#fic: the nanny

[jjungkookislife]

The Nanny [Ch. 4]

pairing: lawyer!seokjin x nanny!f.reader

genre: established relationship, parents au, fluff, 18+

summary: Jin needs a nanny for his son, but when he hires you, he gets that and so much more.

wc: 7.9k

warnings: pet names (baby, love), implied smut, angst, miscommunication (this was the scene I was stuck on for years), self-doubt, make-up sex, unprotected sex, creampie

date: May 4, 2024

The holidays come and go in your new home, ecstatic to decorate with Dae and Jin. Your family and his get along so well, and everyone dotes over Dae-Hyun, who shies away from so much attention. 

With his birthday coming up soon, he’s due to enroll in pre-school and it leaves your heart feeling heavy. You weren’t ready to part with Dae just yet, your life had been nothing but him for almost 2 years, and the idea of sending him off, even if it was just half a day—left you sad. 

Seokjin was faring much better though, he was used to leaving Dae at home when he had to go to work, and even though it was rough, he was having to come to terms with the fact that he wouldn’t get updates as often from his new preschool teachers. However, Dae needed to socialize with his peers, make new friends, and learn in a school setting to prepare him for Kindergarten in the fall. Seokjin wasn’t looking forward to that either, the thought had anxiety brewing in his belly. 

“What if I homeschool him?” You asked as you stroked Dae’s hair while he slept between you and Seokjin. 

Seokjin sighed, shaking his head. “He needs to go to school, baby. We can’t be his only friends.”

“But he’s my little buddy,” you pout.

“We’ll meet his teacher tomorrow and see how it goes. Nothing is set in stone just yet but he should at least go to get acclimated before school starts in the fall. We won’t be there to hold his hand and guide him,” Seokjin reasons as he places his hand over yours. 

“I guess you’re right,” you acquiesce, biting your lip before you settle into bed. 

“It’s gonna suck,” Seokjin chuckles and your frown deepens. “But it’ll be good for him, I promise.”

“I trust you,” you say, muffling a yawn but Seokjin notices it. 

“Go to bed, baby. We'll handle this tomorrow,” you nod, yawning as you pull the covers over you, making sure Dae isn’t covered from the shoulders up. 

“Good night.”

“Good night.”

“I don’t like it,” is the first thing you say when you step into the large brick-stone building with Dae clutching your hand. Seokjin shakes his head, trying to hide a disbelieving smile. 

“It’s been two seconds,” he giggles as he places his large palm on your lower back. He grins when you reach the front desk and your heels click against the marble floor. Portraits litter the wall and a giant bouquet of fresh flowers sits on a table in the middle of the foyer. Chairs that must cost a fortune line the walls in the sitting area, and Dae clings to your side as a few adults walk from one end of the hall to the next. 

“It’s so big,” Dae whispers as he looks around. He squirms at your side and you hope he’ll be okay coming here in a few weeks without you. The thought sours your mood further. 

“Hello, I’m Kim Seokjin. We have an appointment to tour the grounds and meet my son’s new teacher,” Seokjin says to the secretary as you debate carrying Dae-Hyun and making a run for it. You take a step back and Seokjin turns to face you, raising a dark brow, jaw taut as he eyes you with a firm glance almost daring you to even try it. He lifts the car keys with one long finger and you huff. 

“Of course, Mr. Kim. Your family can have a seat, and I will page the teacher up front. It’ll just be a moment,” the secretary informs him and motions for the chairs lining the wall. Seokjin thanks her before he tilts his head in the direction of the chairs. 

Ruefully, you lead Dae to the chairs and pull him onto your lap. You squeeze him in a hug for a second as Seokjin sits beside you. 

“Baby,” he starts, sighing heavily before licking his lips. “It’s an excellent school with great reviews, and I did background checks on everyone. He’ll love it here.”

“I have to come here?” Dae asks his dad with wide eyes. 

“This is gonna be your school, buddy. We’re gonna meet your teacher in a second, okay?” Seokjin asks and Dae nods but looks at you for assurance. You plaster on a smile and thankfully don’t have to say anything as a woman walks up to the three of you, introducing herself as Mrs. Hart. 

Dae-Hyun shyly introduces himself, his manners overcoming his shyness, and you couldn’t be prouder. You set him on the floor before rising, linking your hand with Jin’s as you follow Mrs. Hart. 

The tour starts with a history of the school, but you don’t pay too much attention as you walk down the hall. You skimmed the brochure on your way here and stuffed it in the crease of your seat before getting out of the car. 

Dae-Hyun holds his father’s hand as he walks, marveling over the art that litters the walls on the way to the classroom. The four of you come to a stop at room A-1, and Mrs. Hart opens the door, allowing you inside before she follows. 

The classroom is rather large, with three tables separated by bookshelves stuffed with books, coloring boxes, and art supplies. On the opposite end of the room is a large rug, a few bean bags, and more shelves containing toys and books. There’s a play kitchen and a science center with a giant fish tank that immediately gets Dae’s attention.  

Mrs. Hart is happy to show him around the room while you stay back with your boyfriend. 

“What do you think?” Seokjin asks you in a soft tone, to not get the teacher’s attention. You take in the room, there is nothing too extravagant that stands out. It was a typical classroom, more modern than any you had ever taught in before but it was nice and it appeared clean. 

“Where are the kids?” You muse as you see the names of children written on the cubbies. 

“They’re out in the playground with my assistant, Miss Daisy. We can go out and meet them if you’d like?” Mrs. Hart chimes in and Dae-Hyun nods before asking his father if it’s okay. 

“Sure, Dae,” With Seokjin’s consent, the four of you go out the back door and down the steps that lead right to the playground. There are a lot of children running around but Miss Daisy is accompanied by two other assistants to watch the children as they run and climb on the playground. A few kids look over curiously and two come over to say hi. 

“Do you wanna play?” One of them asks and Dae looks at Seokjin, who nods. Dae smiles as he runs off with the kids and Mrs. Hart introduces the staff. 

“He seems like a wonderful child,” Miss Daisy comments as she sees Dae already laughing and playing with more children. 

“He’s a little shy but he seems to like the playground.” you keep a watchful eye on Dae-Hyun, never losing him in the array of children. 

“Is this his first time at school?” Miss Daisy asks and Seokjin nods. Mrs. Hart explains the transition process, going into great detail about their rules and policies and the assessments to see where he’s at. 

As much as you don’t like the thought of being away from Dae-Hyun, it eases your heart to see him having so much fun already. He pouts when it’s time to go back inside, talking your ear off as Seokjin handles the paperwork. 

“Can I come back soon?” Dae-Hyun asks you as Seokjin shakes Mrs. Hart’s hand once they’re done. 

“Of course,” Mrs. Hart smiles at Dae. She motions for him to join her, taking his hand and leading him to a cubbie. “This will be yours when you come back and see me. We’ll have your name right here and we’ll have all your stuff ready for you, Dae-Hyun. After your birthday, we’ll have you here with us!”

“Yay!” Dae-Hyun cheers before returning to Seokjin, who picks him up in his arms. He was getting a little too tall to keep doing so but Seokjin would carry his son until he couldn’t anymore. 

“We’ll see you in a few weeks,” Seokjin says as he starts to say his goodbye. 

“We look forward to it!” Mrs. Hart exclaims, clapping her hands together. 

“Bye!” Dae waves at his teacher, who waves back. Seokjin heads into the hallway as you take one last look around, maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. 

“We look forward to seeing you soon. You have such a lovely family, Mrs. Kim,” Mrs. Hart says with a wave. You thank her before following Seokjin, your heart fluttering in your chest. 

Mrs. Kim.

“What did you think?” Seokjin asks you that night when he gets into bed beside you. He’s already sleepy but still wants your opinion on the school. You couldn’t talk freely until Dae had gone to bed and showers were taken before bed.

“It’s a nice school,” you say. “I think Dae will like it. It’s just hard to let him go.”

“Trust me, I know. But it’ll get a little easier,” Seokjin assures you. After all, he is his son so of course, he’d know. You just weren’t used to leaving Dae, much less after moving in with them.

“It’ll take me a bit to get used to. What am I supposed to do while he’s gone? Mrs. Jenkins already does the cleaning and packs his lunch,” you frown.

“You could go to the spa, or maybe meet up with your friends,” Seokjin suggests as he wraps you in his arms. “You’ll have more time for yourself. I know you haven’t had much lately.”

“But I like caring for Dae. That’s why you hired me in the first place,” you look at him over your shoulder.

“And now things have changed, baby. You’re still just as important as you were, just with more free time. How about we open a joint account tomorrow so you have some more spending money?”

“Seokjin,” you sigh. “I don’t want more money.”

“Okay, a car?” Seokjin suggests and you huff. You know he’s just teasing you, you’d denied every attempt of him buying you a new car. Yours worked perfectly fine and it’s not like you did a lot of driving now that you lived with him. Seokjin preferred to drive and you loathed it, so it didn’t matter much to you.

“Don’t stress about it too much, baby. You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. I’m sure you’ll find ways to occupy yourself. Besides, we need to plan Dae’s party starting tomorrow, and if you want,” Seokjin grins mischievously. “We can work on making another baby.”

“That’s a big decision, baby. Are you sure?” you ask, sitting up to look at your boyfriend. He sits up as well, taking your hand in his.

“I’m sure, love. You’re the only one I’d even consider as the mother of my children. I don’t want anyone else,” he leans in, capturing your lips with his, guiding you to the bed where he kisses you until you’re crying out his name.

The next morning is filled with ruckus. You’ve got the kitchen island in disarray as you look over notebooks and business cards, a tablet opened to a party planner, a laptop displaying your idea outlines, and Dae-Hyun on your lap telling you about all the things he wants for his party this year. 

Mrs. Jenkins hovers nearby, knowing it’s no easy feat to plan a party, especially with a child on your lap. She offers to take Dae from you but your sweet boy will have none of it. 

“And a bounce house,” Dae-Hyun finishes as he places his head on your shoulder. “We need one of those.”

“So you want dinosaurs,” you pause as Dae roars with his arms high in the air, hopping off your lap to stomp around the kitchen. “And a dinosaur cake?” 

“Please,” Dae smiles as he gets back on your lap with your help. 

“Sure, baby,” you kiss his cheek as you show him a few pictures on the tablet, liking anything he shows excitement over. Seokjin has given you a budget with promises to help here and there but he knows you enjoy planning events and schedules, so this is your domain. 

