicy too.” 

As you continue to chat with your friend about books and promising writers, you let her guide you back towards the Editor team who are gathering at one corner of the room with your boss, talking about the incidents and what they are going to do next. 

“Are you heading back up?” Emma asks you before you join the others, and you recall your plan about spending the rest of the afternoon with your youngest. 

“I’m thinking of grabbing my stuff and head back home if Adam lets us go for the day,” you say to her, referring to your boss, the Head Editor who isn’t showing any sign of wanting to back to work. Much like everyone else. “I’ll probably end up losing sleep again if I want to finish editing tonight.” 

You let out a sigh, thinking about the lack of sleep you have been having this week. With new books coming up to prints this month, and new writers struggling to keep up with the schedule that you have set up for them, you have been staying up a lot of nights to catch up with editing. 

“But it’s still a lot better to work from home than being stuck here and freaking out about the elevator and false fire alarms all day,” you add, almost like reassuring yourself that it would be okay to sacrifice more sleep for the sake of your sanity.  

“Good point. I bet we can sweet talk Adam to let us go early today. I don’t see the point in working when everyone is stressed out anyway,” Emma jokes as she points her chin at Adam, whose eyebrows are furrowed deeply as he continues chatting with his assistants. “At least, thanks to this, I think we deserve to let off some steam. What do you say we go out this Saturday? Grab some drinks, dance a bit, maybe you can practice your flirting skills so you can make use of them the next time you meet up with that cutie again.”  

You make a face as you imagine yourself trying to make a move on Namjoon, which only makes her laugh. “I’m serious. He seems nice, aside from being hot, and it’ll be a missed opportunity not to tap that.” 

You roll your eyes, but a part of you is starting to consider it. As much as you love being a mother and to dedicate your entire life to your career, you cannot deny that you do want to start dating again. 

And the offer to have a night out where you can let off some steam and let loose does sound enticing. Emma and some of your other friends have been asking you to join them to hangout on drink nights lately. But with a lot of deadlines and tight schedules weighing down on you, and no one to watch your girls while you are out, you have been declining their invitation. But after dealing with such a hard week, you feel like you deserve a night to yourself. 

“I do need a stiff drink.” Sighing, you remember that your daughters are going to be spending the weekends with your parents. It wouldn’t hurt to use that free time to have some fun for a change instead of staying in. “All right. Count me in.” 

Emma cheers. “Great! I’ll call the other girls to see if they’ll come too it so we can all catch up. Chloe called the other day and shared about wanting to see us and give us the souvenirs she got from her trip to Singapore last week, so she’ll probably be excited too,” she says, mentioning another fellow Editor who used to work in the same company as the two of you before moving up to a bigger publishing agency. 

Just then, you see a small group of firefighters walking across the lobby, heading towards the front door to leave. Among them is Namjoon, who seems to feel your gaze on him. As you continue watching him walk alongside his team, he suddenly turns. His eyes quickly find you among the crowd lingering in the lobby, his smile growing wider as he raises his hand to wave goodbye. 

Emma makes a humming sound when she sees this exchange happening and whispers, “Promise me you’ll tell me more about that hot firefighter of yours.” 

Keeping your eyes on Namjoon, you merely smile and wave your hand back at him. “Mhmm. We’ll see.” 

It’s a typical Saturday night at Cipher, the rustic-style bar that Namjoon has frequented ever since he moved into the city. 

The bar had a different name just a couple of years ago, when Namjoon first came by during one of his previous visits to this city, and with different types of patrons as well. The only thing that remains the same since is the man who is working behind the bar, mixing drinks while chatting with whoever decides to hang around the bartender. 

“How is living in the city going for you so far?” Jin, the bartender and owner of the bar, asks Namjoon while he is busy wiping clean glasses between drink orders. 

Twisting the glass in his hand, Namjoon shrugs before taking a sip of his whiskey. “Not too bad. I can’t say that I’ve gotten to fit right in with the neighbours. But things are doing good at work, so that’s good enough for now.” 

“Seeing anyone already?” Jin teases, making Namjoon laugh. 

“Are you seriously asking me that?” He shakes his head. “It might be too soon for me to get back out there into the dating scene.” 

“You? Not sure about getting out to meet up with women?” Jin laughs. “Look, I’m not talking about getting into a relationship or finding someone else to propose. I’m talking about having fun. Go pick someone you find attractive tonight and take her home with you. You deserve a good time too, you know.” 

Namjoon’s throat feels tight just by hearing that word—propose—only because it brings back a painful memory; of the days filled with fights and shouting matches and distrust, and the desperation he felt to hold on to the hope that things would have gotten better if he chose to settle down. 

Shaking the sudden wave of painful memory doesn’t really help when he thinks about opening himself to finding instant pleasure to replace what was lost to him.  

Namjoon may not be a stranger to having a one-night stand. But it has been a while since the last time he had one. Those days are way behind him. Long before he decided to settle down, only to have everything fall apart and he was forced to start over in a new place just to survive. 

He knows all too well that sharing his bed with someone for one night only does little to fill the void. He knows from what he experienced during his wild days in the past. Physically, he might not have been alone for those short hours, but once it ended, it only made him feel even more lonely than before. At some point, the loneliness started to feel painful. It was what had first led him to start longing for something more. 

He once thought that he had found more. Only that it had been with the wrong person, at the wrong time, and he found himself back to square one when everything crumbled. 

He took it all thinking that it might have been karma. Bad fate came to bite him on the ass after all the years he had his fun chasing women, breaking hearts here and there, until he got his own heart broken to pieces just months ago. 

It was the reality check he needed. One that he has yet to completely recover from. The pain and the memories of the past would sometimes come creeping in, staying with him as if they had been woven into the cracks that were left inside him to remain even after he walked away. It kept chasing him during the nights he spent alone—and he had tried to go back to the game once or twice, only to fail to gain anything out of it—which was why he decided to move away. 

Start anew. Meet new people. And then one day, maybe—

He knows that time will eventually help him heal, just like how time has healed many of the scars he had gained through the years of working with danger, chasing fires and pulling people out of crumbling buildings and crashed cars and stuck elevators—a flutter of a smile comes to his face as he recalls the most recent incident—while risking his own body, his life, doing so. 

“I can’t believe I’m getting an advice about hooking up from someone like you,” Namjoon chuckles, as he brushes those thoughts away, choosing to tease Jin instead. “Someone who claims to be looking into settling down.” 

Jin scoffs. “I’m saying this for your own good.” Propping his elbows on top of the bar counter, Jin leans forward. “You moved here to start over. Not to stop living altogether.” 

Namjoon gives him a bitter smile. “Right now, I’m only going to spend the night nursing my drink, enjoying my downtime while I’m off duty.” 

Shaking his head, Jin leans back and grabs the empty glasses left behind from the patrons who had just stepped away from the seats next to Namjoon. “Have you thought about my offer?” Jin asks, “About working here on the nights you’re not on night shift? At least, that way, you might open up your eyes and see all the opportunities you can get by standing right here at the bar, talking to people.” 

“And live a double life like you do?” Namjoon teases him, which earns him a wink from Jin, before the bartender saunters away as another customer waves him down to order a drink. 

Once again left with his own thoughts, Namjoon allows himself to sink back into old memories; all the good and the bad; the long-lost hope that he once had and is now trying to rebuild. 

“Wanna have another?” Jin asks when he returns, noticing that Namjoon has almost emptied his glass yet again. “Got enough time to think about what I was saying?” 

“Maybe,” Namjoon says as he tosses his drink down. He slides the empty glass back to Jin. “Get me a double of that.” 

As Jin steps back to grab his drinks, Namjoon notices the group of patrons crowding nearby spreading away, giving him a clear sight of the bar’s entrance door just as a group of women enters, laughing and chatting with each other without realising the attention they are gaining. All of a sudden, Namjoon feels as if the air around him shifts, right the moment his eyes capture the sight of a familiar smile among the ladies who seem to have come for a good time. 

“Can I ask you something?” Namjoon asks Jin when the bartender returns with his drink. 

“Sure. Anything.” 

“Do you believe in fate?” 

Jin laughs. “Me? I can’t really say I don’t believe it, but it’s also not something I’d talk about while tending the bar. Why?” 

Namjoon turns back to look at the group of newcomers, his smile growing wider when his eyes meet yours as you look up, as if you can feel his presence as he sits across the room, watching you with a new feeling of hope brewing inside his chest. Life can be cruel sometimes, he silently admits. Yet it seems that life is slowly turning to his favour when you unexpectedly appear right before his eyes, right when he is about to call it a night and return to his lonely home. 

“Well, I think I am starting to believe it.” 

“I feel like we should make a toast,” Emma starts once you manage to find an open table. She holds up her glass of Cosmo before anyone can start enjoying their drinks. 

“What are we toasting for?” Ina asks, just as Emma shouts, 

“To friendship.” 

Chloe snorts into her drink and shakes her head. “What are we, in high school?” 

“Hey, I mean, it works,” Emma whines, “Seeing that we still hang out together even after you and Ina moved to different companies.” 

Thinking to yourself, you think about the long week that you just had and offer, “How about a toast to surviving life?” 

“I’ll toast to that,” Ina quickly agrees with a nod, and you can totally understand why. Being the oldest one of the group, she has a ton of things on her plate among her busy days at work; from dealing with her teenage boys back home who are beginning to act up; a husband who is busy preparing for his promotion; and a sick cat back home. 

“I love my boys, but sometimes I wish they were still the same adorable toddlers who would listen to me instead of fighting me all the time,” she would often say, though you could always see the love in her eyes even as she complains about them. “Are you sure you don’t want to trade them with your girls? Just a night will be enough for me. I promise.” 

Chloe raises her glass to join the toast, saying, “I’ll toast to that too. These past few weeks have been pretty crazy for me. I want to stay in bed with my hubby for the next few weeks and not answer any texts or phone calls.” 

Her comment makes you want to take a shot of your drink. You shouldn’t feel envious about her having someone waiting for her back home. You shouldn’t wish that you had someone to share your bed with tonight. You really don’t need to think about having to return home tonight alone, to a quiet home, without your girls waiting back home, without anyone keeping you company.  

The only thing you fear the most about being left alone with your thoughts is to have the ghosts of your past coming back. Memories always come stronger at nights. Taking you back to the days when you were not alone, yet you are made struggling even harder than you are now when you tried to hold on to the crumbling marriage. 

Nobody warned you that falling out of love can be painful. How lonely it made you feel.  It scorned you to the point that you nearly sworn yourself off of love, just to keep your heart save. Whatever was left of it. 

“Then why are you here hanging with us when you have a husband to cuddle with?” Emma teases, her voice snapping you out of it. Then Chloe leans in to hug you from the side. 

“Because I also miss you guys,” she says, drawing everyone’s laughter. 

You share a toast with the girls, clinking the glasses as you cheer, followed by a series of shots, and then a new round of drinks is shared at the table. You continue talking, laughing, catching up about life and sharing gossip and fussing over some problematic authors that both Emma and Chloe had to deal with for the past month. By the time the next round of shots arrives at the table, you notice Emma’s eyes looking over your shoulder and grinning at what she sees.

“Aren’t you going to say hi?” she teases, leaning in to make it less obvious that she has been observing the one person that you have been fighting not to look at. 

You take a careful sip of your Moscow Mule as you think of an excuse. “We already waved at each other when we first came in.” 

Truth be told, you already know that a simple wave was the bare minimum that you could have given him. Seeing Namjoon sitting there at the bar when you first came into this place caught you by surprise that you were left speechless. It was Namjoon who had first smiled at you, and the only thing you could do was wave your hand at him when your legs refused to take you to him.  

“You know that’s not enough.” Emma rolls her eyes. “The guy practically saved your life.” 

Your reaction—or lack thereof—over seeing Namjoon hadn’t gone unnoticed by your friends. But it was Emma who had explained to the others about who Namjoon was, earning you more questions and teasing from the girls which only made it even harder for you to ignore his presence. 

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it if you offer something special tonight for a thank-you gift,” Chloe teases while wiggling her brows. 

You laugh, snorting into your drink. “Sure he will,” you say, as you find it hard to imagine that someone like Namjoon would even be interested in being with someone like you. Not only because you know that he is younger than you, but you also know that there are many women out there—mostly those around his age—that he would find more attractive, compared to a single mom like yourself. 

As always, your insecurities are quick to set in. Before you can drown it with a strong drink, Emma quickly protests, “You’re a MILF, ______. Stop selling yourself short.”

Nodding, Ina gently agrees with her by saying, “You definitely shouldn’t, seeing that he keeps glancing at you.” 

“She means to say that he’s been eye-fucking you since we got here,” Chloe adds, snickering as she glances over her shoulder to catch Namjoon looking over. 

“He so is!” Ina says, leaning across the table. “He’s hot. Go for it.”

Hearing this, you finally take a long sip of your drink, trying to gain some liquid courage. You have only gotten a few glasses of drink, the night has yet grown late, but you have already gotten quite a good buzz going on, and you are using it to grow some courage to look over at him. Sure enough, Namjoon is still there, with a glass of what seems to be whiskey in his hand, and a pair of eyes that are looking straight at you. A smile grows on his face as your gazes meet each other, though it is quickly hidden as he lifts his glass to his lips. 

“See? He’s looking over again.” Emma starts giggling and gently nudges at your shoulder. “Go talk to him and practice that flirting skills of yours.”

“What flirting skills?” you ask while laughing. Deep down, your insecurities are still clawing at you, but having everyone pushing you to do something that you normally wouldn’t do—like flirting with a hot younger guy like Namjoon—is starting to make you want to change your mind. “Okay, but what do I say?” 

“You can start by saying hi,” Ina says. She pushes her appletini in front of you. “Here,” she says. “Finish this, then go talk to him before someone else moves in on that fine piece of ass.”

Chloe nods her head as you pick up the glass of appletini and contemplate what you need to do next. “You can go to the bar and act like you’re there to order drinks from the bartender since we’ll be needing some more drinks.” 

 “Go on,” Emma joins in, obviously enjoying this. 

You exhale a deep breath and bring the glass to your lips. The sweet liquor glides down your throat and you suddenly start wishing that you had gotten something stronger. Lowering the drink, you turn to look for him again. Namjoon isn’t looking at you this time, yet he is still there, talking to the pretty-looking bartender who was the main reason why Emma had chosen to come to this bar—as she seems to be having a sweet crush on the bartender. 

“All right, here I go,” you say, as you finish the drink and muster the will to rise from your seat. Your legs are a bit wobbly when you try to walk across the room, but the muted voices of your friends who are cheering for you from behind give you the boost you need to continue going. 

The floor between your table and the bar has been filled with people dancing while you are drinking, and they come in your way, making you lose sight of Namjoon for a moment. Not being able to see him only makes you feel calmer, until the crowd opens up and you see him once again, still sitting at the bar. Alone. 

Eyes too focused on him, you accidentally bump into someone who walks right into your path. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you immediately apologise while the person simply slides out of your way and returns to his dancing. 

You hear a soft chuckle, a familiar sound that causes your breath to catch. You whip around and your eyes are locked with his. Immediately, something fuzzy builds in your chest, and you almost fall out of step when you notice it. 

Are those butterflies you are feeling inside? You haven’t felt anything remotely like butterflies in—fuck—years. 

As his smile grows wider at the sight of you walking towards him, you try to convince yourself that his presence isn’t affecting you. At all. 

Your lady bits do not quiver for random men. You are certainly not having dirty thoughts about him. You keep telling yourself this as you get closer to him. And yet—

Your heart immediately speeds up at the sound of his voice—calling your name. 

“_______, fancy seeing you here,” he says, looking genuinely pleased that those butterfly wings are beginning to flutter again, causing some funny feelings to rise in your stomach. 

“I could say the same thing. It was a nice surprise to see you,” you respond to him and—fuck, did you really just try flirting with him? “Enjoying your night?” 

“You can say that,” he says with a dimple smile of his, “But I’m finding more reasons to feel good tonight now that you’re here.” 

Damn, he’s good, you wonder as you stifle a smile, and fail. Maybe he should be the one helping you sharpen your flirting skills instead of Emma or the other girls who always start making jokes about it and making you laugh each time you try it on them. 

“A friend of yours?” You turn when the bartender comes, throwing you a smile as he speaks to Namjoon. 

“Jin, this is _______,” Namjoon says, introducing the two of you. “This is Jin, an old friend who first convinced me to move here. He’s the main reason why I hang out at a place like this.” 

You offer your hand to the bartender who takes it with a firm grip. “Hi, it’s nice to see you. I see that you and your friends are having quite a blast.” 

Returning Jin’s smile, you playfully ask him, “Would it be too much if I thank you for encouraging Namjoon to move here?” 

“Nope, not at all,” Jin laughs. “So, what can I get you?” 

You quickly make your order, and while you wait for the bartender to finish preparing the drinks, you take the seat right by Namjoon’s side so you can have a little chat. Either the alcohol is starting to warm you up inside, or Namjoon’s friendly smile is making you more comfortable, every bit of tension you feel is lifted when you begin laughing at his simple jokes. 

Once the drinks are ready, you reluctantly rise to return to your friends to deliver their shots. This time, you have a slight new pep in your footsteps, confidence brewing inside you after realising that you had conquered one of your insecurities tonight by chatting with Namjoon. Your friends welcome you with light cheers, and you celebrate by sharing a shot of whiskey and finishing the rest of your drink. 

It doesn’t take long before your friends decide to end the night. 

Ina is the one to step away first, when her husband calls her about one of their sons who had just gotten caught sneaking through the window after lying about doing his homework in his room. “We don’t know if he snuck out to see a girl or got himself in other kinds of trouble while he was out, but Dan needs me as a backup to get some answers from the little brat,” she says, kissing your cheek when she bids goodbye for the night. 

Chloe is the one who needs to go home next, when her husband keeps calling her about feeling lonely at home. “I can’t tell if it’s sad or cute, but I think I’ve had enough to drink for the night. I already got an Uber picking me up outside.” 

“Are you coming?” Emma asks you, her eyes looking over towards the bar before asking, “Or are you going to stay?” 

You follow her gaze, looking at Namjoon chuckling along with whatever the bartender is saying to him. A part of you is telling you to call it a night, but there is a bigger part of you that feels intrigued, and curious to see what would happen tonight if you choose differently. To be selfish for once. 

“I think I’m going to stay.” 

Your answer brings a smile to Emma’s face. She seems proud and—relieved. You have no idea why she would feel this way over your decision to stay for a man, but she simply nods and says, “All right, then I’ll ride with you, Chloe. I’ll see you on Monday, girl,” she says to you as she leans in for a hug and whispers, “Go get him.” 

You watch your friends go before finishing the rest of your drink and leaving your seat. Before you can change your mind, your legs take you towards the bar, returning to Namjoon’s side as if you are drawn to him like a moth to flame. 

“Are you calling it a night too?” Namjoon asks you when he notices you coming, his gaze flickering to follow your friends as they weave through the crowd to find the exit door, as if expecting to see you following them.  

“I don’t really want to go home yet.” You bite your lips. “I think I’m going to have another drink before leaving. Are you planning on leaving early?” 

The smile that grows on Namjoon’s face makes your heart flutter. He does look good when he smiles. “And waste the chance to drink with you? No way.” You take the empty seat that he offers right next to him, which he gently pulls closer once you are settled in. “Let me order for you. What are you having?”

“Surprise me.” 

Smiling, Namjoon orders you a Moscow Mule, causing you to raise your brows. “You ordered the same drink twice while you were here.” 

“You have quite a good memory,“ you tease him, “Are you sure you don’t work here?” 

Namjoon laughs. His eyes glimmer under the dim lighting when he says, “You’re not the kind of woman that I’d be so easy to forget.”

You can barely hold back from laughing, because you cannot find it in you to agree. 

“You don’t believe me when I say that you’re not easy to forget?” he asks, moving closer to you until you can breathe in the musky cologne he is wearing. 

“Me? I’m nothing special. I’m just”—you breathe out a sigh—”just me.”

He takes your hand, sliding his fingers to your wrist, his thumb finding your pulse where he rubs in circles. “I don’t know you very well—yet—but from what I’ve seen, ‘just you’ seems pretty damn special.”

You laugh again and take a drink, murmuring softly to him, “Thanks.”

He looks down for a moment, as if considering what to say. But he seems more determined when he lifts his gaze and looks back at you. There is something in his eyes which draws out the flutters in your chest. A new look which you have yet to see coming from him during the short time you’ve known him. 

The look which shows a different kind of want.

And you can only guess what he is thinking right now. Biting your lips, you wait until he says the words, because there is nothing that you want more right now but to go with him. You enjoy talking to him, to be in his presence, and you have a feeling that you might enjoy it more if he offers something more. 

It’s just one night, so you can possibly handle it. Right? 

Fuck. All of a sudden, you don’t feel too sure about it. 

But the gentle touch of his fingers on your skin, together with the deep timber of his voice when he hums, is slowly enticing you to open up, to give in to chance. 

Namjoon’s eyes meet yours and the same dimple smile of his returns. You swallow hard, ignoring the sound of your pounding heart as he asks,

“Do you want to get out of here?” 

Biting your lips, you can feel your chest tightening. Your heart beating fast. Hard. Your body moves to lean closer even without you meaning it to. 

“Yes,” you whisper, and his face lights up, as if he was almost sure that you were going to refuse. 

“Your place, or mine?”

A simple question, made with a light tone of voice that sounds almost joking, except that Namjoon’s heart is beating rapidly inside his chest as he says it. He already risked everything when he first asked to take you away from here. Now, it feels as if he is risking a bit more as he waits for your answer. 

You bite your lips, and your hesitance only makes him feel worse. “Is there any difference?” 

Namjoon wants to say, no, it doesn’t. The only thing that matters is for him to be spending this night with you. You push your hair back, and when your eyes meet his, he can almost feel your heart beating right up against his. 

“Are your kids home tonight?” Namjoon tries when you’re not too sure. Somehow, he understands that you might be wary about coming home to his place when you barely know him. 

“No, they’re at my parents.” 

A smile is lifted on his face. “Then are you going to take me home?” 

You return his smile and lean closer. It amazes him how quickly you switch—from shy and hesitant at one point, to feeling more confident and daring the next. And it turns him on even more when you say, “Only if you promise that you’re going to be a good boy.” 

Namjoon calls an Uber to take you both home while you make a quick stop at the restroom before leaving the place. In the short time that he has to wait for you, Namjoon struggles to keep his composure. It’s almost laughable the way it makes him feel like a newbie. For him to feel so nervous as if he is inexperienced in this. 

In a way, this is something new for him. Enough to make him feel exhilarated about what is to come. 

He turns just in time to see you walking up to him. As if your moment away had given you the chance to recoup and find some resolve, you look as if you are shining, your smile looking bright and your eyes filled with lust and want and it takes everything in him not to pull you into his arms here and now just to kiss you senseless. 

“Take me home, mama,” he jokingly says when he opens the car door for you, making you laugh. 

Instead of answering him, you grab the front of his shirt and pull him in with you until you are seated in the backseat of the car together, bringing the heat that you share into the confines of the car as it takes you back home. 

In the tight space within the car, the heat that has been building up between you becomes more palpable. You can tell that he is feeling it too. And he seems to be giving into it, when he keeps running the tips of his fingers from your hand to your wrist, when his knees keep pressing against yours, and when his eyes keep trailing from your face, down to your cleavage, and then back up to your neck, before lingering on your lips. 

He wets his lips, as if he is picturing himself tasting you with a kiss. “Can I be honest with you?” he whispers, leaning closer. 

“Of course.” 

“I…couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admits with a soft chuckle. It seems that his confession surprises him just as much as it does to you. 

“Since the fire alert?” 

“No,” he says with a grin, “ever since the night we first met.” 

Was it at the supermarket? You wonder to yourself, trying to figure out what he could have possibly seen in you that night through the chaos with your girls. 

No, it was before, you begin to realise, as you recall the night of the cookout event at your neighbours’ backyard, when Namjoon lingered close by after sharing a quick chat with you, and when you caught him watching you from the side while you were helping your daughters with their dinner plates. 

“I told myself after watching you go that night that I shouldn’t get my hopes up, since you seemed to have a lot going on already and I probably didn’t deserve any second of your time. But then I saw you at the supermarket and I couldn’t resist saying hello.” His eyes find yours. You have no idea what kind of expression you are giving him while you are loss for words, but Namjoon’s smile softens. “And just when I thought it couldn’t have been more than a coincidence, we got the call to your office and there you were. It feels like we just keep crossing paths with each other. As if I am made to make a move.” 

Noticing that you have grown silent, Namjoon tilts his head and asks, “What’s wrong?” 

With a bitter laugh, you can only shake your head. “Nothing, it’s just—” You bite your lips, hating the way your insecurities have always been able to come to the surface the moment you try to push against your boundaries, when you try to take risks like what you are doing tonight. But you simply cannot help it. The feeling is clawing at your chest that you can barely breathe. “You know you could’ve gotten home with someone else. Someone who isn’t—” 

You try to look away, yet Namjoon isn’t having it. With his fingers on your chin, he turns your face gently so you are forced to look at him again. “Is not—what?” 

Your throat feels tight and your mouth feels bitter when you answer, “Older. A single mom. A—” 

Namjoon presses his thumb on your lips to stop you from speaking further. “Remember what I told you earlier, and I really meant it,” he says, his gaze softening and heating up at the same time. “You are special. If you had said no to me tonight, I would’ve gone home alone, and spent the rest of the night finishing the last cans of beer I still have in my fridge or eating any frozen leftovers I could find before passing out on the couch.” 

You blink. His honesty surprises you, yet you would be lying if you told yourself that it doesn’t make you feel flattered to hear him choosing you. 

As if there is a switch inside you that has been flipped, everything fades to the back of your mind. All the voices that keep putting you down are silenced. The only thing left in your mind is the image of this gorgeous man spending his night alone in his quiet home, eating one of those boxed meals you saw peeking through his grocery bag and downing beers until he falls asleep, and you decide that you are not having it. 

Seems like you are not the only one who needs to take some risks tonight just to experience some changes in life. 

“Yep. That’s it. I’m sending you dinner next time.” 

Namjoon laughs. “What—?” 

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you pull him down to you and press your lips on his, putting his words—and your thoughts—to silence with a kiss. 

“I’m sorry for the mess. The perks of having little kids are always having too many things scattered around the house, and—” 

It is still surprising to see how easy and quickly you change depending on the moment. You keep going from Miss In Control to a more subdued figure filled with insecurities. Namjoon knows that he shouldn’t, but he is adamant about changing that tonight, even if it makes him feel a myriad of things inside when you show multiple sides of you at once. 

“It’s all right,” he cuts you off with a half smile, noticing how nervous you are getting about showing him your home. 

As you move aside to start taking off your shoes and coat, Namjoon kicks his own shoes off and takes a quick glance around. Most of the lights are off, yet he can still see through the dim lighting to see what he needs to see. 