Last year, Seokjin had thrown a small Paw Patrol party with cake and goodie bags before calling it a day. This time, there would be more children attending, including the ones Dae met at school. 

Dae-Hyun loses interest after a while and you continue to plan his party and take notes while Mrs. Jenkins gets Dae-Hyun his lunch. 

Slightly overwhelmed by all the options, you decide to bookmark your favorites before setting your tablet aside and having your lunch. Soon it’ll be time to put Dae down for a nap and Seokjin had promised to get off work after lunch. He should be home any moment now. 

Just as lunch is wrapping up, the front door opens and Seokjin sings, “I’m home!”

Dae-Hyun grins giddily as he dances in his chair when his father walks into the kitchen. Seokjin greets Dae then you with a kiss on the top of your head. 

“You’re home!” Dae claps in excitement and Seokjin nods. 

“I left early to see you,” he states as Mrs. Jenkins finishes washing the dishes. Seokjin allows her to end her day then if she’d like and she thanks him before rushing out the door with a see you later. 

Seokjin shoots you a confused look and you chuckle. “Dae’s been excited over his p-a-r-t-y.”

“Oh,” Seokjin laughs. “What’s the theme this year?”

“Dinosaurs!” Dae shouts as he roars, and Seokjin pretends to be terrified. 

“This little Dino needs a nap,” you state as you pick him up in your arms, and a pout forms on his lips. 

“But Daddy,” he cries softly. 

“I’ll be up in a second, bud. I’m just getting a drink,” Seokjin assures his son as you head up the stairs to Dae’s room. 

He yawns, rubbing his eyes as he goes to grab his pajamas, heading to his bathroom to change and potty before coming to his bedroom. 

“Daddy and I will be here when you wake up,” you say as you pat his bed. Dae nods as he steps closer to you, rubbing his eyes. 

“Nap time!” You sing as you scoop Dae up in your arms. He finally squeals, laughing as you press several kisses to his cheek. His mood lifted. 

“Mommy! Stop!” he squeals, kicking his little feet. You pause, eyes wide as your heart races. You weren’t a stranger to being called mom, mommy, or any variation of it in your field. After all, it was easy for kids to get confused and when they trusted you as much as their parents.

However, this was the first time Dae had called you mommy, and you weren’t sure how to feel. You simply smiled, kissing his head as you asked him what story he wanted you to read. Seokjin lingered by the doorway, a frown on his lips.

“And they lived happily ever after,” you read, closing the book shortly after only to see Dae-Hyun fast asleep clutching his teddy bear. You plant a kiss on his forehead and wish him sweet dreams.

Seokjin is waiting for you in the hallway, with the baby monitor in your hand as he motions for you to join him in his office.

When you enter the office, Seokjin is already in his chair, his face hidden in his large palms, and your heart immediately sinks to your stomach. You haven’t seen Seokjin this distraught since his failed blind dates set up by Namjoon.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” you ask, setting the baby monitor on the desk before going around to your boyfriend. He sighs heavily before raising his head.

“He called you mom,” he spits the word like it’s vile. 

“Jin, this happens often with children. I’ll talk to him when he wakes up,” you assure him, but Seokjin shakes his head.

“You’re not his mom and he’s calling you mom. This isn’t right,” Seokjin huffs, a hand carding through his hair. 

You step back.

“I may not be his mother, but I love him as if he were my own. Seokjin, what is going on?!” You can’t help but be hurt. Hadn’t he said he wanted a family with you? Shouldn’t this be a good thing? You weren’t trying to replace his mom, nor would you ever abandon Dae, so what was going on?

“I just don’t want Dae to get confused,” Seokjin says sharply.

“I thought you wanted us to be a family? Wouldn’t you want him to see me as a mother figure?”

“Baby-”

“No, you obviously don’t know what you want. You can’t tell me you want me to have your kids and then get all out of sorts when your son calls me Mommy. What is it you want? Because I can’t take your mixed signals, Jin! Either you want us to be a family or you don’t! I already said I’d talk to him, but what’s so wrong with him calling me his mom? I’ve been here for him for half his life now and I don’t plan on going anywhere! What’s wrong with you?” You can’t help but hiss, stepping out of his office.

“Baby!” Jin calls after you, but you ignore him, heading to Dae’s room to cuddle him. He may not be your biological child, but that didn’t mean you loved him any less. 

It’s awkward.

It’s been two days since your discussion with Seokjin. Your feelings are still hurt by his harsh words and tone. You’d tried your best to be normal around Dae, but you could tell he was noting the tense atmosphere.

You’d taken to sleeping with Dae or in the guest room, something Seokjin had protested the first night, but let it go when you glared at him. 

Seokjin felt bad, and he apologized when Dae had gone to bed that night, but you couldn’t forgive him just yet. He’d hurt you and you needed some space. You tried your best to plan Dae-Hyun’s birthday party, spending your days planning and calling businesses to book them for the day of his party.

“We’re going to my mom’s for a bit,” Seokjin announces when he walks into the kitchen with Dae-Hyun in his arms. For a few seconds, Dae wiggles in his father’s arms before Seokjin sets him down. His son doesn’t hesitate to run to you, your arms open and ready to welcome him in. 

“Come here, baby.” You press a kiss on his head. “Are you gonna have fun tonight?”

“Can you come too?” Dae asks as he hugs you close. 

“Not this time, buddy. I got secret birthday stuff to do,” you whisper, kissing his cheek as he giggles. 

“It’s almost my birthday, right? We’re having a party!” He exclaims as he runs back to Seokjin. He takes his dad’s hand, waving as he talks about his party and the cake.

Seokjin gives you one last look before he heads out of the kitchen with his son. You watch them go, sighing as you shake your head in a poor attempt to clear it.

Papers lay scattered on the kitchen island, most of them were the final decisions for the party. You’d chosen invitations with Dae, showing them to Seokjin for approval, but he had said he’d love whatever you chose for the party.

The little T-Rex on the sample invitation stared back at you, Five-a-Saurus. 

Cute.

Sighing, you hope you can have a serious discussion with Seokjin to find out where you both stand. You had honestly believed you were heading toward marriage and what about all that talk about being a family and expanding it? How would that work if he didn’t want Dae to see you as his mom? Had you done something to make him think you weren’t up to par? 

You needed to get this cleared up as soon as possible.

Seokjin’s been at his parent's home for an hour now, making small talk and whatnot until his father takes Dae to the backyard to play. Seokjin waits until his son is completely distracted before turning to his mother. 

“I don’t know what to do, Mom,” Seokjin sighs, his chin resting in the palm of his hand as he watches his son through the glass door playing with his dad. He had explained the entire conversation with his mother over text this morning, nearly in tears as he asked to come over to see her.

“You can’t let one bad experience haunt you for the rest of your life, Jin. So what if Lena didn’t want to be a mom? It’s her loss. She can’t keep you from loving someone else. Has Y/n ever given you a reason not to trust her?” Seokjin’s mom asks. 

“Well… no?”

“She loves you and Dae so much. Anyone could see that. She loves both of you so much, and that’s all I could ever ask for. It broke my heart when Lena walked out. She left Dae without a mother and then Y/n walked into your life like a breath of fresh air. There’s no doubt about it, son, she’s in it for the long haul. She treats Dae like her own, and she loves you immensely. Even I can see that,” she chuckles, placing her hand over her son’s. 

“I fucked up, didn’t I?” Seokjin asks, feeling remorseful.

“Language!” His mother exclaims but nods. “You fucked up.”

Seokjin knows it must be true. This is the first time he’s ever heard his mother cuss, so he knows he totally fucked up, and now he’s got to fix it. 

“Can you keep Dae for tonight? I’ve got a lot of groveling to do.” Seokjin rises from his stool, the stool screeches against the floor. 

“Sure, call when you can,” his mother calls after him as he rushes out to the backyard, kissing his son’s forehead and promising to get him in the morning. 

Dae is ecstatic to be spending the night with his grandma and grandpa, knowing he’s in for a day of being spoiled and maybe ice cream for dinner.   

“Baby, I’m home!” Seokjin calls as he shuts the door after him, careful with the bouquet he had picked up on his way home.

“In the kitchen!” you call back, sending the last email you needed for Dae’s party. Dates were confirmed with the bakery, the party supply store, and the caterer. You felt lighter now that most of the party is taken care of and despite your fight with Seokjin, you’re hoping he’ll like everything you’ve picked out for Dae.

Seokjin is timid as he steps into the kitchen. You glance up from your laptop, raising a brow when you see the bouquet in his hands.

“What’s up?” you ask cautiously.

Seokjin bites his lips. “I wanted to apologize for how I reacted the other day and for what I said. I was out of line, and you’re right, I was sending mixed signals.”

You remain silent, shutting your laptop to give your boyfriend your undivided attention. 

“The truth is, I got scared.” Seokjin pauses, licking his lips as he crosses the room. He lays the flowers on the kitchen island. “Dae’s never called anyone mommy, and I got scared you’d leave like she did.”

“Seokjin,” you start, but he stops you. He shakes his hair out of his eyes as he inhales deeply. You rise from your seat, going around the island to take his face in your hands, his eyes locked on yours.

“I’m not her, Seokjin. I love you and I love Dae. I’m here to stay, but I need you to be in this with me. You and Dae can decide what he calls me. He can call me mom or he can call me by my name. I love him as my own and I want to give him siblings someday, but I need you to be sure of what you want, Seokjin. I know I’m not Dae’s mom, I know. I’m here to be your partner, to be there for Dae, and to build a life with you if you’ll have me. But we need to be on the same page, Jin.” you say as you stroke his cheeks.

Seokjin nods, a hard feat when you’re cradling his face in your hands. “I’ll talk to him, baby. I’ll do what he says and I am sorry for what I said and for the way I reacted. I do want us to be a family and you’ve done nothing but love us from the get-go. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Jin.”

Seokjin hadn’t taken your fight lightly. That same day, he had scheduled an appointment with a therapist to work through his issues. He didn’t want to start a marriage (in the future) with doubts and insecurities hanging over his head.

He’d allowed Dae to stay the night at his parent’s house while the two of you went over his birthday party timeline. You were excited to show off everything, giggling when Seokjin would say he liked what you picked out.