Much like his own house, your place has an open space concept, where everything is visible from the foyer. He looks at the living room to his right, where the flat television hangs against the wall, surrounded by wooden shelves filled with books and trinkets and boxes filled with toys. To his left is the open kitchen, the room is slightly more spacious than his, and cleaner, with a hint of the scent coming from the last meal you cooked today still wafting through the air. 

Truth be told, he doesn’t mind at all about how the house looks like at the moment. He even thinks that your home feels comfy, more welcoming and lively than his own, which makes him feel good and warm inside as he steps onto the threshold of your home. 

Still, right now, he has other—more important—things to pay close attention to.  

Namjoon waits until you are done taking your coat off before approaching you. 

He places an arm around your shoulders, hinting at his need to get closer. When you show no sign of pushing him away, he pulls you towards him gently, and you willingly lean into him until you are engulfed completely in his warmth, and he feels your soft body pressing against his hard muscles. He bends down and your lips meet each other, warm and welcoming as they mesh into a kiss. 

For a split second, Namjoon can feel you hesitating. But then your arms come up to wrap around him before returning the kiss. It feels gentle and soft, yet Namjoon can feel every cell in his body lighting up at the touch, and he allows that hope he ignored before to rise as he melts into the kiss

Namjoon is a firm believer that a person can tell quite a lot about the other by the way they kiss, and that the first kiss will define how the night will continue. 

He feels you parting your lips slowly as your fingers curl into fists, balling the back of his shirt. He can taste the fruity taste of your lip-gloss which you put on during your toilet break before the two of you left the bar, and he can also taste a hint of the drink you had as he lightly brushes the tip of his tongue against yours. 

The simple contact earns a soft hum from your throat, and then you tip your head back and open your mouth, asking him for more. He gladly gives it to you as he slides one hand up your waist and cups your cheek, deepening the kiss. Your grip around him tightens when his tongue pushes past your lips, bringing heat all over your body and his as he devours your mouth, and you respond by pressing your hips into his. 

Feeling like he is burning from within, Namjoon starts to pull away. But you are not having it. You move your hand to his face, and then bring him back down until his lips are back on yours. You take charge this time, kissing him as if your very existence depends on it, and Namjoon smiles into the kiss as he follows your lead.  

Tonight is going to be a good night.

As your mind grows hazy from the heated kiss, you start stumbling back until you are pressed against the front door. 

It rattles under your weight, and starts making other noises when Namjoon presses harder against you the deeper the kiss you share. You feel his feet moving, sliding between your legs, only to stop when his toes come in contact with one of Hana’s squeaky toys that had somehow fallen in the foyer. 

You break away from the kiss at the sound of his deep chuckle. The way he seems more amused than he is annoyed pleases you so that your body grows impossibly hotter. How can something so simple as a guy chuckling over a simple kid toy, completely understanding it instead of getting angry and complaining over something so trivial—just like someone you once knew and wish so badly to forget—look so incredibly hot? 

Expecting to hear him say something about it, you lift your face to look at him, only for Namjoon to bend lower again and try to kiss your lips. Bunching his shirt with your fingers, you stop him and start pushing him through the dark hall and into the kitchen, where you know there won’t be any trail of toys getting in the way. 

Namjoon lets you drag him around with a grin on his face. It seems to please him that you are the one taking the initiative, showing him that you want him just as much as he does. 

As you push him deeper into the kitchen, your hands tracing his hard chest and your lips nipping his jawline, you wonder where all of this confidence is coming from. 

It could be coming from the buzz rushing through your mind and body. It could also be this want inside you which has been lying dormant for so long, awakened simply by the heat of his kiss. Either way, you are surprised to find how easy it is to simply give in. To follow what your heart desires as if it is guiding you through the motions. 

While most of the lights have been turned off when you left your house earlier, the light from the microwave is on, casting a soft, golden glow which falls nicely on him, accentuating every line—both on his face and his body—which you desire so badly to touch and kiss and taste. 

You pull him down for that desirable kiss, and he dives straight down, his lips crashing into yours. And then he starts kissing you fast, hard, as if his very existence depends on this kiss. You kiss him back with the same need, taking his lip between your teeth, drawing a soft sound coming out of his throat. His chest rumbles against yours as he gently pushes you backwards. 

Namjoon pins you against the kitchen counter, placing you between the hard counter and his rock-hard chest. He moves his knees between your legs, keeping them apart. You can feel his cock straining against his jeans as he bucks his hips forward, pressing roughly into your stomach. Then he moves his mouth to your neck, kissing, sucking, making you moan, distracting you from the object of his desire that you want so badly to touch.

Without unlatching his lips from your skin, Namjoon sweeps his fingers across your collarbone, finding the strap from your top that is already hanging off your shoulder. He pulls away, his dark gaze following his fingers as he unhooks the other strap off your shoulder until your top falls down to your waist, exposing your lacy dark purple bra which you had intentionally chosen for the night. 

He watches closely as your chest rises and falls with your ragged breath, murmuring softly, “Beautiful. You are so hot, baby.”

Your entire body shudders with the sound of his deep voice, recognising the hunger in it. Heat forms in your belly after knowing that his words are meant for you. He slowly walks his palms up your body, reaching up to cup your breasts with his strong palms. 

A moan slips out of your lips at his touch, when the gentle pressure he is giving on your mounds sends heated sparks through your body. The sound you are making seems to snap something in him, as he moves his mouth back to yours, kissing you softly, teasing, while his thumbs begin to move over your covered nipples in small circles. 

You draw a sharp inhale of breath at the delightful sensation he is making you feel, which is swallowed by his kiss. Your chest rises, pressing your breasts into his palms. The shiver running through your body feels so intense, blocking everything else as you push your tongue back into his mouth at the same time your hands slip under his shirt. 

His skin feels warm. His chest feels firm and broad. You can feel his breath hitching at the touch of your fingers, his body shivering as your hands start inching closer and closer to his cock as you walk them down his torso. 

It draws a deep groan from him, yet he keeps kissing you. He continues to caress your breasts until your nipples grow hard against his palms, and that is when he finally moves his hands down. You only get to pop the button of his jeans open before he catches your wrists, stopping you from going further as he brings them to your back, pinning them together to confine you. 

You push and strain against his grasp, only to fail when his hold is firm. Surprisingly, being restrained in his hold and losing control is not making you feel powerless. Instead, it becomes a complete turn-on to have someone taking control of you that your body heats up with a stronger need for more. 

Shocked at this revelation, you pull back with a gasp. 

“Let me touch you,” you whine as you try to pull your hands out of his, drawing a deep chuckle from him. 

“Not yet, baby,” he murmurs against your lips. “I want to see all of you first.”  

He kisses you again, deep enough to make you arch your back so your hips are pressed into his. You widen your legs and he presses forward, his toned thigh pressing at your pulsing center. The sensation you feel as you begin rubbing your covered pussy over his thigh feels explosive, and it is driving you insane that you cannot touch him at the same time. 

You feel him smiling in the kiss, clearly enjoying this; your desperation and need, and the way you are chasing for pleasure even under his restraint. He moves his mouth to your neck again, nipping at the skin. You try to twist your arm to set yourself free, but Namjoon lifts his head to stop you with a look. 

“These naughty hands need to stay back, baby. Do you hear me?” he asks as he guides your hands to rest against the small of your back, your wrists resting on the hard countertop pressing from behind you. 

Your mouth falls open, but every complaint and defiance that you want to give him fades under his dark gaze. Pulling away, Namjoon grabs the hem of your top and pulls it over your head, dropping it behind him, before he once again guides your hands to return to their position on your back. He leans back just enough for him to run his gaze over your body, giving you an appreciative look while humming softly. 

The heat of his gaze only brings back your insecurities, however, as you grow nervous under his trailing eyes, and you look away, casting a quick glance down your middle. Having two kids over the years has left a few things behind; light scars, stretch marks marring your skin, and uneven curves forming in places which you can only hide under your daily clothes. You realise only now one of the many reasons why you had never considered dating and being intimate again with someone—anyone—and much less have any interest in having hookups or one-night-stand. 

Namjoon notices the change of mood in your silence. He captures your chin and gently draws your gaze back to his face. “Don’t be shy,” he murmurs as he presses a light kiss on your lips, “You’re so fucking beautiful.” 

You blink, once again his words winning as you feel your heart strengthening, gaining back your confidence. “You really think so?” you ask him after taking an audible breath. 

“God, yes,” he says with a slight groan in his voice, drawing a soft giggle out of you. “Don’t you ever question it, baby.” 

Biting down your smile, your eyes flutter down with pleasure and relief. “Good.” 

“Now, where were we?” he asks as he lets go of your chin, his arms dropping to his sides. He reaches down to unbutton your tight pants, yet you beat him to it when you take the hem of his shirt in your hands and help him pull it off, before tossing it away out of reach. 

“Naughty girl. What did I say about those hands?” he asks, and then he is kissing you again to distract you from taking back control. 

He wraps his arm around your waist. For a second, you expect him to lift you up and set you up on the counter. Just like those scenes you have often read in the spicy romance book you have edited over the years. But then he surprises you when he lifts you up to carry you away, taking you towards the dining table instead. 

With your eyes fluttering close in the kiss, the only thing you notice is the sound of the chair scrapping on the floor, before he releases you and falls back. Your mind is hazy when you open your eyes, seeing him sitting back on the dining chair while guiding you to stand between his parted legs. 

Swaying a little, you lean into his touch as he sneaks his fingers down the waistband of your tight pants and begins pulling them down. “Let me see these off, baby.” 

He doesn’t have to say it twice, as you slip your thumbs down the band of your pants and begin wiggling it down your legs. You keep your eyes on him while kicking the pants away, ignoring the shudder running through your body at the heat of his gaze and the chill breeze falling on your exposed skin. 

Sneaking a glance down your body, you follow his gaze to be able to see what he is seeing. You are relieved that you had at least thought of choosing a matching pair of new undergarments to wear tonight, instead of wearing your old mismatched ones like you usually do when you have to rush in the mornings. 

Standing in front of him like this makes you feel self-conscious. But the desire that is so palpable in his eyes helps you ignore all unappealing thoughts you ever have about yourself. 

Smiling coyly to him, you sweep your hands up your stomach, slowly reaching up over your breasts. His hands begin to clench on his side as he watches you kneading your covered breasts. You watch him licking his lips when you press your breasts until they come together, offering him with a gentle voice, “Do you like what you’re seeing? Do you want me to take this off too?” 

“No, not yet. I want to enjoy seeing you like this a bit longer,” Namjoon answers you with a deep voice that sounds almost like a growl. “Come here.” 

At his gentle command, your legs move on their own, taking you closer to him. He grabs your waist, keeping you steady as you climb onto his lap, your legs spreading wide around his waist and your arms come around his broad shoulders. 

Being in this position allows you to feel everything. To feel more. 

Every part of him feels hard against your soft body. His warmth comes pressing on every inch of your skin, allowing you to feel the heat rushing under, pooling from between your legs. You feel exposed, and the sensation is intensified as you have your legs opened for him. 

Smiling, Namjoon walks his hand around your waist. With his palm splayed on your back, he gently pushes you forward. Once again, you collide into each other, your breasts are crushed against his chest, and your lips are entangled with his in a hard, needy kiss. 

His kiss is slow, gentle, almost languid. Almost as if he is trying to savour the moment, yet it feels as if you are melting into him. You can still feel him taking control of this moment when his lips are pressing hard against yours and his tongue slipping into your mouth to swallow the sounds you are making. 

In the rising pleasure, your brain is slowly turning into mush. Your eyes flutter close, and you revel in the sensations that he is bringing to your body, to every single touch and kiss. You drown yourself in his heated kiss, as he swallows your moans with his mouth and tongue. You lean into his strong hands as one moves up your stomach, cupping your breast and rubbing against your hardened nipple, and the other moves along the curves of your body, trailing down your waist to your hips, before cupping your soft bottom. 

His palm presses harder into your soft flesh, making you grow alert of your own movements, finally noticing that your body seems to have gained a mind of its own, moving and grinding his lap in the heat of the moment. 

Your covered center starts growing hot and wet as you keep rubbing against his hips. A gasp escapes your throat as you feel his covered hard-on pressing at your pulsing center. Using his palm, Namjoon guides your steady rocking, each thrust forward falling in tune with each thrust and stroke of his tongue in your mouth. 

Within moments, the heat inside your core rising into small waves of pleasure. Drunken in lust, you lean into him more to chase it, rocking harder, faster, pressing more into his hard cock until you feel like you are hanging on the edge of release. 

“Oh, God,” you gasp against his mouth, moments too close to your first orgasm. 

Namjoon mutters a curse, and his hands tighten on the soft flesh of your bottom, putting everything into a halt. He flips you around to face away from him, doing it with such ease as if you weigh nothing. As you fall back against his chest, your knees drape over his thighs, spreading wide, your throbbing pussy facing away from his heat, away from the its final release. 

“You need relief, baby?” His voice sounds thick as he whispers to your ear. Without waiting for your answer, his fingers zero in on the exact place where you need them to be, as he begins rubbing your clit from over your delicate panties. “Hmmm? I need you to answer me. Let me know what you want.” 

“Yes,” you hiss at his touch, barely able to answer his question while urging him on as you rock your hips into his touch. Namjoon’s other hand moves up to cup your breast, kneading and squeezing until you feel your nipple growing hard under your bra. The ache building on your breasts pulses in the same rhythm as the throbbing you feel building on your clit, which he presses the pad of his fingers onto, moving them in circles. 

“God, Namjoon,” you whine, already panting when he keeps touching all the right places, inciting all the reactions from your body as heat rises from your core. Reaching down, you place your hand over his, your fingers pressing atop of his strong digits as you press against them, causing his touch to grow firm and steady, before you slip your fingers under and slide your panties aside for him. 

Namjoon’s chest rumbles as he groans deeply. “Oh, yeah, that’s it, baby. Offer that sweet little pussy for me.” 

Your cheeks flush with warmth upon hearing his words, and then the warmth spreads through your body when his fingers move to touch your flesh. His fingers are big and strong, yet delicate at the same time. They glide over your slit, which has grown embarrassingly wet, capturing every essence of your arousal as he moves them between your folds. You press your pelvis down to meet his touch, urging him on, and he complies by working his middle finger inside you. 

It feels like forever since the last time you have had sex, and it surely shows because you can already feel your orgasm building the second he starts pumping his finger inside you. The pleasure feels maddening. Enough to make you lose control of yourself as your body rocks with him. You don’t even recognise the sounds coming out of your throat as you embrace the sensations he brings out of you. 

As he feels you giving in to the pleasure, Namjoon adds a second finger, stretching you further. 

Your head falls back on his shoulder as you cry out with pleasure. Your body falls lax against him, powerless against his touch. So he moves his other arm down, wrapping it around your waist to keep you from falling as he continues thrusting his fingers in and out, all while pressing the heel of his palm against your clit until you are weeping with desire. When he abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, your pussy clutches on emptiness. 

Needing friction, or something to relief this new need of yours, you begin pressing your wet mound against his thigh, intending to start rubbing against it until you find some kind of release. But Namjoon stops you by delivering a sharp slap, right between your legs. 

“Naughty,” he growls in your ear. “I thought this pussy is mine?” 

Your hips shoot up at the lingering ache, which awakens the throbbing inside your pussy, causing your mind to go fuzzy with the mixed of pain and pleasure he brings to your body. 

Namjoon spanks your pussy again, lighter this time, before going slightly harder when coming back for the third time. Then, as if he knows that you are about to explode, he shoves two fingers right back inside you and starts fucking you with them, moving hard and rough, no longer holding back. It feels intense, sending you light speed towards the peak of your pleasure. 

With a cry slipping out of your lips, your head falls back on his shoulder as the wave of pleasure engulfs you. Digging your nails into his forearms, you ride his fingers, bucking against each thrust of his hand, your walls clenching tightly around him, and your toes curling underneath. Your orgasm comes to you strongly, going on and on while Namjoon keeps his fingers wedged inside you, and you can feel your walls contracting around them as you come all over them. 

Dear God, help me. 

You find yourself praying. Never before had you ever lost control the way you do now. Never once have you ever felt so much pleasure, to make you feel something so intense that you feel like you are losing your mind. 

Namjoon waits until you come down from your release before easing his fingers out of you. Your body grows limp against his, causing him to wrap his arms tighter around you to hold you still. His lips find your shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss while he smooths your panties back in place. 

“That’s it, sweet mama. Relax with me,” he murmurs in your ear, helping you calm down before rearranging your position until you come to face him once more, your legs straddling his toned thighs, pressing against his muscles, his warmth, and the rapid pounding of his heartbeat under your palms.  

“Everything okay?” 

You are still too delirious that you can barely think straight, yet you manage to nod and whisper, “Yeah. Everything’s good.” 

Looking into his eyes, you reach down between your bodies and press your palm over his covered bulge. “But I’m not sure that you’re feeling the same.” 

Groaning deeply, Namjoon’s eyes flutter to close. You continue stroking his covered cock, feeling it hardening under your touch and pushing against his pants that is partly undone. “Keep touching me like that, mama. And I’ll fuck you right here, right now. Or I’ll take you right on top of that counter, right where you’ll be making breakfast for your sweet girls the first morning they’re home.” 

His threat draws a moan from deep within your throat. Biting your lips, you steal a glance towards the kitchen counter. As tempting as it sounds to follow your wanton desire, to be taken hard and rough right where you spend most of your days and mornings, you want something different. You don’t want this to end so quickly, for the night to feel so instant, and you want to savour this pleasure for as long as you are allowed to.  

“Mmm…No, we can’t have that,” you whisper, turning to him to nip his jaw, making him groan. Carefully, you step back from his lap. Your legs are trembling when you try to stand on your own, yet you muster a smile as you calmly say, “Come.” 

You hold out your hand and he grabs it as he rises to his feet. He follows you down the hall and up the stairwell. Past the landing which is surrounded by framed pictures of yourself with your family and your sweet girls and their creative drawings filling the walls, you continue walking upstairs, feeling more self-conscious the closer you get to your bedroom. 

Right before your nerves begin to get in the way, Namjoon’s arms come around you, holding you to his chest as you crash through the doorway to your bedroom. His lips capture yours, swallowing the sound of your laughter until you fall backwards on the bed. 

Standing on the foot of the bed, Namjoon stands tall, a solid figure standing at the center of your world of chaos. He says nothing as he runs his gaze over your body, appreciating what he sees one last time which brings back your confidence. All for knowing that he is liking what he sees. 

Drawn by the urge to touch him, to feel, you push yourself up and start tugging his pants down. “Off—” you murmur as you struggle to peel the damn thing off of him, earning his chuckle. Namjoon helps you halfway, stopping briefly to pull something out of his back pocket before he tosses his whole pants away. He wastes no more time to continue where he left off, as he pushes you back to the bed and lowers himself to you. 

Your arms go around his shoulders to welcome him. Your eyes meet each other again, allowing you to see something that you failed to notice before. Behind his heated gaze, the warm dimple smile, and the alluring words filled with his raw desire, lies another emotion haunting like a shadow. 

An emotion that you know too damn well as it mirrors your own. 

Desperation. 

Swallowing hard, you feel the same emotion coming out of you in strides; the desperation to belong and to be happy; to be able to move through life without being haunted by the unwarranted fear of getting hurt. The desperation to feel. 

Allowing that emotion to take over, you pull him down to you and kiss him deeply. You run your hands down his back, pressing at his spine until he lowers his hips onto yours. You can feel his hard cock pressing on you, its wet tip sticking out from the top of his briefs, rubbing against your skin. You regret not having the chance to have a look at it, to appreciate it through more than your dainty touch. Yet you cannot deny the desperate need to feel him inside you, filling you up until there is nothing left of you when he is done. 

Arching your back, you rock against him, pressing your tender center against his bulge. His mouth unlatches from yours, and then he pulls the lacy cups of your bra with a rough tug, tucking them under your breasts to push them up. He keeps his palms on them, touching them directly this time, skin to skin, bringing all the shudders back and rising twofolds as you cry out his name. 

His mouth finds your neck, and the touch of his lips is almost enough to make you come and unravel right there and then, yet you manage to hold back with a bite of your lip. Without taking his mouth off of you, Namjoon runs his hand down, finding your center and pressing down. The pleasure sparks through your body like fireworks as he rubs in circles against your covered center, pressing against your slit, rubbing at your covered clit, and then finding your wetness to draw out more essence out of you. 

Every nerve in your body comes awake and lights up at the same time, allowing you to feel everything that he is giving you. Engulfed in the pleasure, you barely feel him as Namjoon starts moving down, spreading his fingers down your thighs to part your legs for him, before plunging his head between your quivering thighs. 

You feel a soft tug at your panties, and then cold breeze touches your skin as Namjoon slides the center of your panties aside, exposing your tender pussy. “I wanted to taste you so badly,” he murmurs against your skin as he presses his lips on the apex of your thigh, then he moves to the other side, before reaching to the center, drawing a sharp cry out of you when he presses a kiss right at your folds. 

His tongue drags through your flesh before he sucks gently on your swollen bud. A shiver shoots right up through your body as pleasure sparks from beneath, and he starts fucking you with his tongue. In and out he presses and licks with his warm, soft tongue, tasting your essence with a deep hum, while his mouth keeps stealing a kiss and sucking, intensifying the pleasure. 

With your hands sinking into the sheets beneath you, your hips begin to move, rocking against his mouth and riding the sensation as it grows more and more intense. You lift your head to watch him work. The look he gives you when he returns your gaze causes your body to twitch, your muscles tightening as pleasure coils through your core. 

With a grin, Namjoon buries his face deeper, his teeth grazing at your clit before lapping at the swollen bud with his tongue to take away the pinch of pain. The sensation sends your body falling back. Still rocking your hips to ride the pleasure, you twist the sheets in one hand, and then take a handful of his short hair with the other. 

It doesn’t take long before the familiar wave of pleasure starts rolling through your body, rising intensely from the depth of your core. Your breath quickens as you are climaxing into his mouth. It comes so strongly that you can feel it rushing all the way down to your toes. A series of breathless moans come out of your lips at the same pace as the pulses of pleasure coming alight from inside as your orgasm rolls through your body. 

Your head is ringing with the waves of your orgasm that you barely aware of how you are pulling at his hair, twisting the short strands in your grasp as you writhe beneath him. Yet he doesn’t stop. Not even when he feels you slowly coming down from your high. 

Namjoon continues to lap at your taste, licking away your release as he murmurs gently against your mound, “Fuck, you taste so damn good, baby.” 

His voice fades in and out of you, until he slips a finger inside you, pressing against your inner walls. He pushes right in, curling the tip as he pulls out, finding the sweet spot that sends another jolt of pleasure through your body. Realising this, he adds another finger and starts working them at the same rhythm as the movement of his tongue. Your legs begin shaking, your hips are rising against his other palm that is resting on your lower belly to keep you down, but nothing holds you from erupting as the force of your second orgasm quickly rolls through you, sending you over the edge with a cry. 

You feel a shift on the bed as Namjoon moves on top of you and presses his lips on yours. The remnants of your orgasm is still pulsing through you, and your ears are still ringing, that you can only take what he is giving you, letting him bring you back to the present with his kiss. 

Once you manage to catch your breath, you bring your hands up to him and start pushing his briefs down his hips. He rises slightly from you, taking away his weight and his warmth as he kicks his briefs down his ankle and away. His hand reaches down, wrapping his fingers around his hard girth. 

This time, you take the chance to appreciate his beauty. Just like his hard body, his cock seems beautiful, big and thick and heavy even in his strong palm. 

With his eyes on your face, Namjoon begins lowering himself on you. Your hips rise to welcome him when you feel his cock falling heavy on your stomach. Your hand reaches down between you, as if you are under a spell. Your fingers wrap around him, drawing a soft gasp from his lips. 

Licking your lips, you watch yourself giving him a few light strokes. He seems to enjoy this, as his hips slowly move to return each stroke, each brush of your palm with a thrust of his cock. Groaning deeply, Namjoon bends down to cover you with his hard body. His lips find your neck, kissing the column of your throat as his fingers return to your mounds, pressing into your slit and using the slickness of your arousal and release to move around your entrance. 

“Namjoon, please—” Your breath catches when you feel the tip of his finger pressing at your entrance, pushing against your sensitive walls. He enters you slowly with his fingers. It feels delightful, yet you are ready to feel more. “Mhhh…not enough,” you whine breathlessly, “I want you…inside…now.” 

He chuckles against your throat, and the vibrations you feel coming from his body aren’t exactly helping to lessen the pool of desire between your legs, nor the tight clench of your walls around his fingers. He gives your pussy a few more thrusts of his fingers before he pulls them out, and reaches out to the other side of the bed. 

The soft crinkle sound of a foil gets your heartbeat speeding up in your chest. It’s happening, the voice in your head whispers. Excitement rolls through you, and a wicked through flashes through your head when you meet his gaze again. 

You bite your lip and smile, and then you lift your hands, pushing against his shoulders to bring him down onto the mattress. You follow him as he falls back, and then you climb on top of him, enjoying the thrill rushing through you when you see the shock clearly flashing through his gaze. 

He grips your hips as you straddle him, keeping you steady until you are sitting in the right position. So right that you can feel his hard cock pressing at your slick center from beneath. 

“Well, damn,” he chuckles as he watches you press down your hips on him. “That’s it. Take control, mama. Show me what you want from me.” 

You make a humming sound as you begin rocking over him, pressing down against his length. Your panties have grown completely soiled, placed improperly over your mound that you can feel him partly rubbing against your skin. “You know what I want,” you whisper, moaning when you feel his girth rubbing at your clit. 

Hoping to feel more, you continue rocking, rubbing your center along the length of his cock. But it isn’t enough. The panties keep getting in the way just when you are close to getting what you want. You reach down to begin peeling the damn thing off of you when Namjoon takes over. 

“Let me help you with that,” he says, before he suddenly lifts himself up to a sitting position. His hands are quick to catch your waist to stop you from falling back, keeping you on his lap as he moves his hand to your back.

His eyes look down on your heaving chest, and then his hands are pulling at your undergarments. Starting from your bra, as he expertly peels it off of you within a blink of an eye, then continuing to reach down. The ripping sound of your panties as they fall apart fills the room before you can feel yourself being freed from its presence. The strong pull that he gives on the flimsy fabric barely feels like anything on your skin, your mind too muddled to process it until it is too late. 

The moment it dawns on you what is happening, there is nothing else that you can do but to watch with wide eyes, mouth gaping in shock, as Namjoon lifts your ruined panties to his lips and breathes in.

“You won’t be needing them for a while,” he says with a hum at the sound of your sharp inhale of breath.   

“You’re so bad.” An incredulous laugh comes out of you as he tosses the tattered panties away. 