That night, Seokjin takes you out to dinner, apologizing again as he holds your hand in his. He delicately strokes your ring finger, imagining what it would be like with an engagement ring. He flushes. He truly was lucky to have you in his life, and he wouldn’t let this relationship fizzle because of him.

“Tomorrow we’ll pick up Dae and ask what he wants to call you,” Seokjin whispers as he leads you to your bedroom, his hand in yours as he loosens his tie.

“I think that’s a great idea,” you agree as you take your earrings off and place them on the dresser along with your pearl necklace. 

Seokjin approaches you, looking at your reflection in the mirror as his arms wind around your waist. His lips press a kiss on your shoulder and you move your hair out of the way to allow him more room. 

“I love you,” he murmurs against your soft skin. His large hands grip your hips and squeeze. “You’re the best thing to ever happen to us. You know that, right?”

You smile. “You know I feel the same way, right?”

Slowly, Seokjin kisses his way to your neck. His hands move over your body to your zipper, where he pulls it down enough for your dress to fall forward. He’s pleasantly surprised to see you’re not wearing a bra when he meets your eyes in the mirror.

“Oh?” he raises a brow as his fingertips brush your skin. 

“Figured there would be make-up sex,” you shrug with a smirk as you turn to face him. Seokjin wastes no time in kissing you, his hands cradling your face as your fingers work on taking his tie off and unbuttoning his shirt.

Fiery kisses meet your neck as his hands grip the back of your thighs to lift you onto the dresser. Your fingers run through his hair, tugging on it to pull him into a kiss that leaves you vibrating. His tongue pushes past the seam of your lips and you moan softly against him.

You want to savor him, take things slowly but you’re also in need of a rough, quick fuck that makes your eyes roll back. 

Panting, Seokjin presses his forehead to yours, almost as if reading your mind when you get off the dresser.

Turning you quickly, your palms grip the edge of the dresser as Seokjin hikes your dress up to bunch at your hips. With a lightning-like quickness, Seokjin is undressed and the head of his cock is pressed to your wet folds.

“Oh, fuck,” he curses. Seokjin’s forehead rests on your shoulder. Your eyes meet his in the mirror and he stares intently at you for a moment before he turns your head and his lips capture yours in a deep kiss that leaves you breathless when it ends. 

Seokjin grips your hips, moaning into your skin as you tighten around him, his hand between your thighs rubbing your clit. 

You tremble beneath him, his name escaping you repeatedly until you’re falling apart for him. 

“That’s it, baby. Come all over my cock,” he grunts, moaning your name as he cums right after you. 

“Fuck,” you groan as you try to hold yourself up on shaky hands. Seokjin chuckles, kissing your shoulder before he pulls out. 

“I love you,” he states as he looks at your reflection in the mirror. You lace your fingers with him, squeezing them. “I love you too.”

You were running around the house like a chicken with its head cut off, a weird expression but it seemed to fit the mood. 

Dae-Hyun was at his grandparents' home. He had spent the night so he wouldn’t see the preparations for his birthday party in a few short hours.  

Seokjin had a therapy appointment in the morning but he would be back in plenty of time to help set up and welcome the caterer and decorator. You were handling the cake delivery, moving everything in the fridge to make room for the three-layer cake you had ordered. 

You hadn’t slept much last night, too stressed about everything going right today. You wanted everything to be perfect for Dae-Hyun. 

“Baby, I’m home!” Seokjin calls as he shuts the front door and you inform him you’re in the kitchen. 

He appears moments later with a grin and a large bouquet. “I knew you’d be freaking out over the party so I got you these.”

Your heart melts, thanking him with a kiss on his cheek. 

“Thank you, babe. It’s my first party for Dae and I need everything to be perfect for him,” you pout. 

“It will be. Relax,” Jin chuckles. “Just let me know what you need me to do.”

“Have a look at the cake,” You tell him as you grab a vase and fill it with water for your flowers. Seokjin does as he’s told, grinning when he sees the dinosaur cake sitting on a shelf. 

“Oh, he’s gonna love it! Hell, I love it! That’s the coolest birthday cake I’ve ever seen!” Seokjin is smiling from ear to ear. He knew you’d throw an amazing party for Dae and he hopes as the day goes on, you’ll be able to enjoy it. 

“Guests will be here in three hours and Dae in one. Your mom will get him dressed and he’ll have time on the bounce house before everyone shows up,” you inform Seokjin. 

“Awesome,” Seokjin nods. The doorbell rings and the decorator shows up with her team. They get to work and in less than two hours, your home is decorated to the brim, the main focus being the backyard and kitchen. 

The caterer shows up shortly after and Seokjin finishes preparing the last of the goody bags. 

Dae-Hyun comes running straight to your arms and you cover his eyes with a laugh. 

“You little Rugrat,” you scolded playfully. “You weren’t supposed to come in here yet.”

“He’s a quick one,” Mrs. Kim chuckles as she enters the kitchen with her husband. A gift bag is looped on her wrist and she sets it on the gift table at the opposite end of the kitchen. 

“I wanna see,” Dae whines and you exchange a look with Seokjin as you both head out into the backyard. Excitement fills your body as you count down from three and move your hand off Dae’s eyes. 

“Wow!” Dae is in awe as he looks around the backyard. There’s a giant bounce house and decorations all around. There’s an area where the kids can dig for “fossils” and another where they can learn about dinosaurs and make their dinosaur masks. And of course, Dae’s playground where kids can run around all day. 

Dae grabs your hand, pulling you to the bounce house. Seokjin follows the two of you, laughing when Dae urges you into the bounce house with him. You hold his hand and jump with him for a bit. 

“Mom!” He squeals and you grin. After your talk with Seokjin. The two of you had sat down with Dae-Hyun and allowed him to choose what he’d call you. Dae had immediately wanted to call you mom, and that was that. Seokjin was grateful he hadn’t ruined your relationship with his panicked outburst and he was working on his issues with his therapist. He was doing well and he knew someday he’d want you to be his wife. To spend the rest of your lives together. 

“Come on, Dae, Mommy has to go change!” Seokjin exclaims and Dae pouts. 

“Do you want Daddy in here while I change?” You ask Dae as you stop jumping. Dae nods and Seokjin looks at the bounce house entrance. 

“Babe, I don’t think my shoulders will make it through,” he states with worry.

You cackle, dropping to your knees to open the entrance a little more for your boyfriend’s wide-ass shoulders. He thanks you as he slithers in with a grunt from the struggle. 

“I don’t think this was made for adults,” he comments as he tries to stand and ends up falling and bouncing Dae in the process. You shake your head, scooping up Dae-Hyun. 

“You watch out for Daddy, okay?” You press a kiss on Dae’s forehead before heading out. Dae stomps to his father, who is struggling to stand before giving up and sitting in the middle while Dae hops from one end to the other, his laughter filling the bounce house.  

By the time the party is in full swing, you’re busy playing host while Seokjin tries to get you to enjoy yourself. His parents have taken the time to help out and yours have arrived shortly after. They both dote on Dae-Hyun, and he hugs them tightly before he runs off with children from his preschool. 

You’ve met a few of the parents, speaking more to the ones whose children have taken an interest in Dae. A few of the mothers eye Seokjin longer than necessary and you bite back your jealousy knowing he’s yours. Nobody would take your little family away from you. You wouldn’t allow it and neither would Seokjin.  

When it’s time to cut the cake, Dae-Hyun is speechless as he sees Seokjin carefully carrying it outside to the table. Dae stares at it with huge eyes, fingertip gently touching one of the dinosaurs. He claps his hands when Seokjin lights the candles and you make sure none of the kids are close enough to ruin your son’s moment. You guard him, and Seokjin bites back a smile as he stands beside you. Mrs. Kim is taking picture after picture while her husband films on his phone. 

“Make a wish,” you whisper to Dae, who closes his eyes and makes his wish before blowing out the candles. Cheers and applause fill the backyard as Seokjin cuts the cake, handing the first slice to his son before the caterer whisks the cake back into the kitchen to cut it and her staff serve it to the guests. 

Dae-Hyun takes off running with his friends after he’s had cake and you're wary as he enters the bounce house. 

“That seems like a bad idea,” you whisper. Seokjin agrees as he scoops his son out of the bounce house with his friends. They protest but are soon occupied with Mr. Kim in a T-Rex inflatable costume as he chases the kids around the yard. 

You laugh as you watch from the sidelines with Seokjin at your side, his hand on your lower back. He kisses the top of your head, “Thank you for doing this. It’s the most I’ve seen him smile.”

“I’ve got bigger plans for next year,” you admit with a shy smile. Seokjin shakes his head, smiling. “I knew you would. Care to share?”

“Nope,” you stick your tongue out at him and he rolls his eyes playfully. 

“Ever the tease,” he snickers, kissing your cheek. 

“I think it’s time we handed out the goody bags and sent everyone home,” you state as the kids start falling asleep on their parents' lap after a while. 

“I think you’re right, baby,” Seokjin agrees as he steps away to thank everyone for coming. A lot of the parents are grateful, taking their children who are worn out from all the fun and sugar to go straight to bed. 

Your parents and Seokjin’s are the last to leave, offering to help clean up but you’ve got a cleaning service stopping by tomorrow to take care of it. Dae comes straight to you, his head on your shoulder and his eyes barely open. 

Seokjin kisses his cheek, smiling when he wipes some frosting off his son’s face. “Well, he’ll be sleeping through the night.”

“Definitely,” you agree as you take him upstairs to bed. You change him into his pajamas, promising to open his presents in the morning when he’s more alert. He dozed off within minutes and soon you’re back downstairs with Seokjin. 

“Is he asleep?” He asks as he places the leftover food in the fridge. He had encouraged the guests to take home plates of food and cake but there was still a bit left over. 

“Passed out. He ran around a lot today. He can use the bounce house tomorrow for a bit before they come to pick it up,” you inform Seokjin.  

“He loves that thing. Me? Not so much,” Seokjin grimaces as he rubs his shoulder. 

You walk closer to him, your arms draped over his shoulders. “Does it hurt?”

“Nothing you can’t fix with those pretty lips of yours,” Seokjin teases. You smack his back lightly and his laughter fills the kitchen before he turns to face you. 

“Thank you for today. Dae-Hyun had the time of his life,” Seokjin says seriously. His hands grip your hips as he holds you close. 

“You don’t have to thank me, babe. I would have done it regardless. I love him,” You respond as you take his hands in yours. “I love you too.”

“Come on, let’s go to bed.” 

“But I’m not tired,” you protest. 

Seokjin smirks. “Neither am I.”

“Nope! I h-a-t-e it!” You cross your arms over your chest as the car stops. 

“Baby, come on,” Seokjin whines as he unclips his seatbelt. “He’s gonna know you’re nervous.”

You sigh, sucking it up as you get out of the car with a frown. You allow Seokjin to get Dae-Hyun out of the car, taking his hand to lead him into the school. 

You stomp your way up the front steps after them, not wanting to leave Dae-Hyun alone all day. 

“He’ll be fine,” Seokjin assures you as you walk down the hallway to room A-1. Dae is bouncing with excitement, eager to see his friends again after his party. 

Once you reach his classroom, Mrs. Hart welcomes you with a bright smile as she greets Dae. Shyly, Dae greets her before she walks him to one of the tables where his friends sit, all of them waving and greeting him cheerfully. They're having breakfast at the moment and you wish you could stay by his side all day. 

“Come on, love. We can’t stay,” Seokjin reads your mind and you sigh. You blink back the tears that burn at the corner of your eyes and wave gently at Dae. Seokjin is faring slightly better but he clears his throat and takes your hand in his before leaving at Mrs. Hart’s suggestion. 

“We’ll call if we need to,” she promises as she sends the two of you off. 

In the hallway you lose it, stopping near the entrance to cry. Seokjin holds you to his chest, rubbing your back. 

“It’s okay, baby. You can come get him at 2. He’s gonna be okay,” he assured you and you cry until you can’t anymore. Seokjin leads you to the car, grabbing some tissues from the glove box to dab at your eyes. You blow your nose and sanitize your hands after. 

“I miss him already,” You pout. 

“It gets easier,” Seokjin promises. “I miss him too but he can’t be isolated. Me, you, and Mrs. Jenkins can’t be the only ones he sees, baby. He needs his friends.”

“I know you’re right but that doesn’t change the fact that I miss my little buddy,” you sniffle as Seokjin pulls out of his parking spot. He’d taken the morning off for Dae’s first day of school but he’d be back in the office in an hour or so. 

“You know,” Seokjin muses as he drives further and further from the school. “I always thought when this day came, I’d be the one sobbing my eyes out.”

“Don’t make fun of me,” you whine pitifully and he smiles. 

“I’m not, baby. I just think it’s sweet you care so much about him,” he states as he brings your hand to his lips. “But no, you can’t take him out early on his first day.”

“How did you-?”

“I can read your thoughts, baby,” he laughs as he drives you home. You use the ride home to calm yourself but you’re frowning the moment you walk through the door and realize you’re on your own. 

“It’ll be okay. It’s just a change in routine,” Seokjin assures you before he’s heading out for the office. You sit on the couch after he leaves, turning the TV on and placing your phone on your lap.

You count the hours until you can pick Dae up.

“Mommy!” Dae squeals when he sees you at pick-up. You hug him tight as you take his backpack and carry him out of the classroom. 

“Did you have fun?” You ask as you take him to your car. Now that Dae was in school, Seokjin had suggested he get you a new car and the more you thought about it, the more you considered it. Besides, if Seokjin had plans of making you a (biological) mother, you’d need more space. Which was why you’d be going car shopping this weekend. 

“Luke and Max are my friends!” Dae exclaims as he tells you about his day while you situate him in his car seat. You place his backpack in the footwell and get in the driver's seat. You immediately lock the doors once you’re inside the car, looking in the rearview mirror before you pull out of your spot to head home. 

“And tomorrow we get to play outside!” Dae cheered.

“That sounds fun!” You exclaim as you turn into your neighborhood. “Do you want a snack when we get home?”

“I ate at school,” he assures you as he tells you what his snack was as you pull into the driveway. You listen intently, helping him out of his seat before grabbing his backpack and leading him inside the home. He greets Mrs. Jenkins, filling her in about his day at school. She listens intently, asking questions about all his friends while you sit on a stool and text Seokjin. 

[You]: got my little buddy back!

[Seokjin 🥵]: good! I’m wrapping things up here so I’ll be home soon. We can get dinner later

You agree before placing your phone down. Mrs. Jenkins ruffles Dae’s hair before he runs off to the living room to play. 

Mrs. Jenkins gives you a warm smile. “It gets easier.”

And it does get easier as the days turn into weeks and months. You still get sad when you drop him off and you’ve been picking up new hobbies now that you’ve got the time but none of them seem to stick. 

Pilates and yoga weren’t for you. You tried jogging, archery and badminton. Tennis, soccer, volleyball, and hockey. Jujitsu, Karate, and kickboxing, that one was Jin’s least favorite. He hated seeing you bruised after a few sessions. 

You then switched to knitting, embroidery, painting, and pottery but you quickly realized you weren’t good with your hands outside the bedroom. So you turned to baking and decorating but that proved to be a challenge and you soon ended up back on your tablet and TV, binge-watching every show you could find to keep yourself occupied. 

Seokjin tried his best to help find something you’d enjoy that wouldn’t put you in harm's way but everything seemed to be challenging and you quickly lost interest. 

“What about party planning?” Seokjin suggested one night while Dae was asleep on your chest. 

“Party planning?” You asked, puzzled. 

“Yeah,” Seokjin nodded. “You did a fantastic job with Dae’s. What if you did it part-time on the side? Start small with friends and family and build yourself up from there if you’d like.”

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “I wouldn’t have a lot of time for Dae.”

Seokjin blinks before laughing, stopping when his son stirs in your hold. 

“My parents' anniversary is coming up. I’m sure my mom would love some help,” Jin offers, and you give in. 

“I’ll give it a chance,” you agree hesitantly. 

And slowly you build your little business. It starts with a few parties, but soon word of mouth gets you booked and busy. You only work when Dae’s in school, and limit the amount of weekends you can attend the parties you plan to make sure they run smoothly. You’re not sure if it’s a career you want to do long term, but you enjoy it when Dae’s at school.

“We’re going away for the weekend,” Seokjin announces on a Friday evening. 

“Last minute?” You ask as you grab a duffel bag. Seokjin nods.

“I think we should go to the beach house. My parents have one nearby and Dae can stay with us or them if he chooses.”

“Hmmm?” You muse as you pack your bag. “Suspicious.”

Seokjin laughs. “How is that suspicious? You said you wanted to go back with Dae?”

“I do, but It’s out of nowhere,” you reply as you grab your toiletries.

“Work has been a bitch,” Seokjin admits. “I just want to relax at the beach with my girl and my son.”

“Fair enough,” you give in as you finish packing your bag. Seokjin has his ready to go along with Dae’s and he’s soon carrying them down the stairs and into the car. 

Your new car is a shiny black SUV with 3 rows of seats that you insisted were too many. Seokjin, however, had pulled you aside and promised to fill every single one with one of your babies. You bit your lip and met his smoldering gaze, thighs pressed together as heat flushed over your body. 

Seokjin smirked knowingly, licking his lips as he stepped away to talk to the salesman. And that had been that.

“Do we have everything?” You ask as you get into the passenger seat. Seokjin straps Dae into his car seat, nodding as he finishes and gets in the driver’s seat. 

“Yes, baby. I got the sunblock and all his toys and extra clothes, just in case. Anything else we can buy,” Jin assures you as he starts the car. “My parents left this morning so they’ll be there already.”

“Okay.” you yawn as you lean against the window. You try your best to stay awake, but soon you and Dae-Hyun are asleep.

<< previous // next >>

© jjungkookislife - I do not allow reposts or translations of my work on any platforms, this includes Youtube.

[mariasont]

Parent-Teacher Conference - A.H

a/n: inspired by the show the nanny! major lover of mr sheffield and fran fine

masterlist

₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x nanny!reader

summary: you are not happy with jack's teacher flirting with your boss

warnings: hotch staring at your ass!, jealous reader, flirty reader, would prob def get a complaint against her in the real world, but alas!

wc: 0.8k

I'm terribly sorry, but my cat died before I got here.

I actually was in a car wreck on the way. I know I look fine, but it was super traumatic.

Mr. Hotchner you look so good today! Me? Late! Never.

These were the series of apologies and excuses that you were rehearsing in your mind as you navigated your way through the school hallway. In your defense, your tardiness to the parent-teacher conference wasn't without reason. Jack's newfound rebellious phase had him ruining your pantyhose with deliberate runs. He found it hilarious. You found it anything but.

You mentally prepared for that all-too-familiar, intimidating glare from Mr. Hotchner, the kind that could make you feel like you were plummeting from a cliff. Not only were you running late, but you also anticipated a less-than-glowing report from Ms. Thompson about Jack's recent antics. And in the back of your mind, a nagging voice whispered that Mr. Hotchner would somehow find a way to blame you.

"Oh, Aaron, you're something else!" 

You stopped dead in your tracks, gaze locked on the scene unfolding before you. Ms. Thompson's voice took on a higher pitch, full of animation, her elbows subtly drawing her tits together, leaning into Mr. Hotchner's space with an ease that bordered on disrespectful. At least in your eyes.

Aaron? The casual use of Mr. Hotchner's first name sent your mood from sour to downright acrid. You strode into the classroom, inching your skirt higher and affixing a practiced, beaming smile to your face. It was all charm and no sincerity.

"So sorry I was late," you began, allowing a gentle sway in your step as you glided into the room, your heels clicking a measured tempo against the linoleum floor. You mustered all your willpower to not shoot daggers at the blonde headed teacher. "I didn't miss anything did I?"

As you stepped into view, both Ms. Thompson and Mr. Hotchner turned their eyes to you. Ms. Thompson's showed a flicker of surprise, while Mr. Hotchner's were like slits, scrutinizing. But even his discipline gaze dipped, albeit briefly, to the curve where your skirt ended. 

"Oh, I... I didn't realize you were married, Mr. Hotchner," she mumbled, her hands fumbling gracelessly with the papers on the desk, her lips pinched in a straight line.

You could nearly hear the thoughts churning in Mr. Hotchner's head as his lips parted to correct her. Hastily, you cut in, "An innocent mistake, I'm sure."

He raised an eyebrow, a wordless question hanging in the air. Ignoring it, you flashed a saccharine smile and took the seat by his side, linking your arm with his. His muscles tensed, a reaction that almost coaxed a giggle from you.