His hands return to your waist then and he pulls you closer, settling you down nicely on his lap as he asks, “Maybe I am. Are you going to punish me for being a bad boy?” 

“Maybe I will,” you tease him as you run your fingers up his chest, pushing him back down. “Naughty boy.” 

The glimmer of the foil he is holding between his fingers catches your attention. You pick it up, ripping the foil and letting the rubber fall on your palm. “Is this okay?” 

He nods, and then his eyes darken as you gently slide the condom down the length of his cock. Your can feel him twitching under your touch, his head falling back briefly with a groan coming out of his throat when the tips of your fingers meet his skin. Once he is perfectly covered, you move back into position. 

Namjoon gently guides you back over him, straddling him once again without anything else getting in the way this time. 

You lean forward and place a kiss on his lips, one that feels a bit too sweet and shy. For a moment, your confidence wanes. Being on top of him, unrestrained, and being in complete control makes you feel subconscious with yourself. It makes you feel insecure, suddenly feeling worried that you might not be enough. 

As you sit up, your pussy rocks against his cock. You can feel his girth pressing against the dampness which has been growing between your legs, the heat of his body radiates from him and it transfers through your body with each pulse of his blood that you feel against you. 

His fingers find their place between your legs, rubbing your clit in slow circles, drawing moans after moans, shudders rolling through your body that you begin moving in response to his touch. Your hips buck up against his hand, desperate for friction. You continue rolling your body as he presses just a bit harder, drawing yet another moan from your lips that comes together with the intense shiver surging from your core. 

Enjoying the way you are reacting to him, he rises up to steal a kiss, chuckling softly against your mouth when he feels the twitch of your hips when his cock is pressing harder against your folds. He pulls back, showing you his wicked grin that has your heart beating rapidly. 

You lift your hips, and he reaches down to position his cock against your opening. Your body instantly trembles when you feel him nudging against your pussy, spreading your entrance to allow himself in. Then you begin to slide down on him, taking it slow as you take his cock inside you, inch by delicious inch. Your legs quiver around him as you feel him spreading your tight walls, yet you welcome him with a slow moan, allowing yourself to take him deeper as you continue going down, until he is almost fully inside you and you are nearly resting on his hips. 

A pulse rocks through you once, and you carefully lift yourself up, sliding up his length and coming back down, getting deeper in your descent. 

“You are so perfect,” he whispers to you as you continue riding his cock, keeping a slow pace as you adjust yourself to his size. 

Namjoon falls back, letting you take control. Something that no other person has ever done before. He keeps his eyes on you as you continue moving on top of him, sliding up and down the length of his cock, while embracing the waves of pleasure that you get to feel from your constant rocking. His eyes are filled with admiration as he watches you move, your head falling back at the height of your pleasure, your chest arching, showing him the sight of your shaking breasts. 

“You are so fucking hot,” he moans, taking your breasts in his hands. You relish every single sensation you are feeling with a moan. It feels incredible. Not just this—the sex, the feeling of him being buried inside your heat, filling you up and giving you pleasure—but also for feeling like you are free. 

Sitting naked on top of such a gorgeous man, rocking up and down his cock, enjoying the pleasure without your nerves getting in the way, your insecurities left forgotten. It feels so damn empowering to be owning up to your sexuality, to your wanton desire, after having it denied for so long. All because of your haunting past making you feel like you are less than the person you are now. 

These thoughts push you to ride him harder, faster, your fingers sinking into the sheets on either side of him to anchor you against him, while his fingers grow tighter on your hips to help you ride him to chase your pleasure. 

“That’s it, baby,” he urges you on with a breathy voice, deep groans slipping out of him when you begin fucking him wildly. “Go on, let it go, mama.” 

Holding you up against him, Namjoon begins rocking his hips, thrusting up to meet you in your descend. The maddening pleasure rocks through you, and another wave of climax sets off, coiling from your core, up to your lower belly. And right as you are ready to plunge into your climax, Namjoon bends forward, capturing one of your nipples with his mouth and begins sucking, while he reaches up to pinch the other with his fingers. 

With a sharp cry, you unravel completely without fail. Your orgasm comes to you not in waves but an explosion, the pain only intensifies the pleasure as it hits, and your body trembles as you embrace it. 

Everything fades in and out as your mind and body recovers from the intense high. Your legs are quivering too much that you fall onto his chest, and Namjoon carefully flips you to the side until you are on your back. Ears once again ringing, the sounds of him moving on the sheets seem so distant. But you can feel the dip when he lowers himself on you, his lips finding yours, bringing you back, and then pressing against your neck to quiet down the rapid pulsing of blood surging under your skin. 

Once your mind regains clarity, you notice his hand moving. You open your eyes when you cannot feel his touch, and realise that he is giving himself some lazy strokes. “You haven’t gotten yours,” you whisper with a raspy voice, and his grin returns. 

“You’ve already came too many times, so—” 

Shaking your head, you reach up and pull him back to you. “I can’t be the only one feeling good tonight,” you insist as you capture his lips, enticing him with a light bite. As he returns the kiss, your legs spread open for him, welcoming him back to you. “I want to make you feel good too.” 

Groaning, Namjoon deepens the kiss. Still stroking himself, he uses the other hand to gently touch your tender pussy, making sure that you won’t hurt if he continues. “Are you sure?” he murmurs against your lips, before feeling you nod. 

Unable to wait long, he quickly gets between your legs again. He covers you with his heat, his toned chest pressing down against your body, delightfully engulfing you with his warmth. Then his hips rock forward, pressing the wet tip of his stiff cock against your pulsing heat. Your back arches the moment you feel him pushing, just enough until you feel the tip penetrating your entrance.

“Namjoon—” you gasp out his name, and his hands come down to your hips, holding you still as he enters you, thrusting deep and slow. 

Your legs are spread wider, giving him room to get as deep as he possibly can until your hips are flushed against each other. 

Fuck yes, you can hear yourself screaming in your head, while your mouth gapes open with a breathless moan at how full you are feeling with him snugged inside your pussy. 

“God, fuck—you feel amazing,” he breathes out as he too becomes still. 

Your body clenches around his cock at hearing his words, loving how his praise is stroking at your ego. It seems that your body has gotten used to him so well that he feels like a perfect fit inside you. 

“You don’t feel too bad yourself,” you playfully tease him, making him groan deeply that you can feel his entire body vibrating all the way to your core. 

“Not bad, huh?” he groans, almost sounding feral when he continues his gentle rocking. “Guess I’ll have to stop holding back, then.” 

With a groan, he pulls back almost all the way out and thrusts back into you, rocking both of you against the mattress as he fucks you into it. You grab tightly on the messy sheets beneath you, already tangled by the previous rocking and fucking and growing even messier now that he is picking up pace immediately. It feels intense, making you feel delirious as he moves in and out of you rapidly. And it feels so damn good that you just don’t want it to stop. 

“Oh, baby...so perfect,” he gasps, and you open your eyes to see his eyes glazing over with pleasure as he gets lost in your body. 

It turns you on so badly to see a man unraveling this way—to be so lost in his pleasure and growing feral as he gives in completely to the sensation. At the same time, it makes you feel powerful, knowing that you are the one making him this way. For someone like him to let his guard down and show you the real part of him. To let you see how raw and passionate he becomes when he is bringing pleasure to both of your bodies. 

It makes you feel so hot, and it feels so good, that it practically sends you straight into your final climax. To unravel the same way he does at the pleasure of his lovemaking. 

“Keep tightening around me like that, and I won’t last long,” he warns you, while you can only hold back a grin. As if you will take his words like you would to a threat. 

You run your hands up his chest, feeling up his toned muscles as they strain with each thrust he is giving you, before you reach up to the back of his neck and grab a handful of his short hair. A smile grows on your face when he lets out another groan, and his hips nearly buckle and twitch as his rocking begins to grow haste. 

He’s close. 

“Oh, fuck. I’m coming,” he groans, although it almost sounds like he is shouting.

“Yes, please. Come with me. I’m also there,” you whimper breathlessly when your orgasm starts to build. 

His grip on your hips tightens as he begins pumping into you fast and hard, hitting all the right spots. You almost believe that he is also growing firmer, harder, bigger, that the only thing you can feel is him, rubbing against your throbbing walls and pushing you over the edge. 

A scream slips out of you when the orgasm hits like a massive wave. Your back is almost lifted completely off the bed as your entire body vibrates with pleasure. You can hear him shouting under the sound of your rapid heartbeat, before you feel him pulsing, spilling his heat into you as he joins you in his own orgasm. 

Your legs are wrapped around his hips while your arms are hooked around his neck as you hold onto him, refusing to let go as you relish the waves of your orgasm until they begin to settle. You have barely gotten back control of your breathing when he leans down, capturing your lips into a kiss. 

The kiss is slow, almost languid, and just as gentle as the movement of his hands as he runs them down your sweaty body. You can still the spasms of your climax lingering as he slowly pulls out of you, allowing you to feel his presence even as he pulls away, dropping right beside you with a soft grunt. 

Your eyes are already fluttering to close while he takes his time taking care of his soiled condom and tossing it away to the trash. Yet you are still coherent when he returns, engulfing you in his strong arms, filling your breath with his scent. 

“That was fucking amazing,” he mumbles against your skin as you feel his lips pressing on your bare shoulder. 

“Hmm…yes, it was…” 

A sigh leaves your lips. The content feeling weaving through your body steals the words that you want so badly to say. 

Incredible. Astounding. 

“Magical,” you find yourself whispering, drawing a soft chuckle from him. 

You look at him through your hazy eyes, finding him looking back at you with a different shadow lingering in his gaze which makes you want to say the words that you never expected you would say to him. 

Stay the night. 

The words die on your tongue as sleep is slowly dragging you down. You try to fight it, even if you aren’t quite sure about saying those words out loud. You have no idea what will come out of this. All you can think about is that you don’t want this to end too soon. 

“The girls are out all weekend, aren’t they?” His voice breaks the silence, forcing you to open your eyes. 

“Yes, they’re staying at their grandparents. I won’t have to pick them up until Monday afternoon,” you breathlessly answer, recalling faintly how your mother had offered to take Suzy to school and Hana to kindergarten so you wouldn’t have to drive all the way to her house on a Sunday, expecting you to sleep through your hangover and spend the day resting. “Why are you asking?” 

“I just wasn’t sure how they would react coming home to find a grown-ass man snuggling with their mom.” He softly chuckles, and in a brief moment of silence, you see a different look appearing in his eyes. A part of him that seems more vulnerable coming out of him in waves, right before he asks you, “Unless you want me out of here?” 

Once again, you can see yourself in his gaze. To once again share the same emotions, the same vulnerability which feels too damn familiar. Deep down, you start wishing that you didn’t see it. Because seeing this side of him only makes you care a lot more than you should for someone who is only supposed to be your one-night-stand. Because seeing it only makes you want more. 

You close your eyes and try not to think too deeply about it. Not when your mind is still muddled from the wild sex you just had with him. And when his touch is still lingering on your skin. 

You can worry about this tomorrow, you hear the same small voice in your head whispering, and you decide that you are going to listen this time. 

Pushing yourself up, you pull the blanket from the foot of the bed and drag it up to cover both of your nakedness before sliding back to him. “Nope, you’re staying,” you firmly say as you tuck him in. “I promised to make you dinner, but I really don’t have any energy left to leave the bed right now, so you can make it up by helping me make breakfast tomorrow.” 

Namjoon laughs. He visibly relaxes beside you when he mutters, “I love it when you boss me around.” 

You stop to look at him, biting your lips before asking, “Would you mind if I keep doing that?” 

His smile softens, and the alluring dimple returns for a brief second as he leans in to kiss your temple. “Boss me around anytime, mama. I’ll be good. I promise.” 

Author’s Note 2.0 | Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this story, please leave a like and reblog to share with your friends and let me know what you think. See you in the next one! PS. You can get to know Jin the bartender and read his story in Blurred Lines. 

— ©Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed.

[kurishiri]

14 . . . alfons main story

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— cw: depiction of fire.

Kate: It seems like... I have fallen for you.

When I murmured this, though...

Alfons: ...Well that is nothing short of a nuisance.

When I heard an answer that shouldn’t have come, I let out a gasp.

Kate: Alfo... w-wait, you were awake...!?

Just a moment ago, his steady breathing indicated he had been asleep, but now his eyes were open, and in those ashy gray eyes,

a hint of exasperation seeped its way in.

Alfons: So you say you ‘have fallen’ for me... it seems this has taken a rather troublesome turn.

While sitting up in a languid motion, Alfons combed his fingers through his hair.

Alfons: Whatever you’re feeling, it’s nothing but a delusion, I’d say. A hallucination.

A: You simply happened to be saved while you were in a pickle by a man who had given you pleasure, mixing that up for feelings of romance, no?

Kate: Did you just say I was ‘mixing that up’...?

(How dare he say that when he knows nothing about the feelings I’ve been going through before I came to his room...)

I felt blood rise to my head then.

Kate: ...For the record, I don’t really mind if you don’t give me an answer...

K: But I sure would appreciate it if you didn’t act as though you know what I’m feeling...!

Alfons: ...And how would you know if something like feelings, which bear no tangible form, is really there?

His fingers made their way to my chin...

Kate: T-that...

Alfons: ...Yes, go on?

...and when he pulled on it, I felt his breath tickle my lips,

causing my body to throb involuntarily in anticipation.

It seemed like Alfons had expected this reaction, as a smile played on his lips.

Alfons: Until you realize you are mistaken, I’ll be keeping all things pleasure behind closed doors, alright?

A: Were I to touch you in such a way... I’m sure I would only end up feeding into such delusions, anyhow.

Kate: ...gh.

Alfons: Alright, enough of that. Would you care to let an injured person like myself rest some more now?

His hand let go of me just like that, and he distanced himself, no longer bothering to touch me further.

He refused to listen to a word I had to say, even though he was the one who had reached out to me so persistently in the first place.

(I knew it would come to this, and yet...)

The pain in my heart was cruel.

It hurt so much, I could hardly bear it.

Kate: ...I... I understand. Have a good night...

I left the room as if running away, the door closing with a bang that rang loud and clear.

Alfons: ...Hehe.

A: I actually do like you a lot myself as well.

A: But that’s why... it would be best if this all remained a delusion.

——His whispers, having no way of reaching anyone else, simply dissipated in the air.

—— Time skip ——

Based on the information Alfons and I gleaned from having infiltrated the hotel that was exclusively for members of the ‘purification’ club,

the name Lord Goa, a member of the Privy Council, came up as someone heavily involved in the incidents that had occurred in the East End.

With that, William and Victor were able to perform a thorough investigation on him and his faction.

Victor: ——In regards to the ‘confidential’ letter in question, inside was a check to a company with phenomenal business conditions.

Before the members of Crown gathered in the dining room, Victor shared the details surrounding the current circumstances.

Victor: As for the contents of the check itself, there weren’t any problems.

V: That said, though, it’s fully possible this is compensation for those who will carry out their plan to set fire to the Docklands.

William: This company that handles the flow of money has long been marked as a front company, very likely connected to a criminal organization.

Alfons: In other words, it was a blatant distraction, yes?

(But, even if we know that...)

Kate: I take it this check alone wouldn’t be enough evidence to be able to dispatch the police, right...?

Harrison: Yeah, seems right.

H: It isn’t enough to prove the ‘plan to commit arson’ itself is in the works, nor does it prove that Councilman Goa is a part of it.

H: And even if the recipient company of the check were involved in the plan, it seems nigh impossible they’d believe us with just this.

Victor: That is all true. But, you see, Kate, it’s exactly for times like these that we are here.

V: In order to protect the prosperity of England, we ‘use evil to condemn evil’——such is our motto here in Crown.

Hearing Victor’s words, my head shot up.

Victor: I bring you an order from Her Majesty the Queen.

V: ‘Stop the arson incident in the Docklands, and condemn the faction of the ‘purification’ club which Councilman Goa is a part of.’

His jewel-like eyes, filled with a darkness more deep than the dark itself, glimmered with a bewitching light... and it sent shivers up my spine.

Victor: ——By the way, Alfons.

All of a sudden, Victor turned to look at Alfons.

Victor: How is that wound from yesterday’s mission faring?

Alfons: I simply found myself a tad too caught up in a practical prank and made a blunder, if you will.

Kate: Wh—no, that wound is...

[1] I should be the one taking responsibility.

[2] He covered for me. (+4 / +4)

[3] ... (stay silent)

Kate: He ended up covering for me, so...

Alfons: I just so happened to be in a position to block the bullet.

(As if. There’s no way Alfons just ‘happened’ to be there when he was in the inner part of the room right before he was shot.)

(And he is still covering for me, so as to not make my situation worse.)

(And yet, he distances himself like that…)

I wish he wouldn’t be so kind, and yet I couldn’t help but feel happy too.

(…He is a liar, and a cruel person to boot, through and through.)

As ordered by Victor, the ones who were going to carry out this mission were:

Alfons, Lord Elbert, Roger, and for some odd reason, Jude and Ellis.

Victor: When it comes to the Ports of London, Jude is the one who’s most familiar with that area, I take it?

Jude: …Hah, ya can bet yer bottle I’m the most familiar outta this bunch.

Victor: And Kate? Do you think you’ll be able to go with?

V: I imagine going on missions day after day would tire you out, so don’t push yourself.

Kate: …No, it’s fine. This is my responsibility as fairytale keeper, so I’ll go with.

(…I truly am a fool, aren’t I.)

Here I was, going on about how it’s my ‘responsibility’ and whatnot, but my true feelings laid elsewhere.

(Even though Alfons does nothing but push me away… I don’t want to take my eyes off of him.)

After all, I had thought to myself that if I wasn’t looking at him, he would end up just up and disappearing somewhere.

(…And this feeling, just as Alfons said,)

(was a delusion——that’s how it needed to be, and yet…)

——Now that I had realized my feelings for him, I had no way of knowing how to bury this love to the grave.

In the Docklands, illegal immigrants were going to be punished by an ‘eternal fire.’

On the night the plan was going to take place…

Dirtied man: Who’s there!?

The silhouettes who were squirming about in the darkness of the port city made a stir upon the sudden arrival of visitors.

Jude: How goes it, ya lot? We’ll be here a while.

Ellis: I’d say there are around——seven? If I had to guess.

Dirtied man: Tch, they said if there are any witnesses the reward’s as good as gone. Get ‘em!

The men who had seemingly been spreading oil around wielded weapons and ganged up, lunging for the two.

Jude: Hah, swingin’ around those steel pipes… how ya all pulled the short end of the stick, not even gettin’ yer hands a gun.

Dirtied man: Wah!? W-what the—!?

Just when I thought Ellis jumped high enough to be above their heads,

the men’s wrists seemed to become bound by a rope unseen to the naked eye, restraining them.

Dirtied man: W-what the hell did you do!?

Ellis: Shh, quiet down a little… we don’t want to disturb the neighbors.

Jude: If ya lot were gonna be playin’ with fire for some bees and honey, ya may as well have all hit the hay instead, ain’t that right?

With that, Jude poked the restrained men’s foreheads with his index finger.

And the next moment, the men, who had just been shouting, collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

Kate: …I take it those were their abilities?

Elbert: That’s right… Ellis has the ability to restrain the movements of those whose head he touches. And Jude can put others to sleep by touching their forehead.

Alfons: What a golden pair for interrogation and assassination, dare I say.

Jude had said, ‘If I wanted to get rid of illegal immigrants, I’d aim here,’ while marking down some places,

namely a corner of a residential area, an alleyway that lined the pubs, and the port city, and so Crown went to detain the to-be arsonists without a hitch.

(And this is the last place Jude had marked.)

(It would be nice if we could stop the incidents altogether though…)

Elbert: How is the perimeter looking, Roger?

Roger: …Two blocks away, there’s one at four o’clock.

Elbert: Their companion, perhaps?

Roger: Nah, I doubt it. It sounds pretty darn suspicious… and it’s heading straight this way.

Alfons: Coming to see what’s going on after hearing something suspicious is very much a fool’s errand, is it not.

A: Do leave this careless, poor witness in my care.

Saying that, Alfons left the storage room.

(——!)

—— Scene change; outside ——

While hiding myself in the shadows, I peeked outside…

Alfons: Good evening to you. What a lovely night it is, no?

…where I found Alfons, who had just discreetly touched the back of what seemed to be the witness’ neck.

Alfons: “You saw nothing that went down here. You are on your way home, dearly needing some sleep.”

I could hear how his whispers resembled that of a lullaby as they rode the zephyr of the night.

(He could have shown them something to scare them, or threaten them away, and yet...)

Whenever he used his ability, he always spoke words that calmed the heart.

(And if I asked him why that is... I’m sure he would say something along the lines of ‘it would be a load of trouble if they made too much noise.’)

—— Scene change; storage room ——

Alfons: Goodness gracious... I would have preferred them to choose a less conspicuous place at the very least.

By the time Alfons returned, Jude and the others had tied the perpetrators up with a rope.

Kate: ...I guess with this, we managed to stop the incident.

Spreading the map with the marks open, I made sure we didn’t miss any spots before letting out a sigh in relief.

Roger: Well, that’s assuming Jude hasn’t missed a place.

Jude: The hell ya gettin’ at?

Roger: And I’m going to make sure the number of people here match up with the heartbeats I’m hearing——

Just when Roger interrupted over Jude...

Kate: !?

Along with an explosion, a flame started from within the storage room.

The fire crawled outward on the floor, the heat burning my skin.

(W-why all of a sudden...!? I thought we had all of the perpetrators——)

Alfons: It would appear the oil scattered all over the ground has vaporized and some sparks have ignited this.

Kate: D-did you just say ‘some sparks’!?

Roger: As curious as that is, first things first, we gotta put out the fire. Elbie, let’s bring over the fire extinguisher from the carriage.

Elbert: On it.

Jude: Tch, there ain’t nothing worth more trouble than these scumbags burnin’ to smithereens before makin’ them spit out the tea.

Ellis: Jude and I will take the perpetrators out of here.

Making quick judgments about their current situation, the members of Crown started to move.

(I should help where I can as well...)

The next moment, I tried to run as though being struck by something, when...

(——Huh?)

What I saw before my eyes was an unbelievable sight, causing my feet to stay rooted in its spot.

Alfons: Kate, if you inhale any more smoke, you may end up burning your lungs. So if you could move a bit more——

Kate: Wait just a minute! Over there...!

Beyond the burning flames, when I squinted my eyes...

There, I saw a young boy crouched on the floor, his face filled with fear.

Alfons: ...Ahh, so that’s how it is.

A: It would seem while all his friends were captured, he was hiding with a bated breath, I reckon.

Kate: W-when you say ‘friends’...

K: Are you insinuating he was directly involved in executing the arson...!?

Alfons: Have a look at the boy’s feet.

When I did, I saw that scattered about his feet, illuminated by the flames, were what appeared to be matchboxes.

Alfons: That boy is said ‘sparks.’

A: I reckon he was hiding in the shadows, biding the right time.

(But why would such a child... no, I don’t have time to think about such things.)

(Right now, somehow saving him takes priority...!)

Kate: Stay right there! And be sure to stay low and try not to inhale the fumes...!

Alfons: ......... [surprised]

(At this rate the fire will block the way out... but if he jumps in just like that, he’ll suffer from severe burns.)

(I’ll need to somehow open a path for him to escape through...)

When I looked around my surroundings, my eyes stopped on some sandbags that were piled atop one another adjacent to the storage room.

(That will do...!)

Kate: ...gh!

I jumped straight in, somehow managing to hold the heavy sandbags and throwing them amid the flames.

Then I ran back, lifting up another sandbag.

(Urgh, it’s so heavy...)

Alfons: What in the world are you doing?

Alfons crouched down beside me, meeting my eyes.

Kate: That child might not make it by the time we can put out the fire with an extinguisher.

K: So I thought to stack these sandbags to create an escape route...

Alfons: The one who started this fire was none other than that child, you know.

Kate: Yes, but... this and that are two different things!

Alfons: ......... [surprised]

A: ...haa.

A: Just what am I to do with such a straightforward one like yourself?

(Ah...)

He let out an exasperated laugh before he took the sandbag from me before throwing it into the flames.

(Alfons...)

Alfons: Let’s get it together now. The boy won’t be living through this if you stand so idle.

And so, we carried the sandbags, trying our best to go back and forth,

when Roger and Lord Elbert came running while carrying the fire extinguisher from the carriage, starting to spray the vicinity around the sandbags.

——And at last, albeit small, we managed to make a path he could escape through.

Kate: It’s fine now! So come this way!

Young boy: ...

The boy, whose face was filled with fear still, stayed crouching down, trembling.

Alfons: He’s not coming, is he. Perhaps fear has him paralyzed?

Kate: If that’s the case, we have to go and get him...!

But the moment I tried to run in, he grabbed my arms from behind.

Kate: Wh—Alfons...!?

Alfons: Goodness...

Pushing me behind him, Alfons jumped into the fire through the small escape route,

and as though he were taking a stroll, he walked over to the young boy with light steps——and touched the back of his neck.

Alfons: Come now... “you feel neither the fear nor the heat.”

Young boy: ...gh...! ...?

The fear vanished from the boy’s face, replaced by a puzzled expression.

While holding the boy in his arms, Alfons returned with the same light steps he had went in with.

Alfons: Here you are. A delivery for a most good-natured little robin.

Kate: ...Everything’s alright now.

Young boy: huhu... waaah!

Perhaps he had felt so much fear, but it seemed the illusion cast upon his heart that he ‘wasn’t scared’ had quickly worn off,

and the young boy burst into tears in my arms.

—— Scene change; lounge ——

Apparently, that young boy had been living in poverty, and having been deceived by some bad adults, he was made to take part in this evil plot.

According to Roger’s examination, the young boy suffered from minor injuries. It was then decided that he would be transferred to a special ward in the Royal Hospital to recover.

(Thank goodness...)

Fatigue hit me right after relief, and my body, feeling heavy, sunk into the sofa like a boat.

Kate: What a long night it’s been...

Alfons, too, sat down in a place a little ways away from me.

Alfons: Good lord, I don’t even remember the last time I was subjected to such physical labor.

A: And now thanks to that, I’ve been rendered sore left and right.

Kate: Hm...? Is it really alright for you not to go, Alfons?

K: Just now, everyone else said they were going to interrogate the perpetrators...

Alfons: Such things are better left in the hands of those who know how to best — namely Jude and the others.

With a dismissive wave, Alfons laughed.

And all of a sudden, I remembered the way his back was lit up by the flames as he ran for the young boy.

Kate: And thank you... for saving that child.

K: It made me really happy.

K: But... I also had a feeling you would help anyhow as well.

Hearing my words after the ‘but,’ Alfons laughed, as though fed up.

Alfons: In the face of how oppressive your sense of justice was, I ended up doing what I did... but now regret is starting to plague me.

A: How I wish I could catch the look of despair on your face upon the realization the boy couldn’t be saved after all.

(I long knew those were not his true feelings.)

Kate: ...So you say, but then you go and show illusions because you can’t stand seeing such a face.

Alfons: I see nothing can convince you otherwise.

Kate: Yes, because to me, that is the ‘truth.’

I quite enjoyed the exchanges he and I shared that resembled something like banter, or perhaps just messing around in good fun.

——Having only realized this now, I felt a pang in my heart once again.

(I knew it, I really do like Alfons.)

(...There’s no way I can simply play it off as a delusion.)

Alfons: .........

He spared me a glance before he stood from his seat.

(He’s running away again.)

With such a hunch, my body started to move.

Alfons: Now then... I think I’ll go have a drink or two.

Kate: If that’s so, I will too.

I stood up and took a step, closing a bit of the distance between us.

Kate: Please take me with you.

to be continued…

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masterlist🪞 ╱ ko-fi ☕️

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[ink-and-dagger]

silco, astrid, jinx, max, jasper, sevika - the whole crew has to sit down and eat a meal together. how’s it playing out? what are they eating? how are the seated? is everyone making it out alive?

I love this question and I love you for asking it 💜

Okay here’s the crack - Yes everyone makes it out alive (just), but everyone also has a fierce migraine by the end of it.

Jasper would cook, naturally. In fact he insists on it. No way in hell is putting food that’s been prepared by this lot anywhere near his mouth. Now, something to understand about Jasper is that he’s a great cook, but not necessarily an adventurous one. He has a love for hearty, rustic food - it’s where his culinary strengths lay, and he doesn’t tend to venture far from it. He'd probably serve homemade herby breads and a rich slowcooked casserole. For dessert, some kind of baked pudding - sticky toffee perhaps.

In terms of seating arrangements. This is how things would look at the start of the meal:

As expected Astrid and Jinx are a total nightmare together, and Silco eventually splits them up after a game of 'potato lacrosse' ends with his necktie covered in sauce. And so, this is how the seating arrangement would look around halfway through the meal:

Once Jasper reaches his limit with Astrid's unsubtle thigh fondling, he insists that they swap seats because he needs to talk shop with Silco. (This is, of course, total bullshit, and Jasper proceeds to sit next to Silco in stony silence). Meanwhile, Max has rather adroitly spotted the telltale signs of Jinx's restlessness, and suggests that he and Sevika swap seats as he needs Jinx's help on a project. And so, by the end of the meal the seating arrangement is thusly:

Anyway - I hope that gives you a little bit of an insight as to how that particular family meal would go down. Glassware is definitely broken. Squabbles absolutely occur. And it's a long, long time before any of them would even consider doing it again.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Recount Your Kids, Batman

[A loose continuation to this post]

Talia doesn't visit the Wayne manor. At least not regularly nor officially. All the batkids and Batman know she comes sometimes, just to check up on Damian and maybe bother Bruce from time to time, but this is the first time she has ever shown up to a dinner.

And, as they all take their seats, she gives Damian a long curios glance. Then, she looks to Bruce.

"Is that everyone?" She asks, easy and lighthearted. One might think she is simply not acquainted with the number of Wayne children or that she is teasing Bruce on the sheer amount of them. But Damian is looking down to his plate, and Tim knows for sure Talia keeps up with Wayne's head count, and Dick is fairly certain Talia would never tease Bruce, at least not so subtly.

It could have been some sort of a hint at Jason. If he was not here, that is. But he is, for once, so this is really all the family at one table.

"Yes?" Dick tries, looking around the table just to make sure. Steph and Babs are not here today, but that's definitely not what Talia could have meant. Bruce also looks just a little confused, which is a nice change of pace since he looked guarded and on edge from the very moment Talia showed up.

The woman hums, her eyes studying Damian. The youngest bat keeps his gaze down on his empty plate. No one really understands what's going on, but they all feel like there's something important and heavy hanging in the air.

Then, Talia stands up and turns to Alfred, "We will be dining later. It has come to my attention that kids are a lot more secretive than I thought," she explains cryptically and smiles at Bruce, "Beloved, will you come with me to the training grounds? I have something to show you."

Bruce doesn't move for a long moment, and Talia's smile becomes almost gentle, "It's about your son."

At least that makes the man move.

When they get down to the Cave - since Talia insisted this was not a matter that could be resolved in the manor's training room - it's not only her, Bruce, and the little bat there, of course. The whole family was way too intrigued, and some were even alarmed.

The most alarming part, though, was the fact that Damian had been uncharacteristically quiet on their way down. Yet, when Dick looked to Cass, she just shook her head slightly. The boy was not worried. To Cass, he looked almost resigned, if a bit displeased.

"Your sword, Damian," Talia commands, and the boy presses his lips into a thin line.

"This is not necessary, Mother."

"It is," the woman looks amused, but there's an underlying layer of concern to her tone.

"...Yes, Mother," Damian nods his head on what feels like surrender and takes his katana. Not the training one, the real blade. Bruce makes a soft, alarmed grunt, but Talia waves him off.

"Not to worry, Beloved. I will not harm our brethren."

She doesn't take a stance, nor does she pick out a weapon, simply lunges for Damian as soon as they are both on the mats. Two daggers seem to appear in her hands out of nothing, and, contrary to her words, her aim is towards Damian's neck. The boy blocks, jumps away, and blocks another attack.

Tim steps closer, "You can't just-"

"Step away, Drake," It's the first time Damian has spoken to them since they've sat down for dinner. His voice is tense, but not derisive. If anything, it sounds a bit tired.

Talia lunges for him again, faster, meaner. Metal clings against metal.

"You understand this can not keep going, my child," she tells the boy, startlingly gentle on the contrary to her definitely dangerous strikes.

Damian doesn't answer.

The rest of Batfam are forced to simply watch the encounter: Damian is mostly on defense as Talia goes for him, harder and harder with every hit. Until, without any warning, the woman strikes for Damian's arm, making him drop his katana, and-

A few things happen at once.

Talia lunges for Damian's throat. Bruce jumps onto the mats so fast that he almost trips. Tim yelps.

But Talia's blade doesn't strike.

A figure of another child, eerily similar to Damian and wearing the League of Assassins uniform, is standing in front of the littlest bat, two crystal clear blades in his hands, blocking the dagger.

Bruce halts midstep. The rest of the family holds their breath.

But Talia simply smiles and drops her daggers, backing away and looking at the boy between her and Damian with a fond gaze.

"Danyal," she greets, and the boy huffs, lowering his weapons. He doesn't drop them - they simply dissipate in the air, turning into tiny snowflakes.

"Mother," he greets back begrudgingly, and his voice is the exact replica of Damian's. A clone? No, because Damian reacts to him nothing like he had to the clones, simply clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes.

"You could have simply asked, Mother," he comments, taking a step forward and stading near the other boy. Danyal. When standing side by side, they look nearly identical - same facial features, same posture, same hair, even if Damian's is a little more tame.

But Danyal's eyes are just a few hues off. Still green but lighter than Damian's.

"I assumed if you have spent years living here and never bothered to mention your brother, I would need a little more than asking, my love," Talia doesn't laugh, but it sounds like she wants to. Both boys roll their eyes, perfectly in sync.

Hold the fuck up, brother?

"Huh. I thought you died," Jason mentions offhandedly, and the whole family whips their heads to him. Yet, before any of them speak, it's Danyal who answers.

"I mean, I did? Kinda?" He waves his hand in the air and shrugs, and he acts so unlike Damian while also simultaneously having his face, that it makes Tim shiver a little.

"You-" Bruce starts, seeming to finally find his voice, but the boy cuts him off.

"I'm not actually yours," he snorts at Bruce's facial expression, "Yeah, I know I look like I am. Blame the ghost sewers, Chronos, and my stupid ass for making decisions while not being fully awake."

There is so much to unpack in that sentence that no one has the barest of ideas on where to start.

Damian curves his lips down in a sneer.

"The longer you stay there staring, the colder the dinner will be when we return," he reminds them, and Danyal suddenly perks up.

"Dinner? Can I join? It's been ages since I've had anything home cooked," he smiles, like there's some kind of an inside joke in that sentence. Damian rolls his eyes.

"The food doesn't come alive in this household, Danyal."

"Bummer," the boy looks a bit disappointed, but not too much. "And it's Danny, for the thousandth time."

Talia picks up her daggers, hiding them somewhere in her clothes in an unnoticeable motion. Then, she gives Bruce a small, if a bit sly, smile.

"You can not call it 'family dinner' if not all your family is there."

[seasons-of-death]

brother's best friend

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

genre: smutsmutsmut, minors DNI!!!

synopsis: your brother's best friend has never been too interested in you, but when he sees you after you spent the summer away, he sees you in a new light.

word count: 2.6k

a/n: i've been weirdly into blonde men lately. i might be mentally ill idk. anyway, this is my first time publishing smut so if this sucks i give everyone permission to throw tomatoes at me. and yes i finished writing this at 4am.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩

You had known Rafe Cameron for as long as you could remember, and even some of your earliest memories featured him - you simply couldn't remember a time when you didn't know him.

Or, a time when you weren't crushing on him like crazy.

Sometimes, when you were unable to sleep, rolling around in your bed late at night, you couldn't help but cringe at the memories of being a little girl in pigtails and trying to get him to play kissing tag with you, or always bothering him and your brother when he was over, sticking to him like a burdock, or a barnacle. The memories always made you scream into your pillow.

He had always just seen you as his best friend's annoying little sister, some little girl who'd always stuck her nose into things that were none of her business, even though you were only a few years younger than they were. And even as you both got older, things stayed the same. You were nothing but his best friend's little sister.

Until one summer.

It was August, only one week until summer vacation would be over. You'd spent all of your summer at your grandparents' lakehouse five hours away from the rest of your family. And during that summer, a lot changed about you. You got hot.

Or, at least that was the only thing Rafe could think about when he saw you leaning against your kitchen counter, lazily scrolling on your phone while a small, heart-shaped lollipop was between your lips. You were wearing a flimsy black top and frayed denim shorts, and he could see a bit of the tan lines from your bikini from the thin straps of the top.

He had come by to meet up with your brother, but you had simply shrugged and said that he was out, and you didn't know when he'd be back, but that Rafe was welcome to wait for him. And that's how he ended up in your kitchen, unable to keep his eyes off of you, while you simply ignored him. It was unlike any time else; you'd usually be chatting his ear off about something, always wanting his attention. And he did find it adorable sometimes, but he had never really found you that enticing, until now, when you were almost acting like he wasn't even there, standing there, wearing barely anything.

You let out a sigh, rubbing your shoulder absentmindedly, causing your top to cling to your body even more, and his eyes widened when he realized that you weren't wearing a bra. But then, he realized how creepy it must be for him to stare at you, so he cleared his throat, trying his best to look away, while there was an obvious flush on his face.

"So, uh, how was summer?" He asked, trying to come up with something to talk about, and it seemed to work, as you put your phone away and shrugged.

"Pretty uneventful. I pretty much just did what I do here." You said, pulling the lollipop away from your lips with a pop, and he couldn't help but think about how your pretty, plump lips would look wrapped around his co- "How about yours?"

"Yeah, same here..." He said with a hoarse voice, painfully aware of the semi in his cargo shorts.

"Aw, come on." You said, walking over to the dining table he was sitting at, leaning to place your arms on it, basically bending over, allowing him a generous view into your cleavage as you placed the lollipop back in your mouth. "There has to have been something interesting. There's always something here."

"Nope." He muttered, almost unable to tear his eyes away from your cleavage, your nipples hard against the fabric of your flimsy top as you looked at him with raised brows, the semi in his shorts having turned into a proper tent. "Just the same old Outer Banks."

"Lame." You let out a dramatic sigh, pulling the lollipop away from your lips, the lollipop giving them a slight red tint. As you bit down on your lip, the only thing on Rafe's mind was how much he desperately wanted them against his lips.

"Can I ask you something?" He said suddenly, his eyes narrowing as he inspected you.

"Shoot."

"Are you trying to get me to fuck you?"

To say that his sudden and blunt question caught you off guard would be an understatement, your eyes widening and almost causing you to choke on your own spit as you looked at him.

"Cause if that's what you want I can just bend you over the counter right now."

He could see that some of your bravado had crumbled away, a flush that had nothing to do with the temperature creeping onto your cheeks as you cleared your throat and tried to straighten your back, acting nonchalant, but the slight tremor in your voice, as you spoke, was telling him everything he wanted to know. "Oh, yeah?"

He stood up with a grin, and he could see your eyes immediately shoot to the obvious hardness in his shorts, your breath hitching slightly before your eyes flicked back up to his, his hands creeping onto your hips, a part of his calloused hands meeting the slip of bare skin between your top and your shorts.

"You have no idea how much I wanna do that. Ever since I saw you in that top, I've just been wanting to take it off," Rafe slipped one of the spaghetti straps off your shoulders, "and get my hands on those pretty tits."

His hand brushed against the fabric covering your nipple, causing you to shiver and let out a small gasp as you leaned into his touch, clearly wanting more. He leaned closer to your ear, whispering in a husky tone.

"So, how is it? You want it?"

The words caused a wave of heat and desire to shoot to your core, as you nodded slowly.

"Say it. Say it, baby."

The commanding tone in his voice almost caused you to moan, as you looked at him in the eye, speaking with a shaky, trembling voice. "Yeah..."

With that, he had lifted you into the air, his strong hands around your thighs as he held you up, the veins in his arms pronounced as he carried you toward your bedroom.

The moment your back hit the bed, it was like something had taken over him. His body was immediately pressed against yours, his lips attached to yours as if by magnetic force, rough, sloppy kisses that neither of you could get enough of, his tongue slipping into your mouth as he kneaded your breast through the flimsy top.

You pulled at the hem of his shirt as he kissed you, and he pulled away slightly with a satisfied grin on his face as he pulled his shirt over his head, discarding it to the floor, your eyes immediately shooting to his abs.

"What? You like what you see?" He said with a cocky, shit-eating grin that might as well have been tattooed onto his face, and you ran your hands over his muscled, causing him to tense up as he let out a small groan.

His body was back on yours, as Rafe started pressing kisses down your neck, the little bites he'd occasionally sprinkle on your soft skin causing you to let out a small hiss until he ran his tongue over them as if soothing you. His hands were fumbling with the button and the zipper of your denim shorts while his lips were sucking marks into the skin of your neck, until he detached himself from you again, this time to pull your shorts off

He looked down at you, rubbing his chin slightly as he chuckled softly, looking down at you on your bed. Your black panties matched your top, and your lips were plumped even more by the kisses you two had shared, your hair messily thrown around.

"Fuck, you look gorgeous."

His hoarse words caused a flush to run through your body and you covered your face with your hands, before he leaned over you once again, pulling your hands away from your face, and gently pinned them to the mattress. "Don't you dare cover your face... I wanna see how pretty you look when I make you cum on my cock."

"Rafe..." You breathed out his name, making him grin as his hands released your wrists, and his hand slid under your top and up to your breast, kneading it roughly as you arched into his touch, your breathing now completely erratic.

He pulled your top over your head, his pretty lips immediately attaching themselves to your sensitive nipple, sucking it into his mouth in a way that caused you to let out lewd moans while his other hand kneaded your other breast, your hands now gripping your sheets tightly, trying to bite down on your lip.

You felt slightly relieved when his lips pulled away from your nipple, the stimulation driving you crazy with need and desire, only for him to attach his mouth to your other nipple, his hand now going to knead the breast that he just had in his mouth.

After a while, his lips started traveling lower, leaving little kisses and bites all over your abdomen, each of them feeling as if they were lighting up every single vein in your body. When his lips arrived at the waistband of your panties, he simply grinned up at you wolfishly, as he started pressing teasing kisses over your panties.

When he arrived at your clothed core, you let out a small whine, and he looked up at you, licking his lips. "Fuck, you're soaked... Ruined your pretty little panties, all because of me..." He said with a small groan.

"Rafe, please..."

"Please what, baby? Tell me what you want."

His commanding tone only added to your need to feel him in you, and if he was making you plead, then so be it. You weren't above begging for it, not when he had you like this.

"I want you... I need you, please..."

He let out a chuckle as he pulled away, going to unbutton his shorts, letting them pool at his feet before stepping out of them and throwing them away.

"Well, if you insist."

His fingers hooked on the waistband of your panties, throwing them to the floor and looking down at you filled with desire, the fabric of his boxers was starting to feel suffocating against his erection.

He took off his boxers, letting his dick free, and you look at him with slightly wide eyes. Based on his reputation, you would've guessed he was big, but not... big.

"What's wrong baby...?" He said, his body against yours once again, his cock so close to where you wanted, needed him the most. "Worried you won't be able to take me, huh?"

"Mmhm..." You hum with an uncertain nod, making him chuckle against your skin. "Don't laugh!" You say, feeling your face starting to warm up.

"It's okay, baby..." He brought his hand to your face, cupping your cheek, "I'll be gentle, just for you..."

His hand went to stroke the base of his cock, already leaking some precum as he looked down at your naked form, laying there all pretty and needy for him.

Rafe positioned himself at your entrance, looking up at you, pushing away some strands of hair that were messily strewn across your face. "You ready for me?" He asked, and as he rubbed his tip against your entrance, you couldn't help but let out a whimper that was just pure want. "Is that a yes?"

"Yeah... I'm ready..." You said softly, and you let out a high-pitched gasp when you felt him enter you slowly, feeling like he was filling you up even though all of him wasn't even in you yet.

"Fuck, you're tight..." He breathed out as he pushed more of himself into you, giving you time to get used to his size before he thrust all of him into you, causing you to let out a moan.

He started slowly moving inside of you, every bit of movement causing you to moan, arching into him, his name the only thing that managed to slip past your lips, your hands tightly clenching the sheets as you started to get used to the way he was stretching you out, your eyes pressed closed.

"You look so gorgeous like this, baby... God, I could watch your face forever..." He groaned, his hand traveling down to your aching cunt, his thumb starting to draw circles on your clit as he slightly picked up his pace, leaving you trembling underneath him with pleasure.

"Oh god, Rafe..." You moan under him, the way he was filling you causing your brain to start to short-circuit, his cock hitting that spot inside of you that made you feel so good, your legs wrapped around his torso, trying to pull him even closer to him, making him groan your name.

His ringed thumb was starting to pick up its pace on your clit, while he was thrusting himself into you harder and faster, making everything disappear from your mind, your eyes pressed closed. You could tell that you had lost all concept of volume control, but you didn't care; he was making you feel so good it was as if everything else in the world disappeared.

You felt the familiar feeling brewing up in your abdomen, and you clenched the sheets even harder, your moans turning breathier. "Fuck, Rafe, I'm so close..."

"Open your eyes for me, baby..." He said softly, "Want you to look at me while you cum on my cock like a good girl..."

I forced my eyes open, and as I looked at him on top of me, I couldn't help but let out a loud moan of his name, his thumb circling my clit, his cock hitting the right spot at the right pace.

"Come for me, baby... Let me see you come..."

The coil inside of your abdomen was building up, every vein in your body feeling like he had lit them on fire with his simple touch as you looked into his blue eyes as he thrust into you.

And then it just... snapped.

You felt yourself come undone, moaning his name as you climax, your cunt clenching around him so tightly it was making him groan as he tried to hold back his own release, determined to let you ride through your orgasm. You arched into him, tightening the hold your legs had around his waist.

But as you did so, it was the last straw for him. He felt himself spill into you with a groan while you were mid-orgasm, clenching around him as if trying to drain all of his cum out of him and into you, your moans mixing with his groans.

Heavy breaths filled the room as you both were getting down from your respective orgasms and when he pulled out of you and saw some of his cum leak out of you, he could swear he was starting to get hard again.

He collapsed onto the bed next to you, letting out a soft chuckle as he looked at you, both of you completely blissed out of your minds. He turned to his side, looking at you with a grin as he ran a hand over your bare chest.

"Has anyone told you how beautiful you look when you come?"

You could feel your cheeks warm up, causing you to chuckle as you turned to your side, hiding your head in his chest as he pulled you close to him, pressing a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

Suddenly, you could hear the front door open and close, and you looked up at Rafe with a small chuckle.

"I guess my brother's back."

"Aw, I was having much more fun waiting for him." He said with that familiar grin, pulling you into a soft kiss.

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight: Part 4

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 3 | Series Masterlist | Part 5

Chapter Summary: You try to continue the date like "normal" after Bucky's promise.

Chapter Word Count: Almost 3.4k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, unease, tension, possessiveness, mental and emotional whiplash, reader is trying to stay calm, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! Hope you lovelies enjoy and thank you again for the feedback so far! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . I no longer do taglists, so please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“You’ll be out of your apartment before the end of the month.”

The statement played on a morbid loop in your mind as Bucky pulled you up from your chair. The guard gave you two plenty of room to enter the penthouse again. You looked at him, trying to convey in your expression that you needed him to do something. Anything. The man gave you nothing in return. It was pointless to try. He worked for Bucky, not you. He wouldn't care.

“Did you mean what you just said? Your promise?” You asked as you followed Bucky to the dining room table. You wanted him to take it back, to tell you it was a joke. He couldn't make you leave your home by the end of the month. He had no right.

“I think you know the answer,” he said, pausing when you yanked your hand away and crossed your arms.

“And I think you have a lot of nerve,” you uttered as he pulled out your chair. “Where the hell do you get off? And how do you even plan to get me out of my home? It’s not like you own the building.”

You had no idea how deep Bucky’s pockets ran. There was a chance he could buy the building tomorrow or bribe someone into evicting you. Would he stoop that low?

“I adore you, Kotyonok, but I’m not going to tell you and ruin the surprise,” he smiled, gesturing for you to take a seat. “And you haven't seen me get off yet.”

You ignored his comment as you sat down and stared into the flame of the candlelight. The familiar scent of the meal drifting from the kitchen put you at ease for the most part, but your stomach turned. Would this really be where you'd spend your meals from now on? It didn't matter that the penthouse was beautiful. You had a home. Maybe it wasn't as nice as this, but it was still yours.

Did Bucky care about your distress at all?

You blinked when you saw your wine glass on the table. The guard had grabbed both of your glasses from the balcony. For a man of his size, he sure as hell moved quietly. “Thanks,” you whispered, taking another swig to help calm your flaring nerves.

“You’re welcome,” he said.

“You know, I was so excited to have you in our home I don’t think I introduced the two of you,” Bucky said as the man stood tall. “This is Raymond, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you call him Ray since you’ll be seeing a lot of him.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. Bucky said “our” again. Not “his”. You wanted to go back to bed and hide under your covers. “It’s nice to meet you. Is it okay if I call you Ray?” You asked, not wanting his boss to speak for him.

How and why did he work for him anyway?

His eyes were a brighter shade of blue than Bucky’s, but still had a touch of coldness. Though his expression did soften a fraction as he considered your question. “You may. And it’s nice to meet you, too,” he replied, nodding toward the kitchen before he stepped back.

The chef walked over seconds later with plates in hand, a large smile on his face. “Here we are. We have the…” You tuned him out as the dish was set in front of you, your eyes on Bucky across the table. He didn’t look at the chef either, your gazes locked in a silent battle. Your hand began to ache before you realized you were gripping the handle of your knife. You released it and looked away, but you caught his smirk anyway.

He won.

“Enjoy!” The chef finished, clasping his hands together.

Bucky shot him a look before he could walk away. “I’ll enjoy it once I know she does,” he said, his smile soft as he turned his attention back to you. “Dig in.”

A beat passed and all eyes were on you, waiting for you to have the first taste. It was unsettling to say the least as you blindly grabbed a piece of flatware to take a bite. You slowly chewed the food and wished you could've appreciated the additional flavors the chef added to make your favorite meal that much better, but being under the scrutiny of the entire room took away the delight.

“It’s delicious,” you announced, bringing another piece to your mouth. The chef’s audible sigh made it hard to swallow. What would Bucky have done if you didn’t like the food? “Thank you.”

“Yes, thank you,” Bucky added, still gazing at you like you were the center of his world. “Ray, would you show him out please?”

The chef didn’t have to be told twice as Ray wordlessly led him away.

You didn't miss the way Bucky's eyes followed your motions as you continued to eat. They told you he’d rather have you for the meal. That he’d reach under the table at any moment and part your thighs to gather the taste of you on his fingers. You firmly pulled your legs together.

“Are you not hungry?” You asked. He hadn't touched anything on his plate. Too busy staring at you. Why was he so fascinated with watching you do something as mundane as eating?

“I wanted to make sure you ate enough before I dug in,” he answered, finally taking a bite. He groaned as his eyes slipped shut, the sound making you press your legs even closer together. Being handsome didn't excuse a thing and you refused to let him get to you. “You're right. This is delicious.”

You averted your eyes when he ran his tongue over his lips. “Well, you hired him, so I imagine he's an amazing chef.”

“He is. I’m not a bad cook, but I don’t cook as often as I'd like.”

You nodded. Running a club likely kept him busy, but he could've used his free time cooking or doing something else instead of looking into your life. You ranted about that already though.

“Maybe we can have a day of the week where we make a meal together. We’ll take turns picking different meals to try, like pizza. We’ll have to make a pizza together,” he said, leaning forward as his eyes lit up. “I could even set up a projector on the balcony if you wanted to cuddle outside and watch a movie. Or we could do something indoors.”

“What if I don't want pizza? Or a movie night?” You asked, trying to gauge his reaction since you actually enjoyed pizza and movies.

“If that isn't what you're in the mood for, we can figure it out together,” he offered.

“Can we?” You asked, pushing a bit of the food around with your fork. “Or will you just make the decisions for me?”

You were speaking as if you planned to continue with his delusion. That you would actually have dinner dates and movie nights and cuddle. Things you always wanted with the right partner. The one you chose.

He twirled the knife in his hand before he pointed it at you. “I told you I don’t want to control you.”

“Yet you’re putting me in a cage.”

“You have a lot of freedom,” he retorted, taking another bite. “It’s not like I’m telling you to stop spending time with your friends or not have hobbies. I just want you close by. And about your job-”

Your eyes flashed. “If you’re about to tell me I have to quit, I will throw wine on you.”

“Thought you said it was too delicious to waste.”

“I’ll throw your glass on you and enjoy the rest of mine,” you said, warmth creeping up your neck when he chuckled. “Don’t laugh. I’m serious, Bucky. I’m not going to quit my job. I don’t care how much money you have. I love what I do.”

He laughed still, but held a hand up on surrender. “Kotyonok, I won’t make you quit your job. I know you love being a florist and I’m not about to take something away that makes you happy.”

You reigned your inner claws in. “So, I can keep working like normal? And why are you calling me Kotyonok? What happened to doll?”

“Doll, Kotyonok, you suit them both.” He reached up and ran a hand through his hair, looking every bit like the king of his castle. “And you can.”