It was all too easy to get a rise out of him.

"My wife, the epitome of timeliness,"Mr. Hotchner states dryly, his grip of your arm tightening just a tad more than called for. 

To your astonishment, the remainder of the conference proceeded seamlessly from that point on. Ms. Thompson restrained herself, both in wardrobe and word, and unexpectedly showered Jack with praise.

Exiting the classroom alongside Mr. Hotchner, you noticed he paused just long enough to ensure Ms. Thompson was out of ear shot. That's when you felt the squeeze of his hand on your side, coming to rest on the curve of your lower back, the pressure didn't move even as you found yourselves alone in the hallway--and you were far from objecting.

"Really?"

Your shoulders rose and fell in a pretense of innocence, well aware that his perceptive eyes weren't fooled. You tilted into his shoulder, doing a mental victory dance when he made no move to distance himself.

"What?" you asked, clutching your purse tighter against your side as you paced forward. "I was just helping you out. She looked like she was about to jump your bones at any second."

Mr. Hotchner's face was unamused, per usual. "Your generosity knows no bounds."

"Right?" You were aware of his sarcasm, but that didn't deter you. Your shoulders bumped together as you made it to the exit. "Consider yourself lucky."

An eye roll was his immediate response, but you could almost sense the smile he was staunchly holding back. He would never admit it.

"Yes, how could I ever manage without you?"

He paused to open the door for you, following behind as you stepped outside. You squinted against the sun's harsh kiss before giving him a teasing wink over your shoulder. He looked really good in the sunlight. He could use more of it.

"You wouldn't."

You caught his eyes lingering not on your face, but lower--fixated on your skirt, more specifically your ass. You raised your brows in question. 

"I think you sat in something."

You let out a startled gasp, hands flying to the material of your skirt. It was your favorite. "What? Where?"

His hands found their way to your waist, gently pivoting you for a better view, while your eyes settled on the stretch of road before you. "Oh, nope, my mistake. Looking good."

Your laughter spilled out uncontrollably, realizing just what he was doing. Cheeky man. And completely out of character, but you liked it. "Mr. Hotchner!"

 "I take my role as husband very seriously."

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[sapphic-bats]

Warlock asks Nanny about it once.

She’s cutting apples for him, just the way he likes, and he’s gazing out of the window at the lush, green gardens that his mother so proudly upholds. Among the waxy leaves and spindly saplings, Brother Francis tends to the flora carefully, though Warlock’s quite sure he’s just taking certain leaves between his finger and his thumb, and studying them closely. But what did Warlock know about gardening?

He notices Nanny looking out those windows, too. Though she always gazes and stares with a deep intent, as if she only cares when she does, and it so happens that she never looks upon the garden empty.

What was that funny thing Nanny and Brother Francis had taught him? The thing that Nanny discouraged, to which Brother Francis promoted quite devoutly?

“Nanny, have you ever been married?”

Warlock knows what marriage is. After all, his parents are married, if you can call it that. They married, once, out of love. But it’s since faded. It’s more traditional, now. Out of convenience and a general apathy to trying again.

Nanny’s quick hand stills, blade edge flat against the cutting board. With her back turned to the young boy, he cannot make out her expression. He never can, what with her poised shades she wears pointedly upon her nose. But she speaks soon again.

“No,” she replies, simply.

Warlock considers this. “Do you ever want to be?”

Nanny, who had taken up the cutting again, pauses once more. She sets the knife against the board and tilts her chin towards Warlock. “Wherever have you learned such personal questions, dear?”

She’s not refusing to answer him. She never has. She just asks in true curiosity, and perhaps a slight avoidance. But Warlock’s eight, now, and he knows how to navigate her tricks.

“Where do you think?”

At that, she pauses, lips pursed with their consistent purple tint. The lipstick she wears, that faintly stains Warlock’s forehead when she kisses him goodnight and tucks him in after a bedtime story: often about a garden, or a bird that chirped too loudly, and was cast down to the ground by the other birds. One who became the kind bird of the grounds, and took in other reject birds that had fallen similarly.

She considers his answer a moment more, satisfied with the obvious influence she’s had on him. She turns back to the apple slices.

“Perhaps,” she answers.

There is quiet for a moment. He doesn’t mind, he’s grown up with Nanny at his side, and has become quite fond of the silence. It is where thoughts are made, she said once.

She finishes cutting the apples, and plates the sweet snack to serve to the boy. “What troubles you, dear? You seem awfully curious, all of the sudden.”

Not that she minds. Nanny never rejects curiosity.

“Nothing’s wrong, Nanny, it’s just—” he pauses, considers his next words and how to place them. “You look at Brother Francis a lot, and—”

Nanny interrupts him after an audible, suspicious gulp. “Who?”

He frowns, eyes boring into the back of her head. “You know Brother Francis.”

She seems quite comically nervous, like she’s pressed a wax-seal act over her true thoughts. “Oh, yes,” she decides, too much breath coming with her words. “The gardener.”

“You like him, Nanny.”

She turns, abruptly. “I most certainly do not!” Her voice comes out a tad shrill, though perhaps it’s just outrage and scandal.

Warlock narrows his eyes, perplexed. “But you look at him all of the time.”

“When has that ever had anything to do with- with love?” She struggles with the word.

The boy shrugs. “Mum and Dad don’t look at each other,” Warlock observes. “But Brother Francis looks for you, too.”

Nanny’s mouth, ready with a retort, or perhaps a counter-argument, flicks towards a different shape. One that might be, he does? Or perhaps Warlock is mistaken. She pauses, lips pursed again, and sets her teeth.

“I’m sure he does, love.”

The plate is set before him, and Warlock soon forgets his questions. He never asks Nanny again.

But he’s reminded of it when her eyes, barely visible in the light, flick towards the window into the dazzling garden.

Years later, Warlock is nearly sixteen, and has since let the thoughts from half his lifetime ago fade. They never die, just sort of… wait. Wait to be plucked again, notes of memory leaping from their tinny strings. Like a harp.

His mother takes him into town. Soho, where he has no interest in seeing, but his mother so desperately needs a new vinyl, a coffee, and though she never says it: a moment to get away from the house, or more specifically, her husband within it.

She agrees to let him wander. She trusts him, for all she hasn’t before. And perhaps, she says, the fresh, un-televised air could do him some good.

He’s only taken two steps out of the coffee shop, where his mother remains to await her tea, before he almost runs smack into two pedestrians, arm in arm. He takes a surprised jump back, tongue set with an angry scolding, when he gets a good look at them from behind.

“Nanny?”

They both freeze in unison, as if they both know the name, and the voice that has conjured it forth once more for the first time in five years. Warlock notices something else.

“Brother Francis?” He prods, shocked. “Izzat you?”

Both of the two now turn, and everything around the three fades into blurring colors and churning noises.

Warlock would be a rotten liar if he had said he hadn’t missed them dearly. He would also be a lousy boy if he didn’t recognize them by the backs of their heads alone, he thinks. Because he would know them anywhere. They’d always done a much better job at raising him than his own parents.

They both look different now. Brother Francis seems to have had dental work done, and has cleaned up quite nicely. Nanny, though, appears to have changed her style completely. Her- his? Their? Who knows. But she still sports a fine pair of shades upon the bridge of her nose.

The pair seem to stutter, splutter with a little awestruck surprise. It’s as if they’d never expected to see him again.

“Oh- Warlock,” Nanny Ashtoreth begins, feigning a cool-headed surprise. “How good to see you.”

She sounds different too. Less of a high strain on her voice, more natural.

But Warlock seems to finally feel a gear shift, and a puzzle piece clicks into place. He glances down to the space between the two, where their arms are linked.

In his dumbfounded state, he feels a smile split the trance.

They both see it at the same time, chins tilting to follow his gaze. When they catch where his eyes are, their stares mingle together in concern. It’s a look that wonders aloud whether or not they should be worried, or blatant.

Warlock looks back up to their faces. “I see now why you two left,” he adds, grinning wider.

He can’t help it. He was right all along.

Warlock remembers something, then. It takes all of his power not to burst out into a triumphant laugh.

“I’m sure he does,” he says, slyly.

Nanny’s eyes, illuminated from behind with daylight, widen. She remembers, too. Of course she does.

And she bites back a twinning smile.

[gurugirl]

2. The Unicorn | nanny!yn

Unicorn: An individual who is willing to join an existing romantic relationship. Usually a bisexual female.

Summary: The night has arrived and things are going really well for all three of you until suddenly they're not.

A/N: This will be 3 parts. Based on this and this.

Word Count: 10k+

Warning: 18+ only, smut, jealousy, angst, hurt feelings, daddy kink

The Unicorn Masterlist

When you left, Harry walked back inside his house feeling like a new man. He felt real. He felt strong and virile. He didn’t know what had come over him being so direct with you. So rapacious. But it felt natural. It was like something about you brought it out of him.

It wasn’t until he was sitting at the table with the boys eating dinner that any little inkling of guilt started to wash over him. It was then he realized he hadn’t even thought about Kit since he started making dinner. He was conjuring up images in his mind of what you would look like on Saturday in various positions. Imagined the way your eyes would widen and then squeeze close when you orgasmed. Wondered how many he could coax out of you. He’d completely blocked out that his wife would be participating.

He would need to tame himself. See how Kit responded to seeing you and him together. If she enjoyed it he could loosen up a little but he was concerned about the way you two clicked. Your dynamic was very good, Harry thought, that he would have a hard time sharing you. Plus, he wasn’t sure whether or not Kit would like to hear you calling him Daddy. And Harry really wanted to hear you call him Daddy again.

When his wife got home the twins were already in bed and Harry was in the master bedroom reading, “So how did it go?” She asked him as she plucked her heels off, placing her palm on their dresser to balance herself.

“It was good. Why don’t you get ready for bed and then we can talk about everything that happened?”

Harry had decided he’d play down what had happened between you two. He’d be honest but he wouldn’t divulge some of his innermost thoughts. The parts where he forgot all about his wife and how your soft and docile demeanor was refreshing and made him feel masculine and wide awake all of a sudden. No. He wouldn’t share that much with her.

Kit turned off the ceiling light and turned on her lamp before climbing into bed with Harry, “So, tell me how it went.”

“Yeah. It was good. She was very open. She said she wanted to join us on Saturday for sure.”

Kit nodded, “And? Did you two kiss or anything?”

Harry’s heart began to lob in his chest at the idea that he was going to tell his wife what he’d done with another woman. Kit seemed fine. She insisted she was but Harry still felt unease about how to handle this situation gracefully. Without anyone getting hurt.

“Yeah, we did. Brought her into the bedroom, here so the kids didn’t see. Kissed her and then got her clothes off, fingered her,” he inhaled softly and felt his cheeks glow and his chest burn. “That was it.”

Kit grinned and slid in close to Harry, smoothing her palm under his shirt, “Yeah? I wish I could have seen it. Did she come?”

Harry puffed out a laugh of disbelief. Maybe he was fretting for nothing. Perhaps his guilt had been needless. Maybe Kit was right. Maybe this would be really good for them.

“Yes.” He looked down at where his wife’s hand was traveling.

“And did you come?”

“No. I kept all my clothes on when I was with her and then when she left I had to get dinner for the boys and I was with them until I finally got into bed a bit ago.”

Kit palmed over his crotch, “You poor man. You did so good for me today, baby.” She kissed his lips, “You deserve a treat.”

Harry sighed as his wife put her hand into his night pants and began to pump his cock slowly. Closing his eyes with a smile he realized he probably had nothing to worry about.

.           .           .

You were a mess. You couldn’t sleep in the way that was necessary to function properly the next day. You kept going from squealing into your pillow like a 16-year-old after your crush admitted to liking you too, to feeling overwhelming anxiety about what was to come. Kit was an unknown in the equation. For many reasons.

The first was that you’d never been intimate with a woman even though you crushed on women for longer than you had men. The second was that you were worried that now that you’d called Harry Daddy and knew how much he liked it, even if Kit didn’t like that it would be hard for you to turn that off. The third thing was that you weren’t sure you’d want to see Harry kissing anyone else or watch him preferring his wife over you, because he would. Because Kit was so much prettier than you and she was his wife, the mother of his children. You were certain that you’d wind up kind of being the third wheel.

But maybe you had it all wrong. Maybe you’d love being with Kit and things would just be fun. But your rabbit hole Google search wound up landing you on a subreddit all about this kind of thing and did not leave you with confidence about what was to come. So many horror stories about “unicorn hunters” finding their “unicorn” and the ways threesomes can end a marriage.

But you said yes. And you intended to follow through. They both really seemed to want it. And you trusted them. Perhaps your experience would be among the rare ones that worked out for the better.

The rest of the week felt like you were slowly entering into a new realm of existence. Dramatic way to put it but that’s just how it felt. Things would change for you. Not only would you be having your first sexual encounter with a woman, but you’d also be having a threesome. You’d be in the middle of a married couple and that was not a situation you thought you’d ever get into.

But also, you were very aware that Harry was planning on fucking you. In front of his wife. And you couldn’t imagine that going well. Of course, you forced your fantasy to make it positive but there was something that was telling you that it wouldn’t be. You hoped you were just nervous for nothing.

On Friday before you left Mr. and Mrs. Styles’ home, William and Warren were told to get their suitcases ready for grandma and grandpa to pick them up the following morning.

Kit helped you put your bag on your shoulder, as she spoke, “We’re really excited about tomorrow. I hope you are too, Y/n.”

You smiled as you turned to look at her, “I am. A little nervous, I’ll admit.”

You were more than a little nervous.

“That’s okay. We are too. We’ll talk about everything tomorrow and go from there.”

Harry walked into the living room with you and Kit and there was just something different about him following that night he had you in his bed. It made you squirmy and intimidated. His eyes had always been intense but now they felt more severe. Daunting.

“So, tomorrow at 3 then?” He asked you as he raised his brows.

You nodded, “Yeah. I’ll be here.”

And from the moment you drove away from the Styles’ house until you knocked on their front door the following afternoon, you couldn’t get yourself to calm down or think about anything else.

You paced and talked out loud to yourself. You set up scenarios in your head and acted them all out, some of them turning you on quite a lot, you couldn’t lie. You practiced how you’d respond in certain situations. You took a long bath with salts and essential oils and got rid of as much hair as possible from your body so you’d be extra smooth.

You played your music loudly. You masturbated thinking about the way Harry fingered you. You picked the perfect outfit and panties. And you tried to sleep. But that was nearly impossible.

When you did finally wake up it was already noon. You’d slept in. Which shouldn’t have surprised you because you couldn’t get to sleep the night before. You jolted up from your bed and panicked as you ran into the bathroom to get the shower going. You couldn’t believe it was happening. You wondered what Harry and Kit were doing to prepare. Were they freaking out like you were? They both said they’d never done anything like this so they had to be at least a little nervous about everything.

Your soft pink lace bra and panties were your favorites. You didn’t wear them all the time but it felt like the appropriate affair to break them out.

At about 2 pm you received a text from Kit.

If you’d like, you can stay the night. We would be happy to have you all night.

That, you hadn’t expected. You had envisioned it being along the lines of you and the Styles getting finished up and then using their bathroom before an awkward goodbye and See you Monday (you really had thought of every scenario already).

But to stay the night? Would you sleep in their bed with them? Or would they offer you their guest room? Or the couch? You couldn’t imagine sleeping next to them all night. Of course, maybe that would be nice? You really didn’t know. It was hard to think with a clear brain when Harry was involved. The whole situation was wacky but the opportunity to be allowed to sleep with Harry and his pretty wife and have everything be just fine after (hypothetically) was simply not something you’d want to say no to.

.           .           .

Harry was nervous. He was trying to reign in his thoughts and his doubts. He didn’t want Kit to know how deep his worries ran. Because she seemed excited. She seemed far calmer than he felt.

He forced himself to eat breakfast and a light lunch so she didn’t question it. He didn’t know how things would play out once you arrived. And he tried not to imagine all the salacious things he’d been thinking about you in his private time.

When you’d finally arrived with your bag in hand and knots in your tummy Harry took deep breaths as Kit answered the door and hugged you in greeting.

“I hope you’re hungry! I’m making salmon and parmesan risotto.It’s my specialty and I think you’ll like it.” Kit led you to the kitchen where her husband stood and the moment he laid his eyes on you the smallest something ignited in him. It was only a spec of something but it was as if a layer of worry was wiped away instantly. Just seeing your pretty smile with your bag in hand had his mind swirling with thoughts of what might come. He realized part of him didn’t think you’d actually show up. But you did.

He tried leaning on Kit’s poise and mimicking her excited demeanor. On the way she seemed so calm but confident. That’s how it should have been for him. But the bigger parts of worry in him stemmed from the fact that his more dominant natural inclination was starting to peek through the cracks slowly. He’d even initiated something with Kit the night before, which she quickly shot down. He knew his wife was not one for being submissive. Or at least letting him take the reigns fully. But he knew Y/n would want it.

And worse yet, he hadn’t asked Kit if she’d mind if you called him Daddy. That was weighing heavy on him. He knew he should have talked to her about it days prior but there was part of him that worried she wouldn’t like that. He wasn’t sure how it would be brought up at that point but it would come out sooner or later he was positive. Especially with the way you seemed to love saying it.

“This looks so good, thank you, Mrs. Styles,” you smiled softly and looked from Harry to Kit and then back to the steaming pot ofrisotto. You weren’t sure you’d be able to eat much but you’d force something down. Your mind was jumbled and you felt tense.

But of course, this was something new for all of you. You’d all be going through this together and so you probably didn’t have much to worry about.

Harry took your little bag from your hand and his bright green eyes on you felt hot, “I’ll take this upstairs unless you need anything from it right now?”

You shook your head, “I don’t need it. Thank you, Mr. Styles.”

You had wanted to ask Harry what his wife thought about the whole Daddy thing but you hadn’t had the chance the rest of the week and even if you had you wouldn’t have been able to get the nerve up to ask.

“So, what are you thinking? What things are you into?” Kit asked as she handed you a glass of wine.

You leaned your hip into the counter and shrugged, “I don’t know. I think I like it when other people take the lead. I’m sort of, maybe a little submissive,” you laughed softly as you brought your glass up to your lips and looked at Kit. It was the first time you’d really taken her in since you’d arrived. She was wearing a pretty black lacey dress that fit her gorgeous body like it was made for her. Black heels, a smoothed back, high ponytail. Bright red lips, perfectly done eyeliner. Her cheekbones made you envious. You’d always noticed her cheekbones in the past. As well as Harry’s. Imagined they were made for one another. Two exquisitely stunning people.

Kit leaned against the counter next to you, her body turned toward yours, “That’s perfect for Harry and me. We’re both a bit dominant,” she sipped her glass and you watched her eyes trail down over your neck. You’d put on a pretty choker. Light pink small pearls to go with your sexy (you hoped) pink lacey underwear. Over it, you wore a lightweight cream sweater that was almost sheer with a short white skirt with a print of pink and yellow butterflies all over it. You felt underdressed compared to Kit. She looked like an adult and you looked like a child.

When Harry returned to the kitchen he poured himself a glass and looked at you and then to his wife, “What’d I miss?”

“Just asked Y/n what she likes. She’s going to let us take the lead. And look at his, H,” she gently put a slender finger under your pearl choker, “she’s perfect. I told you.”

Harry’s gaze felt so heavy on you. It felt like he was dissecting you with his eyes, “I think we’ll have a lot of fun together.”

A safe choice of words.

Dinner was quite delicious. Though you weren’t really that hungry, the wine you drank helped you feel a bit more comfortable, and sitting and chatting about normal things with Kit and Harry felt really good.

You helped clean up. Harry had put on some music and you were feeling loose from the wine so you were swaying the tiniest bit with the beat. When you felt hands at your hips you turned and it was Kit, swaying with you. She leaned her chin over your shoulder and spoke into your ear, “Leave the dishes. Those can wait. I think it’s time to get comfortable and talk. Come,” she pulled at you and you suddenly weren’t feeling as loose at the notion of talking.

Ground rules. Expectations. It was all necessary stuff.

You followed her into the living room where Harry was already sitting on the couch at one side. He gestured for you to sit next to him and Kit sat down on the opposite side, putting you in the middle.

The music was still playing as Kit turned toward you and put her arm up on the back of the couch, “Tell us your concerns. What things you absolutely do not like.”