“Oh. Well. Thank you,” you said, wishing you didn’t feel the need to thank him when it shouldn’t be his decision to begin with.

The two of you ate in semi-comfortable silence after that. You wanted to trust that he wouldn’t mess with your job, but he was interfering in the rest of your life. Maybe it wasn’t a cage he had you in after all, but he did have you on a leash.

Either way, you were his pet.

“Dance with me,” he stated once your plates were clear.

“There’s no music,” you said before a soft melody began to play in the room. You glanced around and tried to find where the speakers were. Ray must’ve turned it on.

You allowed him to help you up from your seat to hold you close. You bit back a protest when he guided your hands to rest at the base of his neck. There was hardly any room between you as he rested his hands on your hips and helped you sway to the slow beat. It contrasted with how your heart raced and you had to close your eyes to escape his gaze.

“I felt like I’d been asleep for a long time until you came along. You woke me up. Made me feel,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead. “We’ll be happy together.”

His words had you catching your breath. He wasn’t the kind of predator who went right for the kill or the kind that merely stayed in the grass to bide his time. This was a cat and mouse of sorts. He caught and released you. The scary part was you didn’t know how long he’d hold onto you before he sank his teeth in or how long he’d let you run before he caught you again.

“I really want to kiss you,” he murmured, your heart thudding more as he rested a hand on your cheek.

“Not on the first date,” you said, hoping it sounded more like a tease than a complete refusal.

He chuckled and brought his lips to your ear. “What does our second date get me?”

You didn’t want to say the wrong thing, especially since he was playing along. But how long would you be able to fight off his want for you? “I guess we’ll play it by ear,” you answered.

“Making me work for it. I respect that,” he said, checking his watch as the song changed. “Speaking of being respectful, I should probably get you back to your place.”

As eager as you were to leave, you still asked, “No dessert?”

His heated eyes swept over you as he traced the diamond necklace with his finger. “I want you for dessert, but I’m trying to be good,” he replied, his voice husky as you held your breath. “I also made sure we’d have dessert to share in the car. Why don’t you go get your clutch and we can go?”

“Sure,” you said, taking one last look around the place as you went to get it. Bucky went to Ray and whispered something you couldn’t make out, but you went to the door instead of trying to eavesdrop. You didn’t want to know what the conversation was about. If it didn’t involve you, well, it wasn’t your business to begin with. And if it involved you, you were bound to find out anyway and you were too tired and mentally drained to deal with it.

A bath and more wine wouldn’t even help.

“I hope you like it,” Bucky smiled, holding up a small container as he joined you with Ray right behind him.

“Let me guess,” you said, taking the container from his hand. “It’s my favorite.”

“Of course,” he said, opening the door and putting an arm back around you.

You looked back when Ray didn’t follow you into the elevator, wishing he’d join you so you wouldn’t be alone with Bucky in there. You supposed it didn’t matter. Would he stop his boss if he tried anything or just look the other way?

It was surreal to leave the penthouse. You half expected him to go back on his word and not let you go. You glanced at him as the elevator went back down to the garage. Besides being a walking red flag, he was still a mystery.

“You said your mom would’ve loved me. Past tense,” you said, seeing his jaw clench. “Did something happen to her?”

He tightened his arm around you as the elevator stopped. “She’s gone and that’s a topic for another day,” he said, pausing to give you a tender smile. “But thank you for asking.”

The man had issues, but you hadn’t meant to touch on a sore topic. Why were you asking personal questions about him anyway? You weren’t his girl. He wasn’t going to be your guy. This wasn’t a fairytale. If it was, he would be the villain disguised as a king.

Bucky helped you back into the car, once again not waiting for the driver, and got in beside you. He barely had the door closed before you pulled you into his lap, the container almost falling from your hand as the other went to his chest. “Bucky, what are you-”

“I said you could sit in my lap after dinner,” he smirked, running a hand along your thigh. Your body went rigid as his hand trailed higher. “I won’t do anything except feed you.”

You stayed perfectly still as he moved his hand away and opened the container. He promised he wouldn't force anything tonight, but you didn't want to throw fuel on the fire by shifting and inadvertently teasing him. It would be fine. A short drive and you’d be back at your apartment.

“Open,” he ordered. You obeyed, your mouth opening up for him to place a piece of the dessert on your tongue. He swore under his breath as you closed your mouth to chew and his hand found its way back to your thigh. “Swallow it, Kotyonok.”

You were lucky you didn’t choke, the normally sweet treat sliding bitterly down your throat. He probably imagined saying those exact words to you in a very different sort of scenario. Feeling his hips move slightly beneath yours, he was likely imagining it right this second.

“Good girl,” he sighed, feeding you another piece before he buried his face in your neck. “I can't wait until you're really home.” His breath tickled your skin. “I won't have to say goodnight and watch you walk away. You’ll be beside me and fall asleep in my arms.”

“In your home,” you whispered, tilting your head to give you some space, but he followed.

“Our home,” he corrected you. “End of the month.”

Your chest ached, but you breathed evenly. You were almost home and could panic once you were alone. “It’s too soon. You understand that, right?”

“I went too long without having you by my side. You understand that, right?” He asked, cupping your cheek to make you look at him. “You went too long without me, too.”

It wasn’t fair that he was trying again to prey on your loneliness. “Bucky, you have to give me some leeway here.”

“We can figure it out together,” he said, the same thing he said during dinner. Dismissive. He thought he was going to get his way. And he would, wouldn't he?

“Well, we aren’t figuring that out tonight,” you said, pushing off his lap when the car came to a stop and fixing your dress since it rode up. “Good night.”

He stopped you from getting out. “I have to walk you to your door.”

“I’m not letting you in,” you warned. You needed your space.

“You do remember that I can get in your place without you opening the door for me, right?” He cupped your cheek again when your eyes rounded. “But I won’t do that tonight. I’m just making sure you get in safely.”

“That’s ironic coming from you,” you mumbled.

He chuckled and helped you out. Your building normally looked like a safe haven, but it was like there was a clock overhead counting down the moment until it was no longer yours. “I really do love how sweet you are, but I love your claws when they come out.”

“Careful. I just might scratch you.”

He groaned, leading you inside. “You know, you’re welcome to scratch up my back. Leave your mark on me and I’ll leave one on you.” He winked when you caught his eye. “And in you.”

He caught you when you stumbled. “Stop saying stuff like that, please,” you begged, straightening yourself out. You weren’t sure how much more you could take tonight.

“I can’t help myself,” he said, taking your phone from his pocket once you got to your door. “I had a really nice time tonight.”

His fingers touched yours as you took your phone back. “I had a nice time, too,” you said. Under normal circumstances, a romantic dinner and diamond necklace would’ve been a dream come true. “Good night, Bucky.”

He lingered as you unlocked your door. You turned to remind him that you weren’t inviting him, but you couldn’t speak when he leaned in. His lips brushed the corner of yours, all too gentle and intimate.

“Sweet dreams, Kotyonok.”

You ducked inside without another word and locked the door, listening for his footsteps. It took a moment, but you heard him walk away before you slid to the floor. It felt like you could finally breathe again since you were home and he wasn’t going to bother you again tonight.

Your heart sank though when you checked your phone and saw a message from Addison.

“Change of plans for tomorrow and I’m so sorry, but Brady somehow got us a reservation at The Terrace. Can you believe it?! Maybe we can hang out the day after?”

Tears burned your eyes. You were looking forward to seeing her. It would've been nice to pretend that everything was normal. Or maybe you would've told her at least something about your situation.

Your mind drifted to Bucky. The Terrace was one of the best restaurants around and usually booked a couple of months in advance minimum. Was it a coincidence that Brady somehow got them reservations on the day you were supposed to hang out with Addison or did your new suitor have something to do with it?

Speak of the devil, you received a new message from the man himself.

“Thank you again for the wonderful date. Are you free tomorrow night? I’d love to introduce you to some of my friends.”

Your eyes narrowed. The second you see that your plans are broken, he messages you? If you didn't think he meddled before, you certainly did now.

“I don’t have anything to wear.”

He messaged back seconds later. “Yes, you do. I can have it sent over or have it ready for you here.”

You huffed out a laugh before a couple of tears fell. Meeting Bucky’s friends would be another step in his plan to make you his. If they didn’t like you, maybe they’d sway him into forgetting about you. It was wishful thinking. Because you knew in your heart that Bucky wasn’t going to let you go.

But if he was going to play, maybe you could find a way to throw him off his game.

“I actually have plans. Maybe another time.”

You didn't bother looking to see if read the message or if he responded. Your life was your own. Bucky would have to deal with it. But knowing how he handled things so far, he’d find a way to have you on his arm tomorrow night.

Yay to @targaryenvampireslayer for guessing who the guard is! And what's Bucky going to do since you declined meeting his friends? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[kombuuuu]

Miles 42 headcanons?

no one asked but i’ll deliver !!

Miles!42 x Fem!Reader random headcanons

also a lot of snippets :)

You/Reader: Blue

Miles Morales: Purple

Mama Rio/Rio Morales: Pink

Uncle Aaron/Aaron Morales: Orange

Random/stranger: Black

—

gift giving love language duhhh

Will have you walk with him through malls and whatever you look at for a second too long he buys

You don’t catch on until you’re both eating at a nice restaurant, absentmindedly staring at some plant when a lull in conversation happens.

He purchases the plant.

“Fuck you mean I can’t buy it?”

“Sir, the plants aren’t for sale, this is a dining establishment.”

“Establish the fact I’m gettin’ that plant.”

“Sir—“

50 bucks down and a plant 🆙

He will damn right die if you refuse him. He’ll get all grumpy and pouty when you say he should save for a house, not for you.

convinced you just get shy when bought things (you do).

is even more motivated to buy things

“Miles, baby, you need to save up. Not spend on me!”

“This would look so good on you, Ma.”

“Are you listening??”

“Fuck, and this.”

“Oh my god.”

gets so jealous it’s unbelievable

but only when someone goes too far with you

it’s like 1–100 real quick

he’s not usually the prowling type (ha)

but when someone pushes the line he loses his shit

other than that he’s a supportive bbg all the way

“Wanna go home with me, butterface?”

“Fuck you just say?”

“Nothing homie just get outta here.”

“Say that shit again ‘homie’.”

“Chill the fuck out. Let the lady speak for herself.”

“I’ll fucking speak for my girl all I want, homeboy.”

maybe got a liiiiittle bit of an anger issue

guy went home with a broken nose and a missing tooth

better hope he can afford fill ins

he would never get mad at you though

he gets frustrated you don’t listen sometimes, but it’s never to the point of anger

feel like he has the patience of a fucking SAINT

calm and collected baby u know the deal

“Mami, we gonna have a problem?”

“”

“Didn’t think so.”

a SWEETHEART at times

stand by him being raised right

mama rio taught him to be a romantic

wanted him to take after his dad

so flowers and gifts and chocolates

followed by lovin of any kind

probably a baby for affection but doesn’t show it

so when you get all emotional about being gifted roses for the first time

and hug him and smother him

give him stupid little kisses all over

he’s fainting

poor boy doesn’t know love like u show him

“Baby, are these for me?”

“Yeah, Chiquita. They okay?”

“Wh… They’re perfect.”

“Are you cryin’? I can return ‘em.”

“No! No, no, don’t do that.

I love them, C’mere.”

when you guys get rlly comfortable, like a year and some dating, he ends up getting more chatty

willingly talking w you for hours

feels like you’re the only person he can rlly do that with

rambles so rarely that you kind of just sit in awe when it happens

doesn’t catch himself until he’s trying to name your future kids

“I’ll marry you one day, we’ll have like two, three kids. Get all nice an cozy.

You want a boy or girl? I kinda want both. Definitely not girl first, never having a girl without a brother to protect ‘er.

You’d be such a good Mami.

What’d you wan’ name ‘em? I have a few ideas—“

“..”

“But you could choose the girl cause I don’t know any pretty names. And i’ll choose—“

“..”

“..”

“You gon’ let me keep goin?”

“I love your voice.”

“Tranquila, mami.”

Takes you to every family event he ever has

sits you regularly with Rio and Aaron

they insist you call them uncle and ma

you do, obviously

miles doesn’t need to meet your family if you don’t want him to, but if he ever does he’s totally suave with them

like weirdly smooth

able to get on ur carers good side quick

when you meet his extended family they’re just as loving

his whole family is this bright dash of colour

and you fit right the fuck in

“¡Oh, hija estás preciosa!”

“Dice la estrella de la fiesta!”

“You flatter me, Hija.”

“Miles, come get your girl.”

“You look nice too, Uncle Aaron.”

“..Thanks, kid.”

“Hey Mami, havin’ fun?”

“Aight, I’m out.”

when you find out he’s the prowler you’re not really shocked

he’s hella nervous to tell you and kinda puts it off for a while

as long as you’re not in harms way, nothin matters, yeah?

no

the guilt eats him alive

he’s already lost so much, if he doesn’t do things right with you, then loses you too

he’d probably lose himself

so he tells you

“The Prowler?”

“Yeah.”

“The.. Panther guy I keep seeing on the news-?”

“Mm.”

“Miles are you—

..—Are you killing people?”

“Mami, it’s not like that—“

“oh my god.”

“These men— I kill,”

“Oh my god, oh my god.”

“,They’re bad, you understand.”

“Miles..”

“[Name]. Do you understand?”

“Yeah.. Yeah I understand.”

“You can’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t.”

“…”

“Are you mad.”

“I’m not happy.”

“Okay.”

you’re kind of devastated he’s killing people

but you eventually get it

like it takes a while

say a month or so

but you forgive quick

i mean, who knows what those men are doing, right?

(ur delulu but it’s ok)

he lets you have your space but talking with mama rio when she realises your absence knocks some sense into him

mans is going to GROVEL

he will fucking beg on his damn knees

knocks on your door and is already kneeling

will plead with you to come back to him

like i said a whole ass romantic

you know what’s romantic? a man who can get on his knees

he will suffocate you in gifts and affection

oh you like (insert sanrio esc character) ? look over there at that lifesize plushie woahhhh wonder who that’s forrrrrr

“Hello?”

“Mami, don’t close the door.”

“Miles, go home.”

“And please stop kneeling, the floor is dirty.”

“I’m not leaving ‘til you hear me out.”

looooong sigh

“Okay, fine— whatever, come inside. You have two minutes.”

“God, I missed you. You’re so beautiful Chiquita.”

“Three minutes.”

You talk it out easy, he’s a real smooth talker when he wants to be

“Okay Miles, I’ll see you tomorrow yeah?”

“Yeah, Ma. See you soon.”

“Wh—.. What is that?”

“Ohhh…”

“Why the fuck is it so big?”

“It said “Life Size” on the site? I was thinking like two feet tall.”

“You bought that?”

“Yeah.. I was thinkin’ you wouldn’t let me in. Would have to bribe you.”

“…That’s really cute.”

Annnnnd that’s all i can come up with i’ll probably do more later :P

[unspeakable-imagination]

Couch Cuddles || Logan Howlette/Wolverine

Kinda a drabble, not to long.

My masterlist is here

Cw:lumberjack logan even though it's not really mentioned, lots of fluff/cuddles, mentions of sex but nothing happens, use of tabacco and alcohol, established relationship, use of petnames, fem reader

SEND IN YOUR ASK REQUESTS, ILL MAKE MORE CONTENT

"I'll be back soon," Logan said as he placed a warm kiss to the top of your temples. "I need to go to work. You know where to find me, right, princess?" You nodded silent.

His eyebrows creased and his lips turned to a small frown. You hardly caught it, but you did."I love you, Logan. Drive safe, okay?"

His mood had shifted the moment the first three words left your lips, and he already felt better. "I will, baby girl." Before you knew it, he was out the door and you were sitting on the sofa, curled in a blanket in the cabin he's built by hand for the two of you.

You'd been living together for a year, and dating for two. Maybe it was a little fast to move in, but he pulled you out of water when it felt like tou were drowning.You were stuck in living a life of manotany and Logan was always looking for some way to make his own exiting. And somehow- he figured that was you.

You weren't sure why- as you really thought you wanted different things than him. You wanted to settle down, maybe even have kids. You wanted to dance in a kitchen and shoo a cat off the table, and watch your kids throw sticks for a dog to chase.

You wanted a life of meangful relationships, not just the one you viewed with Logan. You weren't even sure if you two were considered dating.

You'd never made it official, just kind of- moved in. Sure, you were intimate, you'd discussed being exclusive, and agreed that while you were together- it would just be a simply monogamous relationship, but what kind of relationship was it?

You bristled at the idea of it simply being a situationship. You loved him and the idea of that almost made your heart shatter. Maybe you'd have to talk to him when he came home.

To fill your time, you opted to just sit with a warm cup of tea- you weren't sure what kind, you hadn't paid attention, and a book. It was some silly fantasy story about mutants, monsters, and fairy's. Midevil monster hunters, swords and magic. The white-haired protagonists adopting a cheeky blonde princess and teaching her the ways of his guild.

And you got a good portion through it, with good breaks between meals and some normal daily activities, basic cleaning, laundry, and putting something in the oven for when Logan did finally come home.

The day passed you quickly and by the time you were taking dinner from the oven, a simple cottage pie, Logan's truck rumbled as it pulled to the window and parked in its rightful spot. You watched him run his hands through his hair, you noticed the look on his face, and you watched him light his cigar before he opened the truck door and heave his way out.

Your eyes followed him as he walked past the window , towards the doorway, and lost him as he entered. You quickly averted you gaze and resorted to dishing a heaping pile of the hot meal into two bowls. Grabbing them and weaving past the chairs of the dining table, you brought them to the coffee table where Logan had sat down.

"Welcome home, Lo." It was quiet but you knew he heard you with how he gently perked. He took a deep breath and it was like a calm wave washed over him, the closer you got.

"Hey, darlin'," he started. He watched you place the two bowls onto the table and sit down next to him. He pulled the cigar from his lips and blew his smoke away.

"What are you thinking tonight? Need a drink or some soda? Water?"

"Just a beer is okay, please, love?" You were quick to get it, and your own tall glass of milk. You popped the cap from the bottle and returned to his side. She was already scarfing down his food, starved from the tirless hours he'd been working at the mill. You placed the bottle on a coaster and took your seat beside him.

You took a drink of your milk before you grabbed your own bowl, but paused before you ate. Logan put his fork in his bowl and grabbed your knee, pulling your leg to drape across his own. It made your stomach flutter, and your heart quickened at the smallest but of affection.

Logan was craving your touch most of the day. He felt so desperate for a good day, a real day, a long day with you. He'd been so busy at the mill that he'd hardly had a day off and was itching to spend time with you aside from curling up, wrapping his arms around your waist as you sleep.

He missed hearing your laugh, and missed your smile, even the small ones. He'd missed being around for more than sleep and mornings. Sure, he'd come home and snake his tounge or hips between tough thighs, but that's not what he needed. He needed you. He needed your words.

Eating was mostly silent, peaceful. You'd asked the normal questions, and ge did too. How was your day, what did you do, what did you eat, I missed you.

Logan had long finished his food as you sat there, finishing your last bites. Patting your belly, you sighed. "I'm sure full. Do tou need any more, Lo?"

"No, baby. Let me grab thoes." He'd stood and grabbed both your bowls and him empty bottle, taking them to the kitchen and putting them in the sink and garbage.

He returned and sat down, pulling you closer to his hip."Want to watch a movie, darlin'?" It was a simple ask- but it was the way he asked it thag had you turning to putty in his arms. His lips rested against your forehead, his nose in your hair. He took a deep breath, humming at how good you smelled to him

"No, I just wanna hold you." he was sure he felt his heart stop. That was all he needed from you. He just needed your attention, your love. "But Lo," you hummed. "I need to talk to you about something. Oh no. Oh god no, we're you going to leave him? The one relationship he's had successfully- and he was worried he'd loose you. He pulled his fingers from your hair and leaned backwards onto the couch, but still facing you.

You crawled onto his lap, straddling him, wrapping your arms around his neck and your face buried in his chest. What?

"What you wanna talk about, baby girl?" He said, his hands sliding up your legs and settling around your waist, locking his fingers together to hold you.

"Us," you said, your breah came out shaky, as if you were gonna cry. You raised your head from his chest and looked at him, one right land moving to cup the side of his face. "What are we, Lo?" You sounded so meek and nervous. "I'm so scared that this is just some situationship and i-"

He interrupted you. "What, a situationship? Baby, your going to be my wife." Your heart skipped a beat. Did you hear him right? You hadn't even established dating? Had you missed something

"I- I what?" He groaned. "Fuck, I was going to wait to ask you." He easily lifted you with one of the arms he ticked under you thigh and fished his other hand in his pocket. He'd pulled out a small green box. "It's not all that fancy." Your hand left his face and covered your mouth, your eyes welling with tears.

"Logan," you softly gasped. Once you were sat back comfortably on his lap he opened the ring box in front if you. It was a thing, shiny silver ring with a pretty diamond set into the band. It was simple, charming, and it glimmered. "Logan I love it."

"Hold on, baby. I havnt even gotten the chance you say it. [Name], will you marry me? Can we live the rest of our lives together? I need you to be more than my girlfriend. I need you to be my wife. I need tou to be the mother of our babies." He looked down to the ring, then back up at your face, tears freely flowing from your eyes.

"Yes logan, God yes. I want to marry you, I can't wait. I can't wait for us to have a family." He grinned and took the ring out, grabbing your hand and placing it on your ring finger. You leaned down, curling into his chest, listening to his heart. You sighed.

"I love you, my [Name]."

[hogwartssexpress]

the sting of jealousy 

poly!marauders x fem!reader 

dating them comes with rewards and consequences, one of them being dealing with your jealous roommate.

tw: not proofread, established relationship, hurt/comfort, angst w/ a happy ending, bullying (r receiving), injuries (r receiving, bruises), marauder’s coat described being loose on the reader

Whenever you feel like you’re taking two steps forward, there will come the day you have to take one step back. It reminds you in a way that life isn't always fair, that for every once of happiness you get there'll be a bad day on the way to keep you humble. 

Since you’ve been dating the marauders it's like you’ve been placed in the middle of a stage with a light shining right on you. You’re not entirely a nobody anymore, their reputations succeeding your previous one. Being friends with them was one thing, but dating them is another–and it’s brought a lot of negative attention since you’ve seemingly “crossed the line” for a lot of onlookers. Those who fantasized about being with the three before bed and during classes were not happy to find out that you’ve taken the place they’ve only dreamed of. 

They just couldn't wrap their minds around why they’d open up their circle for someone like you. 

Your roommate–after witnessing a kiss placed onto your cheek–felt her heart drop. The door had barely shut and she was already moving off of her bed. 

“Did James Potter just kiss your cheek?”

        “Oh, it's nothing,” you waved her off, moving to your bed to remove a coat that your roommate recognized was too loose on you.

“That’s not nothing,” she slides to sit beside you, “how long have you been with James?”

         You fiddled with the coat, “And Remus and Sirius. I believe I’ve been with them for a month now.”

She nods, biting her cheek and looking away, “so the rumors are true.” 

          “What rumors?”

You watch her stand, eyes following as she wanders back to her side of the room. The prolonged silence makes your heart pace just a bit faster. 

“That you’re a whore for dating three men.”

You feel as if you’ve stopped breathing, breaths short and shallow. 

“What?”

      “Others are quite wild, suggesting that you’ve casted spells so they’d date you,” she looks at you expectantly, almost playfully, “have you?”

“No, never.”

       “Hm. Not sure why that’s difficult for me to believe. Anyways, goodnight.”

She climbed into her bed then, back turned towards yours. The weight of her words affected the both of you differently. It brought a smile onto her face knowing she made yours drop. 

The day after you had noticed people looking at you, others looking in your direction. Now with knowledge of what others were saying about you, you felt self-conscious–walking with your mind tumbling into nowhere. Two hands appeared in front of you, holding onto your forearms. 

“G’morning,” James smiled down at you so you attempted to smile back for him, “you practically ran into me, everything alright?”

        “I’m alright, just didn't sleep well, sorry.”

It didn’t look like he fully believed you, but regardless he cooed and brought you in for a hug. In his mind he had hoped that it would help like it has before, but this time was different. The affectionate gesture caught the attention of nearby students. Seeing others glaring at the two of you brought you to pull out of his grasp. You’re sure there was a confused–and hurt–expression on his face, but you intentionally avoided looking. 

It was like someone else was controlling your body. You didn’t want to hurt him or push him away, but while out in public you felt like your eyes glazed over. Your focus shifted from the guys to anyone else that came by. It did nothing but worry them. You noticed the way they shared looks at the dining table, but they brushed it off that night–trusting your word that you truly were just tired.

Back at your room for the night you found your roommate and a few of her friends residing on her bed. You smiled at them to be polite but it did nothing, the cold expressions on their faces unwavering. 

“Where’re your boyfriends?”

         “Back in their room, I can go get them if you–”

“Oh no need, we only wanted to talk to you. Can you come over here, please?”

Your roommate stated, emphasizing her words by patting the sheets. The moment you stepped towards them, you found yourself moving backwards instead. You stumble, quite awkwardly too. The back of your arm got the brunt of the fall, the edged surface of her desk collided with your arm hit at an angle that made you wince. The girls smiled, not caring at all that you had just injured yourself on their behalf. You were sure that the rug had been there below you, but after you looked you found the rug had moved into a whole different section of the room, like it had been pulled out from under you.

“Oops,” your roommate whispered, wand raised in the air still, “sorry. I’m just trying to prepare you for when the boys inevitably ‘pull the rug out from under you.’ And by that I mean they dump you.” 

You blinked back tears and rushed out of the door. With your room occupied, you’re thankful for the one other place you can go–theirs. Even before you dated they’ve always welcomed you to stay with them wherever. 

James had opened the door when you knocked, smiling wide.

“Who’s at the door,” you hear Sirius ask in the back. He opens the door wider so Sirius can see.

         “Would it be okay if I stay here tonight?”

“Of course, you’re always welcome,” James says, moving to the side so you can slide through. He sends a look to the other two as you do. You settle on the edge of the bed, Remus sitting closest to you with a book on his lap. James settles back where he presumingly was, laid back in the ruffled sheets near Remus. 

Usually when you come over you’re greeted with hugs, kisses placed all over your face. You miss the way you teased each other and discussed plans for the next day. Now it was silent, everyone’s  focus set on you as you sat yourself on James’ bed. 

“Are you okay, dove,” Remus asks, voice soft. 

         “Yeah.”

“Anything happen?”

         “No.” 

“Okay,” Sirius quips, the front legs of his chair coming down with his feet as he swings them off the table, “we can all tell something is bugging you, you keep looking off in the corner like there's a ghost in the room.”

         “I’m fine, honest.” 

“Like hell you’re fine.’”