You looked down at the coffee table where all three glasses of wine were sat and took a deep breath, “My concerns… I’m worried someone won’t like this after we start. Like,” you looked at Kit, “maybe you realize you don’t want anyone touching Harry. Or even if Harry doesn’t like to see you with anyone else? I just don’t want anyone to feel upset.”

Kit nodded, “A good point. I feel the same. I think we all do. We won’t know until we get into it but I think if there is anything anyone doesn’t like we need to be able to speak up about it. Agreed?”

You nodded, unsure if they wanted you to continue. That was the biggest concern of yours, sort of. You were worried about calling Harry Daddy when things got going. You were worried you would feel left out, which wasn’t fair of you to feel that way. Kit and Harry were married, after all. They’d certainly be paying the most attention to each other.

“Anything else? What things do you not like at all? What is a hard no for you?”

Harry had been quite silent since you all had sat down. But you were feeling heat pouring off of him. And you could tell he had his eyes on you.

“I mean… maybe if I think of some I’ll tell you? I haven’t done much, to be honest. Nothing stands out in my mind.”

“Do you like to be spanked? Or maybe restrained?” Kit raised her brows at you.

You shrugged, “I haven’t really been spanked before. Definitely not restrained.”

“You haven’t really been spanked?” Harry finally spoke up.

You turned to look at him but found you needed to look away quickly. He was too attractive.

“Well, once a guy sort of smacked at my bottom during… Like I was on top and…” you swallowed trying to calm yourself as you saw his hand move from his lap to the space between your thigh and his on the couch, “Like it was just really quick. Just once. So I wouldn’t say spanked but… yeah.”

“And did you like it?” He asked.

You looked at him and couldn’t help but feel yourself singe with warmth, “I didn’t mind it.”

“We’ll learn as we go,” Kit added.

Harry pulled his gaze away from you to his wife when she spoke and it was the first time you noticed it. His unease. It almost seemed like he’d forced himself to look away from you. Like the way you felt when you looked at him.

Kit reiterated that she agreed with you. That there would need to be open communication. She said that she liked to be dominant or at least to have most of the control.

“And I also like to be in control. To be dominant.” Harry said as he looked at Kit and then to you, “I also wanted to see if it was comfortable for you, Kit, if Y/n calls me Daddy.”

Kit looked to the coffee table quietly in thought and then looked at you, “Do you like that? To call your sexual partner Daddy?”

Your eyes widened at the question. You hadn’t expected that you’d answer this question. But you also assumed Harry had already spoken to Kit about it.

“Uh, well. Yeah, I think so.”

“Have you ever called anyone Daddy during a sexual encounter before? Are you comfortable with that?” Kit pressed.

You shot your sight to Harry and then back to Kit. How did you answer this? He obviously hadn’t told his wife that you were calling him Daddy that night and now you didn’t know if you should reveal that you already had. And Harry had been the only one you’d ever given that moniker to.

“I mean I’d like her to, but if she’s not comfortable with it we don’t have to do it, Y/n.” Harry quickly interrupted. You knew he was doing a bit of damage control. Perhaps that little thing would just be a secret between you and Harry. You were okay with that, you figured. You didn’t want him getting into trouble with Kit.

“Yeah. That’s fine. I don’t mind. It doesn’t make me uncomfortable at all.”

“Okay. Good. I’m okay with it, I think. We’ll feel it out and see if we like it,” Kit said, seemingly unbothered.

With the music playing you felt Harry’s pinky graze your bare thigh and Kit leaned forward to grab your glass of wine and hers, handing you yours.

“You smell so good, Y/n,” she said to you with a dreamy look on her face. “Doesn’t she, Harry?”

Sipping your wine you heard his deep voice from your right as he spoke, “She smells delicious.”

The change of the song and Harry’s pinky ghosting at your thigh and Kit’s closeness with her eyes on you had you feeling excited. Your heart began to lob in your chest, faster and faster.

Kit ran her finger up your neck, “You’re so shy. I really love it. Y/n, we’re going to make sure you have fun tonight.”

She got onto her knees and reached across you to pull at Harry’s hand and drew him in for a kiss. You watched them as they wound their mouths together right in front of you. You were smushed back into the couch with your eyes on their lips and watched their tongues meld and lick and heard Kit moaning.

When they parted Harry grabbed your empty glass of wine and placed it on the coffee table before he cradled the back of your neck to pull you in for a kiss. He wanted to feel your silky lips on his and he wanted to make sure you were included in the fun too. He would see to it you weren’t left out.

Kit watched her husband kissing you, their nanny with amazement. It was the first time she’d ever gotten to enjoy this sort of thing and she already loved it.

You felt Harry’s warm and wet mouth pull away from yours as Kit took over and pressed her lips to yours. The way it felt to have her mouth on yours versus Harry’s was night and day. Kit was soft and unmistakably feminine and you moaned as you reached up to pull your arms over her shoulders. With your body turned toward Kit you felt Harry’s big palm slide up your thigh and lift your skirt just a little before his chest was pressed into your back and his lips were on your neck.

“Can I mark your neck, sweet girl,” Harry groaned into your sensitive skin as Kit’s mouth moved with yours flawlessly.

“Yes, Daddy…” you breathed out the words and hadn’t even realized you said Daddy until the name hung in the air immediately after you’d said it. But no one seemed bothered. Kit only became more fervent and you felt her hand slip under your soft sweater.

“Can I touch you? Will you give us permission to touch your body and play with you now?” Kit panted her words before dotting kisses on your cheeks.

“Oh god. Yes, you can. Anything you want.” You meant it. If they wanted to touch your naked body or see it or tear your clothes off you were already so far gone you just wanted to please them. Everything was green for you so far.

You hissed softly and felt the pinch and sting of Harry’s lips at your neck as he marked you like he wanted.

Kit’s hand slid up your tummy to your pretty bra and she squeezed your plushy tit under her palm, “Just say if you don’t want something. Fuck you have such nice breasts, Y/n…” she leaned back and lifted your sweater before dipping down to kiss over the sheer lacy fabric over your nipples and you gasped.

Harry put his hand on your neck and turned your face toward him roughly, smearing his mouth against yours with a deep moan. You opened your mouth to let his tongue inside and you felt a drizzle of arousal pool into your panties. You loved the way it felt to have his big palm on your neck and his mouth ravaging yours while Kit’s lips and tongue worked over the flimsy fabric of your bra, wetting it and making your nipples hard underneath.

He could feel your delicate pearls under his palm as he used his thumb to squeeze you gently. But when he heard your tiny whimper his cock throbbed in his pants and he pulled at you, “We need to get her upstairs in bed.”

Kit grinned and the three of you awkwardly made your way upstairs. The moment you were in their bedroom Kit had her hands at your skirt, pulling at it, “Want this off of you. Okay? He’s had the chance to see your body but I haven’t yet. I’m dying to see you.”

Harry unbuttoned his shirt as he watched his wife remove your skirt and then peel off your little sweater. He walked up behind Kit and pulled at the bottom hem of her dress to pull it off, “Need you out of this too, Kitty.”

You’d never heard him call his wife Kitty before but it made sense now that you’d heard it.

The moment you saw Kit in her tiny black thong and her amazing tits out (she was sans bra) you dropped your mouth open. Her body was insane. She had a tattoo of a flowering tree on her ribcage and another at her hip with shooting stars. It fit her perfectly.

Harry put his hands on her shoulder as he stood behind her and kissed her neck, his eyes on yours.

“My tits need some love, Y/n. Come here,” she reached for you and it was easy to enjoy the way it felt to have a soft breast in your mouth. You sucked at her nipples and lapped your tongue over her skin with your hands cupping both sides, smushing your fingers in to really feel how soft and lovely it was. You couldn’t believe you’d never done anything with a girl before. You were certainly glad Harry and Kit were so forward.

Harry moved his position from behind his wife to behind you. You hadn’t expected to feel his hands at your bum, squeezing and pulling at your cheeks before giving you a soft smack.

You jolted slightly and looked up at Kit with a laugh.

Harry pressed his hips into your bottom against your pink lacy panties and groaned, “Beautiful ass.”

Kit grasped your jaw and pulled you in for another kiss. Soft and tranquil, wet and warm. There was an easy difference in the way a woman kissed than a man and you adored it.

You felt Harry’s hand at your bottom, pulling at your panties to slide into your crack to give him access to your full bottom. The sudden warmth and wetness against your bum cheek might have startled you more if he hadn’t given you a swat just moments prior. His mouth and tongue moved over your flesh slowly until he pasted a wet kiss right over where your panties were stuffed into your bottom.

He gripped your hips and pushed his face in further, soft lips kissing along where your panties were, “Gotta get these off, okay, Y/n? As pretty as they are,” he put his fingers into the band of your lacy panties and pulled them down your ass and legs and you continued kissing Kit with a wet, desperate tongue.

But you gasped and your eyes bounced open when Harry's mouth found your pussy from behind. He pulled your cheeks and put his mouth between them, licking over your labia. You couldn’t help but to turn to look behind you as best you could to watch his dark curls from behind you.

Kit’s hands slid to the back of your bra and unhooked your clasp to get you out of your bra, “Oh shit.” She took you in and delicately moved her hands over your tits, “Gorgeous.”

Harry stood up and pulled his shirt off his shoulders and then began to take his pants down and underwear. He was too hard in his pants to keep them on. He watched as Kit pulled you to the bed. Now that you were completely naked Kit wanted to see you spread out.

You were pushed to your back and she climbed between your legs, “Can I eat you out a little, Y/n? Missed eating pussy.”

You nodded quickly as Kit smirked at you and gave you one more soft kiss to your lips.

You saw Harry come up behind her and look down at you as his wife bent over to press her lips to your cunt. He looked from Kit’s ass to your face and pulled at her g-string to move it to the side as he pressed his fingers into Kit’s entrance, “So wet already, Kitty. You don’t get wet f’me like this.”

Harry’s strong and broad shoulders, the view of his dark tattoos scattered on his chest and arms made you wish Kit wasn’t in your way so you could see him unobstructed.

Kit moaned and lapped at your clit as she looked up at you, “I just love how she feels, H. I’m so horny looking at her body.”

Harry could agree with that assessment. He was already throbbing and he hadn’t even had his cock touched yet. Not that his wife couldn’t get him worked up but having you in the mix was exciting. New.

He fucked into his wife with his thick fingers from behind her slowly and loved the way you sounded when you moaned. He reached down to grip his cock and stroke himself as he looked at your pretty face. Moving his fingers from Kit’s pussy he slid his tip up and down her crease and she lifted and looked back at him, “Yes, H… fill me with that big dick.”