Remus sends Sirius a look that has him throwing his arms up. James scoots forward on the bed to be beside you, resting his hand on your back to rub sweet circles. When his fingered press on your left side, right where you had collided into your roommate’s desk, you’re unable to help the way your body flinches away. From the corner of your eyes it looks as if James flitched in response to your jolt in pain.

The room was silent before, but now it's deathly quiet. The tension freezing in the air, stilling everyone in their spots. You hear Remus slide off the bed behind you to stand behind you.

“Can I lift your shirt?” 

You nod, allowing him to slide the lift side of the sweater you had put on earlier to examine the spot that made you wince. The welt had only just begun to form, but it had enough color and swollen muscle to worry all three boys. 

“Is this at all connected to why you’ve been distant lately?” 

 The tears from before that had built up, pooling in your eyes as you look into Remus’ eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” you cry, “I didn't mean to hide anything from you.” 

          He shushes you, “don't apologize. Can you tell us how you got this?”

“I swear to Merlin if the cause of your injury involves someone else,” Sirius interjects, stopping when James runs a hand over his shoulders.

         “Let’s let her explain first before we jump to conclusions,” Remus says, running his thumb over your hand, urging you to talk. 

“The other night when you dropped me off, my roommate saw you kiss me goodnight. For whatever reason she wished to bring up the rumors others have been saying about us, specifically me before going to bed. And I don't know what came over me, I should not have pushed you all away over a few rumors,” you say, looking specifically at James, “and back at my room just now, I think my roommate pulled the rug out from under me like a cruel prank. She said that she wanted to prepare me for when you all will do the same.”

         James’ hands hold firmer on Sirius’ shoulders after feeling him try to stand, “really James? You’re going to stand there while her roommate is in the room right now? It’s perfect fucking timing–”

“I know, but it’s best now that we stay with her. Look,” he urges Sirius to look, finding you weeping into your hands. 

        “I’m sorry,” you repeat for the umpteenth time, “I should’ve told you.”

“Why did you keep it to yourself,” Remus asks. 

        “I didn’t want to be a bother, I assumed you all have dealt with similar things.”

“We have,” James pipes in, still pushing Sirius down, “but we had each other. We’ve learned to tune them out.”

      Sirius shoves James’ hands off, “I’m only coming to talk to her, calm down. Look, gorgeous, I’m sorry she said and did such nasty things. None of what she did was warranted. My only wish is that you brought it up to us, and communicated how you’ve been feeling. If you had come to tell us what she said right after she had, she never would’ve pulled what she did a few minutes ago I can promise you that.” 

You smile, the sight infecting him and causing his lips to curve upwards. 

“You’re right though, dove. Even if you did tell us,  it doesn’t fully stop others from being arseholes–but it allows us to care for each other. You don’t have to go through that alone, alright? Promise you’ll talk to us next time?” 

       “Promise.”

[reilemon]

🍒My Everything🍒

♡︎ synopsis: You didn't plan on celebrating your birthday during undercover mission, but Xavier still wanted to surprise you. A little twist on the 21 Days memory.

♡︎ pairing: Xavier x fem!reader

｡°⚠︎°｡MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)｡°⚠︎°｡

♡︎ cw: birthday sex, fingering, oral (both male and female receiving), creampie, multiple orgasms

♡︎ word count: 3.4k

♡︎ a/n: I call myself Zayne girlie yet here I am posting my fourth Xavier fic. Anyways, Sylus is next.

♡︎ requested by @sadfragilegirl ♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎ for reading and helping me with this! divider by @cafekitsune

The undercover mission with Xavier has been going smoothly so far. You two put up a convincing act of a young couple in love in front of others, and actually got along well behind closed doors. You didn't want to tell him this, but you were genuinely surprised at how good of a homemaker he is. When you heard about the assignment, you were excited that it's him who's going to be living with you, but at the same time anxious. Xavier is a reliable work partner, but what would he be like as a roommate? So far, you had no complaints and actually were looking forward to coming home back to the apartment you and Xavier temporarily lived in for around three weeks.

As you mindlessly stroll around a grocery store, you reminisce about one more cause of anxiety about the mission - your crush on your coworker and neighbor. You're not sure when it started, but it doesn't matter because you made it your own mission to bury those feelings and hope they disintegrate. For a while you considered acting on it and taking the first step, but then you realized you had a lot to lose if it doesn't work out. And you tried to convince yourself that it was just a small crush, because who wouldn't want someone hot and reliable? Right?

A weary sigh leaves your lips and you turn a corner - Party Supplies. Oh. Right, it's your birthday today. You didn't say anything to Xavier because you didn't want to make him feel obligated to buy you a gift or make something today. You two are on a mission after all, and you can get to celebrate it later when it's over.

You pass the party supplies aisle and head towards the check out. You wonder what kind of concoction Xavier cooked today.

₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧

Even though you settled on not celebrating your birthday today, you still wanted to treat Xavier, so you bought a cherry pie from a pastry shop that always smells so good and makes your mouth water every time on the way back from 'work'.

As you fiddle with your keys at the doorstep, you catch a whiff of something burning. Probably from the inside. Another sigh leaves your lips. Xavier burnt something again, didn't he?

Light gray smoke greets you as soon as you open the door, your eyes taking a moment to adjust and then you see Xavier frantically fanning a kitchen towel over the counter.

You can clearly see the panic in Xavier's eyes over the slowly dissipating smoke when he notices you coming in. "Ah - ! Welcome home!"

You can't help but laugh a little at the scene, but also be confused a little at his behavior. He's usually calm even when he causes a kitchen fire. "So what are we having for dinner?" You tease.

Xavier's shoulders slump in defeat and puts away the kitchen towel. He turns to you and finally looks at you properly, with a defeated smile "A neighbor made you one of your favorite dishes." He nudges his head towards the dining table. Your gaze follows his and you gasp at how beautifully the table was set, with the meal and your favorite flowers waiting for you.

"Xavier, what - "

"Oh, what's this?"

He approached you to take the bag with the groceries while your attention was on the table.

"Oh, I got us a cherry pie."

He only nods and goes back to the kitchen to unload everything.

You sneak towards the cremated object, "So, if we already had dinner, what was this supposed to be?"

"Uh, nothing. I was just experimenting." Xavier absentmindedly answers as he finishes putting everything away.

After he refuses your offer to help with airing out the apartment, you then excuse yourself to the bathroom to take a quick shower and change into more comfortable clothes.

When you exit the bathroom, the smell of what you assume to be burnt dessert is almost completely gone, and now you can see everything properly. You walk back into the dining area and your eyes land on Xavier waiting for you by the table. You gasp in delight when you see what's in his hands - a cute handmade paper crown in your favorite colors.

"Happy birthday." Xavier says softly and steps towards you, placing the crown on your head. It sits so perfectly that you think he might've taken your measurements.

You look up at him, still in disbelief "How did you - "

"Know when it's your birthday? I told you I looked at your profile." He chuckles at the silly question and turns to pull back your chair, offering you to take a seat.

While eating, you found out that what he burnt was supposed to be a birthday cake he thought you would like, but while it was baking he used that time to set the table and make the crown. He didn't want to make it earlier in case you found it. And then the neighbor came to drop off the meal and of course had to linger and chat and also invite herself over tomorrow.

"So, the groceries I bought today - "

"I didn't need any of that, I just wanted to buy myself more time."

You got used to Xavier's weird grocery shopping lists, that you didn't even question why you were buying ketchup, pesto sauce or sausages. You were so touched by the amount of effort and thoughtfulness he put into your birthday dinner; you were smiling the whole time. That crush is not going away anytime soon.

But you can tell that Xavier was almost like a deflated balloon, hesitantly answering your questions as you put two and two together.

You reach across the table, placing your hand over his. "I love everything you've done today." You reassure him in a comforting voice, "And it kinda worked out that the cake got burned, because then the pie would go to waste."

He nods, and you hope you made him feel a little better. Then, he takes your hand and places a soft peck on top of it, and you could feel your cheeks burning instantly. You hope he doesn't notice it.

He does.

After dinner, Xavier shoos you away from the kitchen, not letting you do any of the house chores on your day. So you go to the living room to unwind and wait for him to join you.

₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧

"Sorry, I had to take a shower." Xavier finally appears and takes a seat next to you on the sofa. He's wearing sweats (those gray sweatpants!!) and a loose tshirt, his hair still a little damp from washing away the smoke.

"It's okay, I entertained myself." You throw the other half of your blanket over his lap.

"Did you pick out a movie?"

You nod and start playing the movie on the tv. Since you can't go out together as much thanks to the mission, you found ways to pass the time inside your 'new home'. One of them is watching old movies Xavier used to watch years ago.

And about five minutes into the movie, you feel fluffy gray hair tickling you cheek and nose as his head softly drops on your shoulder. You turn your head and of course, Xavier is already dozing off. You smile softly at him - it's only fair to let him rest, so you try to slowly get up and let him lie down on the soft pillows.

With eyes still closed, he lets you snuggle him into the pillows and the blanket, but then his lips form a playful smirk and in one swift motion, he pulls you under the blanket with him, into his arms.

"You can watch the movie like this, right?" He asks as sleepiness overtakes him again, with the crown, barely on your head, poking his cheek.

Your body is stiff against his, and your voice doesn't help hiding how flustered you are "Um, you don't want to go to your room to take a nap?"

"Nope." He mumbles before dozing off.

You adjust to make yourself more comfortable, resting your head on his chest. The movie is rolling, but it doesn't have your attention. All you can focus on is how relaxing Xavier's presence is, with his weird slow heartbeat and soft breathing. His one hand is holding you close by the waist, while the other one found its way on top of yours that's resting on his chest.

All the nervousness about being so close to him slowly melts away, and you drift off to sleep.

₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧

When your eyes flutter open, Xavier's hand is in full focus as he tenderly caresses your cheek. The moonlight is the only source of light in the room now, and you wonder how long you slept. You prop yourself up a bit to look up at Xavier, but the crown you forgot you still had on slides off over your face, earning an amused laugh from him.

He takes it off for you and sets it on a nearby coffee table. Then he goes back to caressing your cheek.

"Did you sleep well?" He asks.

"Ye - Ow!" Numbness in your arm that was under you makes you grit your teeth and shift on the sofa in search for relief.

"Here." His arms effortlessly move you on top of him, your upper body completely resting on top of his, his legs encasing yours. "Better?" He asks as he grazes soothing circles on the numb arm.

Well you're not sure if it is better because your heart is beating like crazy now that you're on top of him, your faces a breath away. You did cuddle a little before, but you were never this close. So close you're sure he can feel your heartbeat. So you just nod, not trusting your voice.

You two share a moment in silence, gazing at each other’s features, Xavier's fingers still not leaving your face.

"It's a pity your birthday was during an undercover mission. I'll make it up to you when we get back."

You shake your head "This is one of my favorite birthdays actually." He raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to elaborate and hoping you're not just humoring him. "I mean, I had a lovely home and a handsome husband waiting for me. He got me beautiful flowers and made sure I had my favorite meal."

A tone of uncertainty covers your voice "Who should I thank for that?"

When met with a puzzled look you elaborate "Should I thank you as my fake husband playing his role, or as my coworker -"

The fingers on your cheek cover your lips, cutting you off. "Just thank me, Xavier." The digits gingerly graze your bottom lip.

You speak softly “Thank you, Xavier.” Butterflies dance in your belly as you mull over the next question. "And -" You swallow thickly before continuing "What am I to you, Xavier?"

He doesn't say anything, instead he timidly pulls you closer by the back of your head, closing what little distance you had between your faces, his soft lips giving yours a chaste kiss. And when you don't pull away, your hand cupping his cheek, he pulls into a deep, hungry kiss, your bodies pressed hard, feeling every twitch of the muscle and pulse of your veins under your skin - and it's impossible to ignore growing bulge pressing your lower belly.

Xavier curses under his breath "Sorry, I - !" his words get lost in his throat when your hand grazes over his length over the clothes, your lips latching back onto his.

He groans and bites your bottom lip when you give it a few more strokes, feeling out his shape.

Fuck, it's thick.

Growing impatient, you tug at the waistband of the sinful gray sweats, and Xavier lifts his hips and pulls them down just enough to free his rock hard dick. You break away from the kiss to not so subtly look down and even under the low lights you can clearly see it. The sight of it makes you unconsciously rub your thighs and your mouth water.

You might've stared a little too long because a chuckle from the man under you pulls you out from your trance. But he doesn't tease you, maybe because it's your birthday, instead he pulls you back into another breathtaking kiss, while your hand wraps around his length, slowly stroking it.

But you need more - and in the next moment you're sliding down, adjusting yourself between his legs.

A few strokes to the base of his cock and your tongue on the leaking tip elicits a moan from Xavier's lips, and you discover that it's your new favorite sound. So you do what you need to do to hear more of it. Your swirl your tongue around the tip, tasting precum and the tender skin, before you take in more of his length, and greedily you take more and more before your nose is pressed on his pelvis, short hairs of his happy trail tickling you. You don't care how your jaw is barely holding on around his girth, his moans is what keeps you going and panties already drenched. All restrain from Xavier dissipates with every lick of your tongue and clenching of your throat around the tip.

"Fuck, you're doing so good."

His hips start moving faster than your rhythm, his hand on your head holding you in place. Under the hand that's holding you for balance, you can feel his thigh muscles tremble, and you can feel his cock throb in your mouth.

"I'm gonna cum, princess." He gives you the warning, and loosens his grip on your head, but you take it all in, needing to taste him. And in few shallow thrusts, you're tasting and swallowing his cum, not letting a drop go to waste.

You barely catch your breath before Xavier lifts you up and locks his lips with yours, tongue licking your lips and tongue, tasting himself. Then he switches the positions with you, and now you're on your back, stripped of your pants and underwear, Xavier's lips locked with yours and his middle finger sliding between your wet folds. You moan into the kiss as the finger slides into your entrance, quickly followed by a second one. Your hips start moving to meet the pace, the digits hitting all the right spots and your release already building up. Then his thumb presses your clit that was begging for attention, eliciting a yelp from you making Xavier smile against your lips before continuing kissing you. In a few more pumps of his fingers against your sweet spot, you're a panting mess as you cum around them.

When you come down from your high, he brings up those soaked fingers to his lips and licks them, the sight making you blush. His dick twitches in his underwear as he gets a taste of your essence. He needs more.

Before you can even protest about how you're wet enough, he pushes your legs further up against your torso, his face already between them, his breath fanning against your pussy spreading goosebumps all over your skin. The only thing that stopped him from latching onto your pretty pussy is his need to take in the sight of it for the first time.

You cover your face with your hands, too self-conscious about the close up he's getting, even if there's no lights in here. "Xavier..." You whine and move your hips as much as you can under his grasp.

He chuckles at your cute reaction and whispers how perfect you are, then he finally presses his tongue flat against your glistening folds, and your embarrassment melts away. One hand moves from the back of your thigh under your shirt, fondling your breast and playing with your hard nipple until you're squirming from over-sensitivity and he moves to the other one. His lips latch onto your sensitive nub, swirling his tongue around it, sucking and lapping at it, while his other hand finds its way back into your entrance, two fingers easily slipping in and finding the spots that make you moan and buck your hips.

"Just like that - " You breathe, raking your fingers through his hair and holding onto it, while your other hand grabs onto the arm rest behind you, anchoring yourself as Xavier's tongue and fingers stimulate you at just the right pace and you cry out when another orgasm courses through your body.

Xavier soothingly massages your breast and peppers your inner thighs with kisses as you catch your breath.

You hear him ask against your plush thigh "One more?"

Your eyes open and meet his half lidded gaze. You shake your head and grab his wrist "Just fuck me, please."

He was already on edge of another orgasm from just eating you out, and your breathy plea made him so dangerously closer. He positions himself on top of you and pulling down his underwear that now has a big wet spot from his leaking tip. You watch as he positions his cock against your pussy until you hear his soft voice

"Look me in the eyes, honey."

And you lock your gaze with his, eyes barely staying open as the swollen tip slides inside. With languid thrusts, his cock is buried to the hilt and now Xavier needs to anchor himself - he rests on his elbow, burying his face in the crook of your neck, licking and nipping sensitive skin. His other hand finds yours and holds it tight, interlocking fingers and resting it next to your head.

His thrust are deep and hard, his pelvis grazing your clit, making your cunt throb and squeeze around him, making his movements falter. With a strained voice he breathes against your neck "Gonna cum on my cock?"

You nod as you clench around him more when you hear his voice and see his face as he comes up to lock eyes with you and you grab him by the back of his neck, pulling him into a sloppy open mouthed kiss.

You squeeze his hand and lock your legs around his hips as they roll at the right angle.

"I'm so close, honey." He rasps.

And you are seconds away from your third orgasm, your pussy already spasming. "Need you - haah - inside -!"

You open your mouth in a silent cry his dick throbs in your already pulsing creaming cunt, filling it with hot cum. The two of you moan and grunt, erratically moving your hips, riding out each other's high.

With shaky breaths, you slowly calm down and open your eyes.

The two of you can't help but laugh a little when you see each other's blissed out faces. Xavier gives the hand he's still holding a kiss. Your other hand presses on his back to press you completely against him, needing to feel his whole weight on you.

"I'm not crushing you?" he asks as his face is nuzzled against your neck.

You gently stroke his now messy hair. "No let's stay like this for a while."

₊♡₊˚ 🍒・₊✧

After cleaning up the mess on the sofa and showering, you're back in the dining room with the cherry pie on the table. Xavier put the candles on it and the princess crown back on your head. You're about to sit on Xavier's lap and then light the candles but then you remember something.

"Shoot, I almost forgot!"

Confused, Xavier watches you as you hurry out in the dining room. Your phone and the lighter are here, so he can't guess what you would need.

You come back with a giddy smile on your face as you hold something behind your back.

"Something for me?" he asks, amused at your expression.

"Yes, but it doesn't look that good because I had to make it quickly." You then reveal a handmade prince crown.

Xavier's eyes widen "When did you -?"

"I guess you forgot to clean up the living room after making mine, so I just scrambled something while you were showering."

Left speechless at your sweet gesture, his eyes switch between gazing at you and the crown.

You feel a little embarrassed at your craftsmanship because it looks poorly made compared to the one he made for you. "Okay, you looked at it enough. I'll make you a better one later."

He chuckles as you place it on his head and sit on his lap. He kisses your hand and then your lips "Thank you, I love it."

After lighting the candles, you close your eyes and make a wish.

[endless-ineffabilities]

blue eyes so green (18+)

Ewan Mitchell x reader / Aemond Targaryen x reader

A oneshot where Ewan becomes cross with you for having a sensuous dream... about his character, Aemond.

a/n : yet another Ewan fic to ring in the season premiere! Expect a whole lot of Aemond fics while we're in the thick of the new season. Happy premiere day, my loves!

word count : 1k ▪︎ masterlist

The silver-haired Targaryen emerges from underneath your skirts, his deft fingers buried in the layers of cloth to keep them away from your prized cunny.

His curved lips are left puckered, parted and glistening from the sheen of your juices. He had practically lost his mind when you finally returned from your duties with the Septa, the hours far too long for him to be away from his lady-wife.

So, with only a few raspy words of desire -

You have kept me waiting

All day long I have longed for a taste of you, my wife.

I will make certain that you never wish to be parted from me again.

- he had lifted you atop the desk in his study, haphazardly shoving his heavy leather-bound volumes of histories and philosophies.

And in a haste, he delighted in a sweetness that can only ever be known to him. Just him, because you will only ever be his.

Your cunny is his. Your kisses all his own. Your heart, his possession.

And he is yours. All yours. He will never tire of making this known. "My love," his tone is desperate as he kisses you hungrily, the exquisite rarity of a prince begging, "I am yours to take for tonight, and every night, for as long as I am breathing."

"Oh, Aemond," you croon, tracing his features with your fingertips, "my sweet husband. Is that your fancy way of telling me that you wish to fuck me for eternity?"

He smiles against your skin. He has always loved the pert particularity of his wife's humour.

"Oh, my sweet sweet wife," his hands seek and they find the fastenings of your dress, the keys to his kingdom, "you know me so well."

And long into the night, you ride a dragon.

All throughout the morning, you can count on one hand the times your boyfriend actually spoke to you.

A few rushed, almost incoherent responses are all he seems capable of sharing.

And it is starting to bug you.

"Baby," you reach for Ewan's hand as the two of you peacefully have your Sunday breakfast.

He squeezes your hand in return, at least, but he doesn't fully meet your gaze.

You retract your hand, and for a split second, his hand scrambles to keep a hold of yours on instinct, but he lets it go with a sigh.

You try again, your tone now more demanding, "Alright, Ewan. Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wro - "

"Look at me."

He takes his sweet time in doing so, his blue eyes raking from his plate to the expanse of the dining table, to your arms and finally your face. He takes another deep breath, unfazed by the attitude you're showing him.

"Some dream you had last night, huh, babe?"

"Excuse me?"

"Oh yeah," he tilts his head, with the solemn confidence of someone who thinks he has the upper hand, "you just about woke me up with all your squirming and moaning."

"Oh." It dawns on you just what he is hinting at. Normally you would only recall some odd bits from your dreams, and sometimes they would even be gone from your mind as soon as you wake. But not the one you just had - no.

That one was just too good to forget.

"Baby, come on," a giggle escapes your lips, feeling less heavy now that you know what he is so worked up about.

"It's not funny," he pouts, fighting back a laugh as he can't help but mirror his beloved's glee. He dramatically pushes his plate away, but the annoyance isn't there. "You basically cheated on me," he pretends to complain.

"Do you even know who I dreamt about?" You amble over to where he sits, and his eager arms take you onto his lap. So much for being infuriated at you.

He doesn't answer, shaking his head as he absently caresses your hips.

"You," you clarify, and his eyes shoot up to meet yours, "well... you meaning Aemond. I had a dream about the one-eyed prince."

He shrugs, "I know."

"You... you know?" You try to stand up but his sturdy arms keep you firmly in place. "You know who I was dreaming about, and yet you sulk all morning?"

"So what? I can't deny that I'm still jealous. Aemond would be a pretty fierce competitor for your heart, darling."

"But he's you!" you squeal, lightly punching his chest. He takes your forearm and pulls you closer to press a soft kiss against your cheek.

"I know," he smiles. "I suppose I was just getting way into my thoughts."

"You think?"

"Hmm," he narrows his eyes, his features taking on that cheeky guise he expertly sports so often, "if you were to choose, between myself and Aemond - "

"Oh no," you laugh dryly, prying yourself from his arms and returning to your seat, "I am not playing this game."

"Who do you think would be a superior lover in bed?"

"Ewan - "

"Come on, darling," he prods lightheartedly. "Humour me."

"Well," you say, "why don't you hurry up and finish your breakfast so you can convince me to your side?"

His cheeky sneer disappears at your insinuation, in its place an indicative clenching of his jaw.

A moment passes. You take a delightful sip of your orange juice, satisfied.

Sure enough, you hear his chair scrape loudly as he stands and makes his way to you.

"Fuck breakfast," he rasps. "Time to make your dreams come true, darling."

[irisintheafterglow]

been having a very odd moment in my brain so take exes to lovers with prohero!shoto

"hi."

"what are you doing here?"

i'm still in love with you.

"i wanted to see how you were holding up." you're a different person compared to the last time he saw you. you from the past would smile at him, softly thanking him for his concern and inviting him inside with a hand on his shoulder. you in front of him, however, just laughs. it's humorless, pained even. you don't laugh the same as you did with him. "what is it?"

"nothing," you say with a shake of your head. "i appreciate you coming by, but i swear i'm fine." he catches the way your eyes space out, if only for a moment like your consciousness disappeared into a different plane of existence. "yeah, i'm fine," you reiterate when your senses come back and you move to close the door. he carefully but firmly stops you from shutting it and you narrow your eyes. "the fuck do you think you're doing?" you never swore when you were with him.

"i brought you food," shoto offers, pulling the plastic bag from behind him and watching patiently as you analyze him like you were assessing his threat level. what had your asshole of an ex done to you to make you so guarded? "it's your favorite," he adds when he interprets your silence as apprehension. without another word, you nod and open the door, no reassuring hand on his shoulder.

you quietly take the bag from him and set it on your kitchen counter, neatly arranging the to-go containers while shoto moves on pure muscle memory to where you keep your plates. he opens the cabinet to find it bare, along with the cabinets to the left and right of it. perhaps you'd rearranged the place with your new--no, old--partner. he doesn't notice the heavy silence until you clear your throat, swallowing thickly.

"i...i smashed all the dinnerware because i was angry...at him," you croak, your head hung in shame. he hums his understanding but his heart sinks into his stomach. a memory flickers to life in the back of his mind: you and shoto in the local pottery studio, painting strawberries and penguins on matching dinner sets. you beam at him and hold up your newest creation, a baby blue bowl decorated with red and white hearts. it's beautiful, love, he says and your grin grows wider. you tell him the colors of the hearts are to match his hair, and that the bowl would always be your favorite because it reminded you of him. i can't wait to eat soba from it, then, since the art will always remind me of the artist.

"there should be paper plates in the bag," he says gently, shutting the cabinet softly because he knows you don't like the sound of it slamming. "if there isn't, i don't mind eating straight from the container."

"thank you for coming over. it means a lot," you murmur with a container and a fork in your hands, bypassing your dining set and opting for the floor of your living room. he follows you, sitting a respectful distance away that violates every thought willing him to hold you close.

"has anyone else been by?"

"mina, momo, and jiro yesterday. midoriya and uraraka the day before that." you release a little puff of air through your nose, an indicator of sad amusement. "even bakugo stopped by with kirishima. that asshole must have known you were coming because he brought cold soba and i told him i don't eat it."

"what did he say?"

"he told me 'i know you don't, but he does.' weird, isn't it?" your eyes flicker from your food up to his own, watching him again. "did you tell bakugo that you were gonna come over?" he shakes his head, the honest answer. "we've been broken up for two years but people still predict how we operate."

"maybe they know something that we don't," he proposes and your expression hardens.

"don't say that. you can't say that."

"you told me relationships are built on trust," he reminds you. "i won't lie to you, even if we aren't together." your grip tightens around your fork and you forcefully set your container on the coffee table. he steadies his resolve, preparing his defenses so that when you lash out, he can take it in stride. you're in love with them, dumbass, bakugo said to him with a scowl during a night at a pros-only bar. they're in love with you, too, so get your heads out of your asses and get back together.

he's not prepared when tears start rolling down your face.

he reaches out on instinct and you dodge his hand, unsuccessfully wiping your eyes with the heel of your hand.

"the reason why we didn't work was because you were honest. you told me it wasn't the right time, that maybe we could try again in the future," your voice cracks and so does something in shoto's chest. "and then we didn't. you moved on, which forced me to move on too, and now you think you can just walk in here and expect me to open up?"

say it.

tell them.

tell them everything you never did. tell them everything you wanted to but couldn't find the words.

tell them you still love them.

"i want you to let me love you again." what?

"i don't understand." that's not what he meant to say...was it?

"i don't either," he whispers and you finally let him brush a tear from your cheek. his body gravitates toward you magnetically and, even after so long, your skin is a familiar sensation. "all i know is that i miss you, and i'm sorry." another round wells up in your eyes but you know it's not from anger; it's from longing.

"he didn't love me," you sniffled. the muscle in shoto's jaw clenches so tightly, he could chip a tooth. "he loved the idea of loving me, but he didn't love me. i hated who i was when i was with him. and," you pause to exhale shakily, "i miss who i was when i was with you."

"i miss who i was when i was with you, too." he offers you a sad smile and you laugh through your tears, a genuine laugh that he knows in his soul is real. "there you are."

"you still love me? even after two years?"

"it felt longer than that," he admits and you smile the kind of smile that you only have when you're with him. "i can't undo leaving, nor can i undo how he was with you...but i can promise i can bring you back to yourself again. because i love who you are when you're with me."

"are you asking me if you can try again?"

"i'm begging you to let me try again," he pleads, taking your hands in his. they're rough and calloused and familiar and safe. "please."

your eyes sparkle and you stand unexpectedly, moving to rummage around in the fridge and kitchen cabinets. when you get back, you're holding a bowl of what he can only assume is bakugo's cold soba. you place it in front of him and settle into his side, resting your head on his shoulder as you grab the tv remote. with a satisfied smile, he opens his chopsticks and looks down at the bowl.

baby blue with red and white hearts.

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! commissions and nsfw requests can be sent through my fiverr! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[mrsshabana]

𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞

ꔫ‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, age difference, angst, fluff, daddy issues, mommy issues, modern au ꔫ‧₊ Note 5k words. I want to thank everyone who was so excited for this fic, your kind words really encouraged me to write so much! I hope you enjoy it and keep an eye out for chapter two ♡ ✧:･ﾟ→ Part two ✧:･ﾟ→ Part three

This is the most exciting thing that’s happened in Gyutaro’s pathetic life since his sister was accepted into college. 

His life is nothing special really, and it never has been. Always taking care of his little sister was his number one priority so his needs and wants were always put on the back burner. Not like he had much of a choice anyway. With a face like that, how are you supposed to get anywhere in life? He’s thirty-five and has never had a romantic partner, but no surprise there. His personality is unpleasant and he doesn’t have much going for him. His job is alright and he can afford to support himself and his sister but that’s about it. 

By now he’s come to accept the fact that some things just aren’t in the cards for him. Things like a wife and maybe even kids. As he got older he found himself longing for these things more and more. Especially when he witnessed all of his friends getting married and starting families of their own. But now at his age, no woman would want to get with him, let alone start a family.

At first, he was mad at the world and everyone in it. It wasn’t fair that he was denied love just because he had a few spots on his face, crooked teeth, and was a bit rough around the edges. The jealousy and anger ate at him for many years, causing his personality to become bitter and cold. On the outside, he seems like the kind of guy who wouldn’t care about love, but it couldn’t be further from the truth. Since he grew up without receiving any love from his mother, it was always something that he craved, even as an adult.

But he grew up, and he had no choice but to realize this was his reality and there was no changing it. It was hard to accept, but he’s finally come to peace with it. At least he has Ume, and honestly, he’s grateful for that. 

But now, you came into his life and things are beginning to take an interesting turn. 

You’re Ume’s friend from college, she’s a year older than you but you got to know her well in one of your math classes. Ume hates math so she waited until her senior year to take it, which she is starting to regret now. The only upside to the situation is that she met you.

Having gotten pretty close to Ume over the course of the semester, she would often invite you over to her place. You’ve heard her talk about her brother before but you had never met him since he was usually at work when you came over. But when you saw him for the first time, he wasn’t what you had expected. He looked a lot different than the image you had in your mind and he was a lot less friendly than Ume had described him. But even though most of the time he was in a bad mood, he’d be polite to you for the brief moments he was around. 

The first thing you noticed about him was how tall he was and how deep and raspy his voice sounded. It was oddly attractive, especially when paired with his messy black hair. You knew he was older than Ume but he didn’t look that old. The only thing that maybe signified his age were the dark circles around his eyes, probably from being overworked. 

Gyutaro never expected to get close to his little sister’s best friend. It’s something he never would have considered, but your actions are causing him to rethink his stance on your almost nonexistent relationship.

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚.

One night you’re studying over at Ume’s place again. The two of you sit in the dining room, with notebooks, pens, and textbooks spread across the table. Midterms are coming up so you’re trying really hard to get some studying done. Even though Ume keeps getting distracted and scrolling through TikTok.

You’ve almost lost your sanity with this study session when you hear the front door unlocking. 

Gyutaro, looking as tired as usual, walks into the house. Kicking off his shoes and throwing his bag on the floor. He barely even acknowledges you as he walks past saying, “Girls, can you please clean the table.”

“Mm hm,” Ume hums as she continues looking at her phone screen. 

He knows she isn’t going to do as he asks, but he always asks anyway. Today has been a long day and Gyutaro just wishes he could go to sleep but he knows he has a household to take care of. So he hurriedly rushes over to the bathroom and takes a quick shower. Coming out with messy damp hair and a towel wrapped around his waist. He goes straight to his bedroom, but you manage to catch a glimpse of him through the hall. 

The way his long hair sticks to his muscled shoulders and back distracts you. And even after he’s gone from your sight, the heavenly image is still stuck in your mind. 

“Will I ever get a break?” he thinks to himself as he puts on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, “As soon as I’m done cooking I’m passing out.” It’s only 8 pm but after another overtime shift, he’s pooped. Ume’s lucky he loves her so much, or else he would just make her eat a Lean Cuisine for dinner.

He doesn’t even bother to brush his hair and just heads straight towards the kitchen. But on his way, he’s met with something that surprises him. 

“You actually cleaned the table?” he says in shock.

“No, she did,” Ume points to you without even looking up from her phone. 

Gyutaro scowls and hits Ume in the back of the head with a rolled-up newspaper, “What’s the matter with you? It’s rude to make your guest clean!”

“Hey!! Cut it out!! I didn’t tell her to, she did it on her own!” Ume whines.

“Still, you should have cleaned it yourself,” he grumbles and throws the newspaper to the side, “Y/N, I’m sorry. Please stay for dinner, that’s the least I could offer you for helping my sister since she’s too lazy to do anything on her own.”

“No no, it’s ok! I don’t want to put more work on your plate -”

“I insist,” he smiles and begins preparing the ingredients. 

Ume pays no attention to the matter, as you admire her brother while he works away in the kitchen. Grabbing a beer from the fridge, he takes a sip and sighs before he begins washing some vegetables. 

You sit there and stare at his muscles, admiring the way they move along with noticing the tattoo on his upper arm. The way his hair falls in his face, and he tries to push it away with his wrist while his hands hold ingredients. 

This is something you’ve never had before. A man who takes care of you. It’s something new for you, and quite frankly you’re a bit jealous of Ume. It must be nice to have someone who takes care of her like Gyutaro does. Especially since your father was never around, it feels comforting being in this kind of atmosphere with Gyutaro and his sister. 

The loud clattering of metal hitting the floor snaps you out of the trance you were in. It seems that Gyutaro dropped a knife because he had almost fallen asleep. You can see his eyes closing slowly as he shakes his head in an attempt to wake himself up. Even though you barely know him, the sight makes you feel bad for him. He must be so exhausted, yet he’s determined to make dinner for his little sister. 

“Hey, do you need any help?” you ask as you walk into the kitchen. 

“N-no, thank you though.” He tries to brush you off and continue cooking but you stop him, grabbing his wrist and taking the utensils out of his hand. “It’s ok really, you seem exhausted. Plus I like cooking so it’s no biggie!” You smile and try to lead him away from the kitchen.

“What? No! You’re our guest it’d be rud-”

“Onii-chan just let her do it! She’s offering, stop being so stubborn!” Ume chimes in.

“Don’t worry, I don’t think you’re a bad host. You’ve been nothing but welcoming to me, I just want to help out,” you lead him over to the couch and force him to sit down, “Everyone deserves a break once in a while.”

“But I-” his sentence trails off as he watches you walk away, not giving him any say in the matter. He feels incredibly guilty for letting you cook. But his body is too tired to fight it, and you no longer hear any complaints from him.

Looking around the kitchen you scan what Gyutaro had set up. There’s a pot of boiling water on the stove, a pan with oil in it, some half-cut tomatoes, a box of pasta, and an unopened package of meat. You can only assume that he was trying to make spaghetti. Luckily for you, it’s easy enough and something you’ve made countless times before. 

After about 30 minutes you have all of the food prepared. You make a plate for yourself, Ume, and Gyutaro. 

“Thanks, Y/N!” Ume exclaims as she finally puts down her phone and takes her plate. 

Next, you walk over to Gyutaro to give him his food, but he’s already passed out on the couch. The bottle of beer still in his hand, half full. 

“Poor thing,” you whisper to yourself, “Guess it’ll just be Ume and I for now.” You take the plate to the table and eat with Ume, opting that it’s probably best to let Gyutaro sleep. 

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚.

His stomach rumbles and his eyes are heavy as he slowly opens them, looking around at his surroundings. Confused for a moment as he forgot where he was. The living room is dark and quiet and he can’t quite remember why or how he fell asleep here. 

But then he looks over at the coffee table and remembers everything. His bottle is placed aptly beside a plate full of delicious looking pasta. Neatly wrapped in plastic wrap with a note reading, Enjoy! :)

“No way,” he mumbles as he tears off the plastic and begins to dig in. His eyes roll to the back of his head when the delicious food hits his tongue. Things taste so much better when someone else makes them. And honestly, he can’t recall how many years it’s been since someone has cooked him a meal. Five? Possibly ten? Either way, he savors the moment.

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚.

That meal has been on Gyutaro’s mind for days now. Never forgetting the taste and the gratifying feeling of eating a meal that was carefully prepared by someone else. It was amazing. And you’ve been on his mind ever since that night.

He told Ume to thank you since he didn’t have your number, and he really hopes she actually did it and didn’t just blow him off like she usually does.

As he drives home from work he can’t help but think of how nice it would be to come home to one of your home-cooked meals. It’s become a fantasy of his to imagine this on his drives home after a long shift. The thought brings him some comfort even though he knows it will never become a reality.

And just as he was driving through downtown he saw someone familiar. It was you, standing beneath one of the street lights as a strange man loomed over you. He appeared to be talking to you, but your body language looked as if you were very uncomfortable with the situation. 

The strange man appeared to be around Gyutaro’s age and all he could think was, “C’mon man, you’re too old to be doing this shit to a young girl. You should know better.” He rolls his eyes and pulls over next to the sidewalk. 

With a deep, tired sigh, he gets out of the car and yells, “Hey Y/N! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” 

At first, the sudden voice calling out to you startles you, but as soon as you see that it’s Ume’s brother you feel like you’ve been saved. The strange man looks over at Gyutaro too, giving him a confused look.

“We’re gonna be late for that movie,” Gyutaro smiles as if everything is normal and walks up to you, “Oh, who’s this? Do I know this guy?”

“Uh n-no, I don’t think you know him,” you say nervously. 

Gyutaro nods and takes your hand, “Sorry man, but we gotta go. We’re gonna miss the premier if we don’t get going now.” 

The stranger seems convinced and walks off as Gyutaro leads you back to his car. Opening the door for you, as he watches the man walk away. Making sure he’s gone for good. 

You don’t hesitate to get into his car, a huge wave of relief washing over you once you’re safely inside. 

As soon as Gyutaro gets into the car he scolds you, “What the hell were you doing out here by yourself?” His eyes scan your form, and he notices you’re wearing a short dress.

“I was out with some friends,” you say shyly, “and I wanted to go home, but everyone else wanted to stay out…” 

He sighs and starts the car, “You can’t walk around like that, creepy guys are gonna flock towards you. It’s dangerous.”

“I know, I was so stupid for doing that… B-but thank you so much for helping me, Gyutaro! You really saved me there,” you feel tears well up in your eyes as you imagine what might have happened to you if Gyutaro never showed up. 

“Hey hey, it’s alright,” his expression softens, “You’re ok now, that’s all that matters. And from now on if you need a ride just call me, ok?”

“R-really? I don’t want to inconvenience you or anything…”

“Don’t worry about it, you’re Ume’s friend. I’d do it for Ume so I’d do it for you too. Besides, I work around here so it’s no big deal,” he smiles and hands you his phone so you can put your number in.

“Thanks. Ume’s really lucky to have a big brother like you,” you say as you finish creating your contact in his phone.

“I try my best I guess, heh if only Ume heard you say that. Anyway, where do you live?”

“Oh, right! It’s super close to here,” you type the directions into his phone navigation, “I really owe you for this, Gyutaro! What can I do to make it up to you?”

“Wh-what? No no no, you don’t have to do anything,” he gets a bit flustered as he begins driving towards your place. 

“Come on! You did so much for me, it’s the least I could do! Ooh, how about I cook something for you?” You raise your eyebrows and smile, trying to convince him. 

When he hears your plea, it’s like his prayers were answered. 

“... well, I can’t say no to that.”

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚.

The long-awaited day has finally come. The day that you will bring over some home-cooked meals to Gyutaro’s house. He’s been anticipating this ever since you promised it to him.

You come over holding tons of containers of food, much more than he had expected. 

“Woah, let me help you,” he says as he holds the front door open and takes one of the bags out of your hand.

“Ah, thanks. I didn’t realize how much food I made until I had to pack it all up,” you laugh and walk into his home. Placing the food on the table, you neatly snack boxes of prepared meals. 

“What’s all this?” he asks, a bit confused. He was expecting you to bring over a big container full of food, not a bunch of small ones. 

“I know you work a lot and stuff. So, I thought it’d be better if I packed everything up into individual meals so you can just grab them and take them to work. Less prep work for you. I hope that’s alright…”

Gyutaro is truly left speechless, unable to believe that you not only put so much effort into this but also so much consideration as well. Still in disbelief, he takes one of the neatly packed boxes and opens it up. Inside he’s met with a delicious meal separated neatly, and even a small dessert tucked into the side. The sight is beautiful, but the smell is what really makes him salivate. 

“Wow,” he smiles, “I-I don’t know what to say. This is amazing, thank you.” 

He begins to choke up. After so many years of taking care of his sister, always worrying about her needs, caring for her, stepping up and being that guardian that she needed, never once did someone stop to ask him what he wanted. Let alone go out of their way to take care of him. And for once, just once, he gets a taste of what it feels like to be cared for. Nurtured. And it’s a feeling he wishes he never had to let go of.

All of the emotions he’s kept in for so long finally pour out of him. Your kindness and consideration force his walls to crumble. And his eyes begin to water as he pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes in an attempt to stop his tears. 

“Hey, are you alright?” You ask as you immediately notice that something isn’t right.

It takes him a moment to compose himself, “I-I’m ok,” he rasps, “Just… I really appreciate you doing this. It’s been so long since someone has done something for me…”

“Well, you deserve it,” you smile and try to comfort him by rubbing his back, “I can tell you work really hard. My mom is the same way. So I understand.”

“Thanks,” he smiles and quickly composes himself, “A-Anyway, I’m going to try one right now. It smells great.” He quickly tries to change the subject partially because he’s embarrassed, but also because he genuinely cannot wait to taste your cooking again.

The food still feels warm so he rushes into the kitchen to grab a fork, and he sits at the table and digs in. Immediately as the food hits his tongue he lets out a groan of satisfaction. 

“Mmph, ooh my god,” he says right before he shoves another spoonful into his mouth, “so good!”

“I’m glad you like it,” you smile and sit beside him at the table, “These recipes are super easy and budget-friendly, so I can give them to you if you want.”

“Please! Mmph, that’d be great,” he swallows another big bite, “Where’d you learn to cook so well?”

“I just learned over time. It’s always just been my mom and I, my dad was never around,” you sigh, “So I kinda had to learn how to take care of myself since my mom always had two jobs. I would always make food for us to ease her workload. And I’ve always enjoyed cooking so I never minded.”

“Wait, for real?” he looks surprised, “My mom was never around! Man, it fucking sucks doesn’t it?”

“So you understand how I feel!” you smile despite talking about something upsetting, “So, your dad was the one that raised you?”

“Basically,” he nods as he licks his fork clean, “My mom wouldn’t let my dad come around much, even though she wasn’t around much herself. I was pretty much on my own till my mom  died and my dad took us in.”

Watching him talk about his past, you get the impression that it’s something he doesn’t often talk about. His body language alone is enough to tell you that. But the two of you feel some type of connection having shared a similar childhood experience.

“Your dad sounds like a good man,” you smile, “I think he’d be very proud of you.”

He looks up at you, his eyes shining with a mixture of sadness and appreciation. “Thanks… he really was the best. But sometimes I just wish I could have had a normal family.”

“Yeah I totally get it,” you sigh, “That’s why I always told myself I’d try to give my future kid the best life I can.  I want to give them the childhood I never had…” You trail off, thinking about the future you hope will become a reality one day. 

“Exactly!” he shouts, “That’s exactly what I told myself too! I always wanted a family so I could do things right.”

He seems excited at first but his expression quickly shifts to one of sadness. 

“But it’s too late for me to have a family,” he continues, looking down as he opens up about one of his biggest failures, “Oh well, if Ume ever has kids I’ll just try to be the best uncle I can.”

“Why would you say it’s too late?” you tilt your head to the side, confused.”

“Y/N, I’m thirty-five years old. I’m too old to start a family… Besides most women my age are done having kids. Not that any woman would want to be with me anyways.” He frowns, being reminded of how he failed to fulfill one of the only dreams he’s ever had. 

“Why not just start a family with a young girl, like me?” You ask without completely realizing what you’re saying. 

“Wh-what?” his eyes widen, completely taken aback by your statement. Could you be insinuating what he thinks you’re insinuating? He’s not sure whether you’re just naive or completely delusional. 

“W-Well um,” you blush as you begin to realize what you’ve said, “I think you’re a really great guy. Any woman would be lucky to-”

“Get out,” he cuts you off. 

“I’m sorry-”

“GET OUT!” He raises his voice, striking fear into you to the point where you feel your eyes begin to water. 

You feel utterly embarrassed and ashamed. Just when you were starting to get close to him too, you had to say something stupid to ruin it all. Honestly, you have no idea what you were thinking. You will admit you did have a crush on him, so maybe your heart just got excited and took a risky leap of faith. But unfortunately for you, it backfired. 

Without another word you rush out of his house as fast as you can, balling your eyes out. 

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚. 

It’s been a few days, and Gyutaro has been ignoring your texts. They stopped coming after that first day, and even though he didn’t respond he still read them. Reading your apologies over and over. He couldn’t get the situation out of his head no matter how hard he tried. So he decided maybe he needed an outside opinion. 

He finds himself sitting at a bar, drinking a beer. Rubbing his rough hand across the stubble that’s grown on his face as he’s been too stressed lately to bother shaving. Honestly, he looks pretty rough. He’s caught up in his self-sabotaging thoughts when he hears a familiar voice call out to him.

“Gyutaro! How’ve you been, man?”

He turns around with a smile on his face, “Hey Kai, what’s up?” He stands and gives his best friend a side hug. 

“Gyutarooooo, do I get a hug too?” an annoying voice chimes, a voice that instantly gives Gyutaro a headache. This voice could only belong to one person. 

“I hope you don’t mind that I invited him too,” Kaigaku laughs nervously.

“Douma…” Gyutaro deadpans.

“What? Aren’t you happy to see me?” Douma smiles wide, giving Gyutaro a one-sided hug. “So, spill the details! Kai said you had some juicy gossip to talk about!” He says as he sits beside him at the bar, placing his hand under his chin and batting his long eyelashes. 

Kaigaku takes a seat on the other side of Gyutaro and mumbles, “Maybe this was a mistake.”

“It’s fine,” Gyutaro sighs and takes a drink from his bottle, “I really just wanted some advice. Just promise you won’t make it weird.”

“When do I ever make things weird?” Douma asks. 

Gyutaro just stares at him, thinking of all of the times he has indeed made things weird. 

“Come on man, just spit it out already!” Kaigaku nudges his shoulder. 

Gyutaro groans and slumps over in his seat, “Alright alright. So, there’s this girl-”

“A girl?!” Both of his friends say in unison. 

“Shut up!” Gyutaro growls, knowing exactly why his friends are so shocked. Because out of all of the years they’ve known him, he’s never once brought up a girl. 

“Anyway,” he continues, “There’s a girl I kind of like… she’s really sweet and we have a lot in common but…” he trails off, hesitant to tell them the truth, “She’s only twenty-one…”

Kaigaku chokes on his drink.

“I don’t see an issue,” Douma says, genuinely confused.

“Of course, you don’t,” Gyutaro mumbles under his breath. 

“How the hell did you get into this situation?” Kaigaku coughs.

“It wasn’t on purpose! I didn’t pursue her at all!” Gyutaro scowls, “Listen, she’s one of Ume’s friends. She comes over a lot and she’s been really nice to me. She even cooked a bunch of meals for me too…”

“And? Spill it, Shabana!” Douma pouts, getting impatient. 

“AND, we were talking about what we want for our future. I told her I wanted a family one day but I’m too old… and she said why don’t I have a family with a young girl like her. I immediately told her to leave. I’m starting to think maybe I overreacted…”

“Well, girls that age are very fertile!” Douma chimes as if his statement was completely innocent.

“STOP!” Gyutaro shouts, “That’s fucking weird, man! Don’t say it like that!” 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have invited him…” Kaigaku mumbles. 

“Hey, it’s true! I am a gynecologist after all, it’s just medical facts! And she’s right, having children with someone your age will be much more difficult and there could be complications!” Douma asserts confidently.

“The fact that you’re a gynecologist disturbs me,” Kaigaku says. 

“Me too,” Gyutaro adds. 

“Come on guys! It’s not as weird as you think. Why would it be so wrong to date her?”

“For starters, she’s fourteen fucking years younger than me! That’d be creepy right…? I don’t want people thinking I’m a weirdo or a creep,” he frowns, starting to feel like maybe he is a creep for even considering something with you. 

Kaigaku takes a sip of his drink, thinking long and hard about what advice he should give his friend. Especially since Douma is useless. 

“I mean, it’s not that bad,” he shrugs, “At the end of the day you’re both consenting adults. And since when did you care about what other people think of you anyway?”

“You have a point,” Gyutaro replies, “But she should live her life instead of wasting her time with an old guy like me.”

“First of all you aren’t even that old,” Kai rolls his eyes, “And second of all, she’s an adult who is fully capable of making her own decisions. If she wants to be with you, then she wants it for a reason. Maybe she wants a guy who is at a more stable point in his life. Who knows?”

“Exactly, Kai’s right. I see age gaps much larger than this all the time, it’s more common than you think,” Douma adds. 

“And besides, it would only be creepy if you were talking to her when she was a minor,” Kaigaku states, “Like if you’re an adult talking to a minor, then wait till they’re an adult to pursue them romantically it’s a little creepy if you ask me. But you didn’t even know her at all until now. So don’t worry man. You aren’t creepy or weird for liking this girl.”

Gyutaro feels a wave of relief wash over him as he listens to his friend’s explanation. It's the first thing he’s heard that actually made him feel a bit better about the situation. “So, you really think it’s ok for me to pursue her?”

“Hell yeah! Be happy, man. I know you’re not the kind of guy to go after a girl just because she’s young. She sounds like a really nice girl, and I’m happy someone finally sees what a great guy you are.”

“Thanks, Kai,” Gyutaro smiles, “Alright, I guess I’ll go for it.”

Gyutaro feels a newfound confidence overtake him. His friends are right, he shouldn’t be so caught up in the details when the fact of the matter is that a really amazing woman is interested in him for the first time in his life. And he cannot let this opportunity slide, as it may be the last chance he has at happiness. 

“Who knows, maybe she’s one of my patients!” Douma chimes in out of nowhere.

“Shut up, Douma! God, I can’t take you anywhere!” Kai growls. 

.˚₊┈୨♡୧┈₊˚.

That night you receive a text from Gyutaro, “Do you want to go to the botanical gardens with me this weekend?”

When you first read the text you had to pinch yourself in case you were dreaming. Why would he say that all of a sudden? Did he suddenly have a change of heart? Or maybe he’s inviting you out just so he can tell you off in person. 

You aren’t sure which one, but you’ve been so stressed over this situation that you’ll do anything to make up with him. So you hastily respond, “Yes! I’d love to :)”

Immediately you regret how eager you sound in the text, thinking that it might make Gyutaro think you're even more childish. But in reality it makes him smile knowing that someone is excited to see him for once.

“Ok. I’ll send you the details,” he responds a minute later.

Is this a date? That’s the only question that keeps replaying in your mind. A date with Gyutaro, your best friend’s older brother. The whole thing feels taboo, but you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t make you feel even more excited.

Taglist: @gyusimp @mistyychann @cherrysxuya @angelicsaiko @hoshigafuru @matsukaah @merryclaus @whisperhug97 @dawn-rays-dingo

(I tagged people who showed interest in my previous posts. If you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist just let me know. The next chapter will have smut so if you want to be tagged make sure you have your age listed on your blog ♡)

[allllium]

Secret

~ This took so much longer than I wanted it to, yay writers block right? 😭

~ Angst, Fluff at end, WC:2,737

~Remus is keeping a secret

Your boyfriend is cheating on you. That's the only explanation for the way he's acting. Every month he disappears, not just for an hour or two, but full days. Most of the time he disappears for about two to three days. And even if he doesn't disappear, he acts super weird around you.

You've tried to ask James and Sirius about it, but of course they never say anything. They are loyal to bone, which usually you respect but now it's just frustrating. You thought you were a part of the group, clearly you were wrong.

What are you supposed to do? You've already tried his friends, and spent months obsessing over behavior. Analyzing every little thing he does for you and other people, trying to find out who Remus would rather be with than you. You can't keep feeling like this.

You're in the library, trying and failing to focius on your book. Usually Remus would be here with you, but he's not. You haven't seen him since yesterday morning, when he all but pushed you out of his dorm room.

At first this whole thing was frustrating, and confusing, but now you feel rejected, a feeling your boyfriend should never give you. At first you raked your mind for any other reason why Remus would act like this. You went through things like illness, something about his friends, family maybe, you even thought it might have something to do with school work, but none of those explain why he's nowhere to be seen.

So now here you are. On the verge of tears while sitting in the library, wishing he would just come clean about what he's doing. At least then it would be easier to break up with him. But what can you do without proof, left with nothing but a bad feeling.

“What's wrong, sweetheart?” You are quickly pulled from your thoughts by James’s voice coming from behind you. He's always been incredibly sweet to you, mostly because he thought it would help convince Lily to go out with him, but you also know he's just a naturally good person.

“Fine, Jamie.” You give him the best smile you can muster, obviously he sees right through it. He slings his arm around your shoulder and plops down in the seat next to you.

“What's on your mind?” He seems genuinely concerned but you don't believe it. Real friends tell friends when they're being cheated on. You wish. In real life, however, they always stay loyal to whoever came first. You love that Remus has such great support when he needs it but what about you?

“It's nothing, doesn't matter.” You try your best to reassure him.

“No, something is clearly wrong. How can I help?”

“It's nothing, James, just drop it. Please.” He knows you're serious when you use his real name, usually resorting to some stupid nickname.

“Yeah, okay. If you need anything just let me know.” You only nod as he turns to leave. You take a big breath when you're alone again.

You're honestly trying not to panic. You love Remus, a lot. But you can't be with a cheater, you just can't. And if you break up with him then you lose all your friends, because of course, they were his friends first. Which means you have to start over, all alone. Yeah, no reason to panic.

Over the next few days you don't see Remus. Not because of him, this time it's you trying to disappear. This is what happens, he ignores you for a few days then comes back all clingy as if nothing happened. The first couple times you tried to ask about it but you never got a straight answer. He told you he was busy with his friends or with school, which was clearly a lie, so eventually you stopped asking.

You've had to change your daily routine a lot just to avoid him. Instead of going to his dorm for bed, you go to your own. You're not eating in the dining hall, because he would sit with you. You're sitting away from him in class and turning the other way when you see him in the halls. Apparently your avoidance has been so obvious, McGonagall stopped him after a class to ask what happened. You didn't stay long enough to overhear his answer.

“Oh, Angel!” You hear your boyfriend’s voice call for you in the hallway, you do nothing but walk faster, knowing you won't be able to keep it together long enough to face him right now. “I know you heard me.” His voice is much closer as he grabs your shoulder to stop you. He takes the books out of your hand and holds them behind his back.

“What do you want, Remus?” You ask him, not turning around.

“I want to know why my girlfriend has been ignoring me for days now?”

You no longer feel sad when you finally turn and look at him, the irony of his statement filling you with sudden frustration and anger, “Oh really? What about you Remus? You ignore me for days every month and I still don't have an answer for that!”

He stays silent, analyzing your expression before continuing, “It's different,” is all he says.

“How Remus? I would love for you to explain how exactly this is different.”

“It just is!”

“You know what, I don't even care. Come find me when you can explain, otherwise don't bother.” You feel like you're going to collapse as you walk away, leaving him in the hall, with your books in his hand.

You didn't think it would be this hard. Yet after a few more days have passed it seems Remus took the ‘don't bother’ part of your speech more seriously than any other.

You honestly thought he would at least try to give you any kind of explanation. Even if it is a lie.

James and Sirius haven't talked to you either. Remus obviously told them about what you said, they don't want to be friends with you if you aren't with Remus.

Over the last few days, you've spent a lot more time with Lily and the rest of the girls.

“So, you wanna tell me what happened?” Lily asks you. You're sitting with her in her dorm with Mary and Pandora.

“I don't know what to say.” You shrug. What are you supposed to say? You don't want to tell her Remus is probably cheating on you, on the very off chance he isn't. And you don't want to admit how much you miss being around him.

“What did you guys fight about?” Mary pipes up. At this point the whole school has noticed the behavior between the two of you. Everyone has been talking about it, spreading theories as to why such a happy couple has been acting like this.

“It wasn't a fight,” You begin to explain to the girls, “I told him unless he can tell me why he keeps disappearing I don't wanna talk to him.”

You don't miss the look Lily and Pandora exchange. Mary focuses her gaze onto the floor, none of them look at you as Pandora speaks up this time.

“I mean he probably has a good reason.” She tries to offer.

“And you all know, don't you?” Great, you're officially the only one who doesn't know this secret your boyfriend is keeping.

“It's not what you think.” Lily tells you softly.

“Then why won't he tell me?”

“I don't know,” Lily tells you again, “Maybe you should talk to him.”

“I tried that, but it didn't work.”

“Then don't ask him to talk, tell him you're not happy. I promise he's not trying to hurt you.”

“And how do you know? He apparently told everyone but me Lily, what am I supposed to think?”

No one responds.

“I don't know what to do.” Remus tells his friends, running his hands over his face in despair.

“Well, I vote you stop being a dumbass but we know that won't happen.” Sirius offers him. The four of them haven't left their dorm all day, trying to convince Remus he needs to be honest with you. Actually Peter and Sirius have been trying to convince him, James hasn't talked to him all day. He knows why you were upset in the library and isn't trying to hide his irritation, however, he doesn't want to say something to hurt Remus. So he stays quiet.

“I agree. What's the worst that can happen?” Peter shrugs, you'd think Remus would listen to him considering he's the one in the longest lasting relationship.

“Uh, she could leave me!” He practically shouts, rolling his eyes at the look shared between Sirius and Peter.

“Oh you mean like what she wants to do now?” Remus doesn't even notice who says it, too distracted by the ice running through his veins.

“You really think she'll want to break up over this?” His voice is barely a whisper, the slight heartbreak clear in his tone.

“This is one of the biggest parts of your life and you haven't told her. She knows you've been lying about it and you haven't talked to her once since she said “don't bother.” In my opinion all you're doing is showing her you don't care.” Peter tries his best to explain this gently to Remus. Not wanting to hurt him but knowing Remus won't actually understand till he knows how you feel about it.

“I need to tell her. I just- I don't want her to leave me because of it.”

James lets out an exasperated sigh at Remus's words. “She's not going to leave you for being a werewolf, she loves you just as much as you love her. If she breaks up with you it's because of how long you've kept this a secret.

Another week goes by with no word for Remus. You're started to give up hope that he'll even try to talk to you again. Unless to finally end this relationship. Thinking about either of these options hurt your heart, not wanting this to end or go on.

“It's not until you're leaving the dining hall after dinner that you're pulled into an empty classroom. You can tell by the touch on your wrist that it's him.

“What do you want, Remus?” You immediately ask. You try to keep your face as straight as possible, not wanting him to see how upset you really are.

“I need to explain.”

“Seriously? Now?”

“Can I please just tell you what's going on? You can yell or insult me all you want afterwards, I just need you to know.” He lets go of your wrist but refuses to look away from your face.

You give a small nod in agreement but it's all he needs to jump right into what he wants to say, you have the feeling this whole plan was practiced beforehand.

“I was not trying to hurt you. I love you a lot. More than I have ever loved anything before and I couldn't bear the thought of losing you because I'm not normal. I figured if there were something wrong with who I am, I can change, I can fix that but I can't fix something I have no control over and I felt like I would die if I lost you because of it.”

“Because of what?” Is all you ask.

He takes a deep breath before finally explaining, “I'm a werewolf.”

“Oh screw you.” You roll your eyes and quickly walk out of the classroom.

Remus doesn't follow you out. He stays standing in the empty room for a few minutes, confused about the interaction that just took place.

He comes to your shared class almost halfway through and doesn't look at you until it's over.

“Angel, please talk to me.” Remus begs, following out of the classroom. You shake your head and begin to speed up your walk. He grabs your wrist and pulls you into him, “Baby please.”

“What do you want, Remus? Here to lie to me more.” You turn around to confront him.

“I'm not lying about being a werewolf.” He defends, eyes widening in bewilderment.

“That's not what I'm mad about.” Your tone grows more angry as you talk. “We've been dating for how long now and you don't tell me your biggest secret? You've had me panicking every fucking month wondering where you where and who you were with. All because you what? Can't trust me with this big secret?”

Remus visible winces as your voice grows louder. “Please don't be so loud.”

“Oh yeah! Don't trust me not spill anything!”

“That's not what I meant, love. Can we just talk about this, somewhere private.”

“So what? So you can make up some lame excuses?” You turn again and try to leave.

“No angel, that's not why I didn't tell you.”

You pause. As much as you want to keep walking you love him. Deep inside you know exactly why he didn't tell you but you don't think you can bear to hear him say it. You know it's not because of you but you feel like you failed. You feel as if you failed to make him know just how much you love him, just how worth it he is. You want nothing more than for him to be happy and if he hasn't told you about his big secret clearly he's happy enough with you.

“It has nothing to do with you, I promise. I wanted to tell you so many times, so much more than you know but whenever I tried I couldn't. My mouth wouldn't open as much as I tried. I was terrified that you would leave, I know you never would, okay, I know. But the thought that you could stopped me, it stops me from doing many things.”

“Why?” You ask, tears arriving in your eye line.

“Because I can't live without you. I know how cheesy that sounds but it's true. All my life I've dealt with the consequences of being a werewolf even from people that don't know. You have helped me be myself more than anyone ever has and that's enough. I can't bear the thought of you leaving let alone the thought of knowing I pushed you away. Knowing this pushed you away and it wasn't something I could stop because if I could I would. I know it makes things harder for you. I hear how people talk about you because of my scars and how awkward I am and you don't deserve that, you've made me think that maybe I don't deserve it either. I can't lose you. I can't let this push you away because without you I go back to who I used to be. And now that you've shown me who I really am, I can't go back to being him.”

You listen to his words silently, trying your best not to let the tears fall. He doesn't deserve to feel this way and hearing him admit that makes you want to cry with happiness for him, for yourself in succeeding to make him feel as loved as he is. You want to tell him this but he continues.

“I love you, angel. And I'm so sorry I couldn't get myself to tell you before. I am so sorry I made you worry and made other people lie for me. I don't know what to say except for that. I don't know how I can make this better.”

“You already did, Rem.” This time you turn to face him, seeing the tears on his face break your heart even more. “I mean I can't really fault you for your mouth sabotaging you.”

A small smile blooms on his face. “How dare it.”

“I know what it's like to be that anxiety. I thought you were cheating on me.”

“I would never!” He looks genuinely offended at your words.

“I know baby, but there's still that fear.”

“I'm really sorry.” He pulls you in for a hug.

“I know, Rem. I wish I could've helped you more.”

“Dove, you've already done more than enough, I love you.”

“I love you too. But if I find out you're keeping something else I'll kill you as you sleep.”

You feel Remus grin into the crook of your neck.

[rafedaddy01]

Could I request a longer fic?

Rafe moving in next door to you with his family.

Y/n inviting him and his wife over for dinner with you and your husband.

Y/n following him into the bathroom and f ing him in there ,while they have to be quiet and quick

Welcome to the Neighborhood

Pt1 || Pt2

-

You were casually unloading groceries from your trunk when you saw the U-Haul truck across the street. It’s been a while since there’s been new neighbors and the kind hearted person you were just had to welcome them properly.

You finished bringing your groceries in and got to work on a pie, blueberry was your speciality. You knew that your new neighbors would love it, they always do.

You raised your fist and knocked three times and waited patiently with a smile on your face as you held up your dessert.

The door opened and you came face to face with the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. His smile was intoxicating, his eyes pulled you in like a siren, you got so lost in his beauty you forgot what you were there for.

You cleared your throat and shook certain images out of your mind before presenting your pie and smiling wider, “welcome to the neighborhood! I’m y/n, me and my husband live just across the street. I noticed you guys were moving in so I thought I’d give you a warm welcome” you handed the man your dessert and he warmly excepted it, his fingers brushing onto yours a little too long.

“Thank you, I’m rafe and this is my wife Olivia.” Rafe introduced himself before opening the door a little wider and down the hall came a beautiful woman. “Howdy, so nice of you to say hi” she beamed at you as she came and stood next to her husband.

“Of course. Well you guys have a great rest of your day, and enjoy the pie” you quickly said your goodbyes and rushed back over to your house. The way rafe was eyeing you made you feel things you’ve never felt with your own husband before. You needed to get away from him, but at the same time your body and mind craved to be anywhere near him.

The next day there’s a knock on your door. You open it to find Olivia standing with your dish sparkling clean. “Good morning! Just wanted to return your dish, thank you again for the delicious pie. It was splendid, you must give me the recipe” she flashed you her white as snow, perfectly straight teeth as she flipped her hair off her shoulder and laughed. You couldn’t help but feel jealous of her, but you didn’t even know why. You were happily married.

“I’m glad you like it. Would you like to come in?” You opened the door wider and she followed you inside.

“Please make yourself comfortable, I’ll make us something to drink” she sat on the island stool as you started making up some lemonade.

The two of talked for hours and you actually found out you have a lot more in common than you thought. Olivia was actually a nice person and you liked her. “Would you and rafe want to come over for dinner tonight? I’m making lasagna” you extended an invite and she happily accepted.

The four of you sat in your dining room, eating, talking and drinking wine. It was fun and you got to know Olivia and Rafe better. They moved down to Texas from North Carolina because of some sort of family business rafe was in and someone needed to manage the company in a different state. Olivia was an interior designer and she had her own online business. They seemed like a normal, decent couple, and your husband seemed to get along with rafe great. They talked about business, golf and whiskey. Those were three things your husband couldn’t shut up about.

As you listened in on Olivia telling some story about one of her clients you felt someone’s foot trailing up and down your leg, you knew it wasn’t your husband because he was sitting on your right side but the foot was on your left side. You looked up at rafe and he was acting as if nothing was going on. As if he wasn’t playing footsie with you while his wife and your husband were in the same room.

His foot went higher and higher, making it harder for you to focus. You wanted to push his leg away and jump from the table and ask him what the hell he’s thinking. But you found yourself sitting quietly and imaging things that you shouldn’t.

“Excuse me, I’m gonna go to the restroom” Rafe said as he pulled back from the table and disappeared down the hall.

“I should probably check on dessert, I’ll be right back” you pecked your husbands cheek before rushing towards the kitchen, only to be pulled into the hallways bathroom.

“What the hell!” You gasped as quietly as you could, “ I knew you’d follow me” he closed the gap between you two, lips connecting and tongues clashing. Rafe picked you up and sat you down on the counter as he stepped between your legs.

Truthfully you knew this was wrong and you should stop it, but your hands had a mind of their own as they reached down and started undoing his jeans. “If we’re gonna do this it has to be quick and quiet” you pulled down his jeans and boxers and lifted your dress before pushing your panties to the side and sliding onto his cock.

“Oh fuck-“ you threw your head back but before you could moan Rafes palm covered your mouth as his eyes seared into yours and his hips started moving. “Shhh, i know, fuck I know. It feels soo good. But we have to be quiet” he thrusted faster as your fingers wrapped around his neck and held on for stability.

“T-touch me, please” you whimper over his hand and rafe nodded before bringing his fingers down to your clit, applying pressure and working in circles as your juices leaked around his cock.

“Holy shit. You’re squeezing me so tight, I’m gonna-“ before rafe could finish his sentence you felt the warmth inside your belly and it triggered your own release as you bit down on your lip and tried to conceal your moans. This was the fastest you’ve ever came, usually your husband would have to do a bunch of foreplay to get you ready but all rafe had to do was look at you and you were drenched.

“Now that’s a proper welcome” Rafe grinned as he pulled out and cleaned himself up.

Taglist

@f4ll-for-you @rafeysworldim19 @baby19sthings @sevenwivesofrafecameron @rxfecameronsslut @findapenny @r1vrsefx @spencerreidsrealgf @rafescokenostril @thievin-stealing @rafemotherfuckingcameron @dilvcv @starkeysheart @wearemadeofstardust0 @theoraekenslover

[kakushino]

hello can i get a giyuu x reader angst , like where giyuu had an argument with the reader , but it turns out the reader is pregnant? you can add any other plot twist cus i love plot twists thank you !<3

Almost

Tomioka Giyuu x Fem! Reader

He had lost a lot of people in his life by his own making. He refused to lose you too.

Tags: pregnancy, arguments, blood mention, abortion mention (no actual abortion), hurt/comfort Word count: 2k

Masterlist

AN: Hope you enjoy it! I actually had a WIP of an argument + making up before, so I got to revisit it and add the pregnancy spice you asked for hehe~ Huge thanks to my dearest beta reader @glitchtricks94 for helping me clear it up (o゜▽゜)o☆ another huge thanks to @starrierknight for brainstorming with me

Giyuu’s injuries weren’t worse than normal, but that didn’t stop you from fretting over him – especially when he had a gash on his cheek, the same cheek you kissed a week ago when he was leaving for his mission. It made your chest feel tight to see his pretty face marred by demons. Your grandmother was surely rolling in her grave that such a classical beauty was hurt, the thought spurred you on to care for him.

No detail went unnoticed under your eye. He seemed tired, as usual, and a little stressed, as usual too - just a regular morning after slaying demons.

You sat him down at a western style dining table with a medical kit and supplies to clean the cuts with next to you. Your hands shook slightly when the damp cloth wiped away grime and blood, your lips pressed together when a fresh drop of blood oozed from the wound.

“You need to be more careful,” you murmured as you worked, the statement automatic, thoughtless.

Giyuu’s whole body stiffened. “Or what?”

You froze in place, your hand dipping the cloth in warm water. This was a new tone of his – a new way words could cut you if he wanted you to hurt: it was rough, serrated, mean. “What?”

He rolled his shoulders back a little, rearing for a fight. “You heard me the first time.”

You clenched your hand, leaving the rag in the water, and turned to fully face him. “Why are you so defensive? I meant no harm,” you replied, trying to calm the storm before it fully set in.

He stood abruptly, nearly knocking the chair he had sat in over. The look he shot you sent your heart galloping in your chest, from fear or indignation, you didn’t know. “You’ve done enough. Leave me be.”

Did he like you like this? Was the hurt in your eyes enough? That was – did he like the way it glinted, the way it caught the light? Hours upon hours spent on making your suffering pretty, and perhaps now it would pay off. He could cut you down into something pretty if he wanted to, and maybe you would let him.

Before he could walk away, before he could twist the rusty blade, you rose from your seat, “I have done nothing to warrant this tone with me, Tomioka Giyuu. Now tell me-“

"Stop bothering me," he cut you off, heading towards the door.

A violent whirlpool of emotion threatened to drown you, and for once, you let go. “You- you oaf! I can’t stand you being like this! What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong. Everything is perfect,” he snapped, voice like a viper and words just as stinging. “Or at least it would be if I didn’t have you nagging me every time. I’ve been through this enough to know what to do with myself. Unlike you who sits here all pretty and safe and fat, ready to wrap a bandage and call it a day.”

You flinched, for the first time in your husband’s presence, tears springing from your eyes, which you rapidly blinked away. What have I ever done to deserve this? You had waited on your hands and knees for this man every time he’d come home battered and bruised and broken and put him back together, without complaining, with love. This was what you got in return for your devotion? Pretty and useless. That’s what he basically called you.

Your throat tightened. You hardly had the energy to respond so you turned away and just… left. You couldn’t continue listening to Giyuu when he sounded so much like… like Shinazugawa. Whatever was bothering him best be left alone to cool off before you could talk about it.

You nodded to yourself as you packed an overnight bag. Some time apart would be good for you both. You knew he wouldn’t be sent out on a mission for a few days again, since he just returned from a longer stint, so you would come back tomorrow and try to resolve it then.

It was time for a check-up with a midwife anyway.

He had really said all that.

And you left.

Your eyes filled with tears, and you left, as you should. He had treated you like garbage.

There was no going back, no taking back his idiocy, no swallowing back his words.

‘Let's stop fighting’ was at the tip of his tongue. ‘Come here and let me hug you’ nearly spilled from his lips. ‘I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry’ choked him up as you walked away.

He knew you were right. You did nothing wrong.

He felt nothing.

He was worth nothing.

Giyuu picked up the shards of his heart up and finished cleaning up his wounds. A short bath later, he walked into the kitchen to find food already made for him, now long gone cold. It just reminded him how much he butchered his relationship by what – stress and tiredness? A demon taunting him right before its death? If so little shook him up, did he even deserve to be with you?

A sharp pain pierced his heart at the thought of leaving you. His selfishness truly knew no bounds, hurting you and putting you in danger for being a Hashira’s partner yet wanting you to remain by his side.

After eating his portion, he made tea and waited to see if you would join him. There was no movement in the house at all; were you in your shared bedroom, laying in bed as you were used to when upset? He would give you time to cool off, give himself time to breathe, and then he would approach you with a clearer head. He needed to apologize.

One hour. Two hours.

Had he angered you so much that you wouldn’t come out? Your spats had never lasted this long.

The tea had long grown cold, but Giyuu couldn’t bring himself to make more. There were no sounds coming from the house.

Were you even here?

The thought jolted him from his seat, quickly walking to your shared bedroom.

“Love?”

Nothing.

“I’m coming in.”

He somehow expected it, though he’d hoped against it. You weren’t there.

Already turning to check all other rooms, he called out your name. His pace was brisk, his throat starting to clog up with a familiar emotion. Claws of anxiety sunk into his stomach, his heart beat like a drum, his lungs struggled to take in air. You weren’t there.

Where were you?

He ran through the whole estate and back two times but came up with no clue as to where you were. Panic mounted, crawling up his spine like a spider he couldn’t shake away.

Giyuu slammed the gate of his home open, very nearly running into his elderly neighbour.

She was hardly phased, though confused by his frazzled visage. “Tomioka-san? What’s got you in such a hurry, young boy?”

“Have you seen my wife?!” he’d never been as rude as he was now, but you were gone so what was he supposed to do?

“Your wife? Oh, that’s right, I saw her. If I recall, she was on her visit… hmm, who was she going to visit?” his neighbour mused. Giyuu waited with all the patience Urokodaki beat into him, that was – quite impatiently. “Oh right! A midwife! I was very surprised when-“

He stopped listening, or rather, he stopped hearing anything going on around him. A midwife? A midwife was a profession with a very specific set of skills for a very specific group of people… Did that mean-?

“Isotani-san,” Giyuu interrupted, breathless, eyes wide with surprise. “Are you saying my wife is pregnant?”

She squinted at him, “You didn’t know?”

It felt as if lightning came from clear skies and struck him. Every nerve itched with some kind of energy telling him to move.

He later vaguely remembered asking his neighbour for the direction you left in, but at the time, he saw nothing, and felt everything all at once.

Were you going to… terminate it? Were you going to tell the midwife, and would she terminate it? Was the midwife going to terminate it and help you move on? Would you move on without him?

Thoughts racing, heart galloping, Giyuu felt feverish. He stumbled back, deaf to his neighbour’s concerned questions as he turned the way you had left just hours ago. One foot in front of the other, a step by step, getting faster with each meter he passed until he was running nearly as fast as Uzui, desperation spurring him on.

Kanzaburo flew overhead, and when he cleared the village bounds, he called out to get the crow to lead him to you.

Time was of the essence. He may have botched his life, but he was too selfish to let go of you. He wanted, no- needed to get you back. You were his love, his soul, his home. He wouldn’t be able to go on if you left.

He felt crazed, desperate, as he ran.

Giyuu would have been faster had he not have to follow Kanzaburo but he wouldn’t be able to find you alone. He felt as if he was racing against the time. Any minute now, you would be in a the midwife’s home, waiting for the release from his clutches; any second now, you would sever the only tactile link you had to him – your baby.

His baby.

He swore, his mind supplementing him with your argument. It had been all his fault, he’d just lashed out because of nothing, like a toddler throwing a tantrum. How childish he’d been – and he was supposed to be a father? No, he wanted to be a father. He’d fix himself and he’d support you and he’d even carry you your whole pregnancy, so you didn’t have to walk. He’d learn to cook more than the basics to feed you and your baby.

Please, let me be in time.

Then he saw you.

The whole world seemingly froze, grey and empty save for you.

You were a pearl amongst rocks, still as beautiful as the first day he saw you, as beautiful as you were on your wedding day.

Giyuu didn’t stop, even as you turned to him in surprise when he called your name. He didn’t stop until he had you in a soul-crushing hug, tight and near bruising – one he immediately eased up on, since he didn’t want to hurt you.

“Calm down, Giyuu! What’s going on?”

“D-don’t-“ he stumbled over his words, still frantic and breathing heavily, “don’t get rid of it!”

You were confused, “Get rid of what?”

His hands were heavy clutching onto your clothes, his frame nearly hanging onto you. “Our – our child,” he gasped out. “Isotani-san told me you were- she told me you were pregnant.” His words came out in a rush, eyes wide as he stared at you, his pupils darted all over your face for a sign of – of anything, be it forgiveness, anger, sadness, anything.

Looking at him in such a state, near quivering in his spot, you felt powerful. Giyuu was at your mercy for once. You could topple him as easily as a sandcastle, crush him under your boot and grind down to juice him of all that made him who he was. It made you realize you held just as much power over him as he did over you. Oddly, you felt reassured - of his love, of your love, of the relationship. 

Heart hammering in your chest, cheeks filling with warmth, the adoration you carried in your heart spilled over and pooled in your stomach. You hungered for more of this power, positively starved to sink your teeth into him and drain him.

But that could wait.

“I am indeed pregnant,” you confirmed, your hands resting on his arms, thumbs stroking soothing lines over his muscles. You paused, letting the seconds painfully stretch out, “I’m not terminating the pregnancy.”

His whole being sagged with relief. Giyuu fell to his knees in slow motion, his hands sliding down your yukata to rest over your hips, now clutching the fabric there with a weak grip. “Thank gods…” he rasped out, his breathing stuttered as if holding back sobs. “Please, love, let’s not- I apologize – I apologize for everything. I shouldn’t have lashed out. I was wrong…”

His impossibly blue eyes met yours, the surface glistening with unshed tears, his guilt bitter but his plea tasting sweet on your tongue. Saliva gathered in your mouth, wanting more.

Did that make you a bad person?

“You dismissed my concern,” you stated, fighting back any expression wanting to take over your face. “You said I nag you. You called me useless.” And pretty, your mind supplied. He’d also called you fat, so there was that. “I didn’t deserve that.”

Giyuu’s lips were downturned, “You didn’t. I was an oaf.” His admission did nothing to soothe the ache he’d given you. “I’m willing to take whatever punishment you deem worthy of my misdeeds.” He let go of your yukata, smoothing over the wrinkles he made. He didn’t know what to do with himself, trying not to fidget as you rolled his actions and words in your mind.

“There will be no punishment,” you told him. If possible, he became even more tense, the need for absolution great. Perhaps no punishment would be a punishment of itself. “But don’t think you’re entirely forgiven. I accept your apology; you however have to make up for it your own way.” You studied his earnest expression, brows slightly furrowed as he started thinking about ways to win you back. It shouldn’t be too hard. He did it once, he could do it again.

Giyuu slowly stood up, taking your hands in his. “I won’t disappoint you, love,” he said resolutely, kissing your fingertips softly. He adored you, with his whole heart, mind and body.

Everything would work out – just like the ice always melts and clouds disperse, a typhoon passes and the sea calms.

“If you pull this act again, I’m leaving.” You glared at him for a second to get your point across. Giyuu nodded and pulled you in for a sweet kiss.

He almost lost you and he wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

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