“Yeah? Want this big cock, baby?” He looked at you as he asked.

You moaned when Kit wrapped her lips around your clit again and you felt her fingers thrust into your soft, wet hole.   

Harry felt good plunging into Kit as always. She was familiar and welcoming. He knew exactly what to expect and exactly what she needed to get off. But this time, as familiar as Kit felt, it was so different as he thrust in and pulled back to his tip with his eyes on yours.

He began to rock into his wife and each thud into her pushed Kit into your pussy harder. Kit was bent down with her mouth on your cunt, her ass in the air at the edge of the bed while Harry stood, feet on the floor, and fucked his wife from behind. But he had a great view of your face and your tits. It almost felt like he was already fucking you with the way your eyes were locked on his.

The delicious surge of Kit’s fingers digging into your pussy and her tongue on your bud had you spinning. But it was Harry’s eyes on yours as he grunted with each roll of his hips that had you nearly at your end already.

Kit lifted and looked at you. When you felt her lips move away you quickly shot your gaze back to hers. She continued fingering you, “You gonna come for me, Y/n? Fuck!” She closed her eyes for a moment and pushed herself back onto Harry as she used her free hand to rub her clit, “God, right there, H.”

When Harry began to go in sharper, Kit placed her mouth back on your pussy and moaned at the way her husband was pounding into her. His deep thrusts were making her press into you.

He grasped Kit’s hips harshly and moaned at the view of his cock stretching his wife out and then looked back at you with your lips parted and your hands squeezing your tits together. Your neck elongated.

The sharp spike of stimulation made you cry out and you couldn’t stop the spiral in your tummy from tensing and twisting as you came. Soft wet lips on your clit and slender fingers pumping through your walls felt amazing. But when you heard Harry groan loudly as he began to come inside of Kit you opened your eyes to find his fixed on yours, mouth dropped open with deep breaths heaving from his picturesque chest.

You felt the final deep thrust as the last of his come drained from his cock into his wife as her mouth smashed into you.

You were both breathless as you came down from your orgasms. The eye contact felt intimate. You loved the way it made you feel connected to Harry and to his wife.

Harry grinned and watched as he slowly slid his cock out of Kit, pinching his fingers into her hips, “Y/n, would you like to eat my come from my wife’s pussy? How does that sound to you, sweet girl?”

You nodded and Kit lifted her face from your pussy slowly. Her own chest was heaving as she was so close to her orgasm, “I love that idea. Want to taste Harry dripping out of me, Y/n?”

You pushed yourself up by your elbows, “Yeah, how should I…?”

Kit crawled over you and pushed you down. She brought her cunt to right over your face and let a bit of Harry’s come trickle out onto your chin and your lips, “We’ll do it like this. Now eat.”

With that, she settled her pussy down onto your mouth and you closed your eyes as you sucked and tried to use your tongue the best you could. You tasted the saltiness of his come and the sharpness of Kit’s arousal mixed as you swallowed and pulled at her folds with your lips. The idea that you were getting to drink Harry’s come made you shiver in delight. You never imagined that you’d be swallowing his come down your throat.

When you felt a big, hot mouth dot kisses along the inside of your thigh and felt the grip of a big hand lifting your leg you were spurred on to lick and suck at Kit harder. You were reminded that there were three people in the room.

You felt Harry’s shoulders push against the back of your thighs and felt a deep vibration of something he mumbled against your pussy before his wide flat tongue licked upward before gently rolling your clit in his mouth, his slick muscle pressing and swirling over it.

The sensation of Harry eating you out in comparison to how Kit did it was night and day. Kit was warm and soft, precise. Harry was like a caveman starved, masculine, and messy. You could already feel the way he was smearing your arousal all around your pussylips and the crease of your thigh.

Kit began to rub at her clit as she brushed her pussy over your lips. Her essence was getting all over your face and you really kind of liked the taste. It wasn’t that different from yours, the smell and taste of it.

“Oh my god, baby, those lips,” she moaned and pinched at her nipples as she began to come.

You could feel her shaking and the way her pussy hole fluttered over your mouth, her hips jerking as she rode into your lips and bumped into your nose.

Meanwhile, Harry was moaning into your pussy and lapping at you like ice cream melting. When you felt the addition of his fingers gently poking past your slippery muscle you let out a muffled groan into Kit’s pussy.

Harry lifted your hips up further and dug in deeper. With the new angle, it felt different and you were unable to gain any leverage with your legs at all. You were totally at his mercy with any movement below the waist.

Kit lifted off and sighed, “Such a good girl, Y/n. How was that?”

You gasped and tried your best to respond while your pussy was getting wrecked with Harry’s mouth and fingers, “I like… really liked it!”

Kit softly ran a finger up your neck and to your cheekbone, “Yeah? For a first time that was good. I think we’ll need more practice but that can be arranged. Can’t it, H?”

Harry grunted and smeared his mouth against your clit. You couldn’t hear it if he responded or not but then when Kit moved away you watched as she grasped Harry’s hair and pulled him off your pussy, “Right, Harry?”

He looked dazed as he darted his eyes from his wife to you, “What?”

“Is her pussy that good that you couldn’t hear me?” Kit laughed.

You saw Harry gulp as he stood up and it was the first time you noticed the big tiger tattoo on his left thigh and the laurels on his hips. He was a piece of art, “Sorry, what did you say?”

“I said we could arrange to do this again,” Kit sat back onto her haunches as she looked at her husband.

“Yeah. If Y/n wants.”

Kit looked at you and back to Harry, “So what do we think? Need a break? Are we ready to relax? We’ve all had our orgasms.”

Inwardly you pouted and wanted to throw a fit. You had come but you really really wanted to suck Harry off and have him fuck you. You wouldn’t mind eating Kit out again, but you felt you weren’t done with Harry. Needed a little more.

Harry laughed, “Ready to relax? Kitty, I’m just getting started. I kind of hoped I’d be able to have you choking on my cock or something,” his cocky grin beamed at his wife.

“Choke on your cock? Maybe I’ll let you choke on my dildo. You know I don’t do that. If Y/n wants to she’s welcome to it.”

You sat up and looked from Harry to his wife as they discussed what would come next. Harry looked you up and down like you were going to be an indulgent meal, “Want my dick in your mouth, sweet girl?” Harry gripped his shaft and slowly slid his hand up and down. He was only half-hard. He needed a minute to get back to full mast after his orgasm.

“Yes. I would really like that, Harry.” You looked from Harry to Kit to make sure everyone was on board.

“I think you mean Daddy. Right?” Harry’s stern voice had you sitting up straight.

“Yes, Daddy. I want it.”

Kit softly moaned, “She’s such a sweet girl, Harry. Enjoy your blowie. Mind if I get some water? I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

Harry kept his eyes on you, “Go on. We’ll be fine. Right, Y/n?”

You nodded, “Yes, Daddy.”

Kit paused and looked from you to her husband but then shook off the tiny alarm going off in her head before leaving you two alone.

“Get down here. On your knees. I’ll take it easy on you.”

You climbed off the bed and got to your knees. Harry pumped his dick right over your face and reached down with his free hand to grasp your neck to pull at you, making you sit up further, “Your pearls are so sweet. Did you dress up just for, Daddy?”

“I did. Wanted to be cute for you.” You smiled at him with wide eyes.

“Cutest thing I’ve ever seen, Y/n. Now, get it all wet. Lick all around. I want to get nice and hard for your throat. And maybe if Kitty doesn’t mind, she’ll let me fuck you. Would you like that?”

Your heart pounded as you looked up at Harry and nodded, “Yes, Daddy. Really want to feel you.”

You began to tongue along Harry's long shaft. From the base where he had trimmed dark hair to his tip. You plopped your lips around his crown and gently sucked, making him hiss before you dragged your tongue down to his base and back up again to wet every inch of his girth. You were amazed at the sounds coming from him. Soft and whimpery. You lowered your mouth to his sack and smoothed your tongue and lips along the skin before opening wide and pulling half into your mouth.

“Fucking angel. Shit, I love that.”

You noted his reaction to your mouth on his balls. To save for another day.

When you drew your tongue upward again, along his length you felt him plump. His cock grew harder and harder until he was rigid and completely ready for fucking again.

“Now suck on it,” he pressed the back of your head to urge you down over him.

You wrapped your lips around his head, saliva pooling at your tongue and dripping down his cock as you slowly began to take him in your mouth. Deeper and deeper. He was thick, though and you were concerned your mouth wasn’t big enough or that your teeth would graze his skin. But you pressed on, doing your very best.

He kept his hand at the back of your head and helped gently guide you down, “Come on. You can get a little more in there, baby. Fucking so good with that mouth.”

You felt his tip nudging at the roof of your mouth and slip in close to your tonsils and you gurgled, swallowing around his tip and making him choke out a loud moan.

You did it again, loving the way he responded and you felt him slip in deeper, yet you still hadn’t gotten him all in. He was likely a bit too long for you to take him all. You’d need practice.

The sound of you gagging wetly and Harry groaning filled the room as your eyes watered.

“Jesus Christ, Y/n!” Harry watched your lips as they parted around his cock, drooling down your chin.

You could hear Kit when she came back. She’d said something but you were so fixated on Harry’s cock and making him feel good that your brain was fuzzy and out of focus. The only thing that mattered was making Harry feel good and you couldn’t care about anything else.

The grip he had on the back of your head and the way his hips were moving felt like he was enjoying you as you wetly spluttered on his cock as it grazed the back of your throat.

When Harry pulled you off you sat back and looked up at him expectantly. Harry kept his eyes on you. He looked like he was proud of you as he spoke, “Kitty? Can I fuck this sweet thing? Want to feel to her around my cock.”

You watched Harry as Kit answered, “Okay. I think that sounds hot. Just use a condom, though. Is that okay with you, Y/n?”

You nodded, still focused on Harry, “Yes.”

Kit led you to the bed to lie on your back and kissed you softly, “I’ll play with you a little and probably kiss Harry too while he’s fucking you. Is that okay?”

You finally looked at Kit, breaking the spell you were under with Harry, “That’s fine. Yeah.” You nodded.

“And if we do this again maybe I can wear a strap-on and fuck you too.” Kit raised her brows.

You nodded and smiled. Harry was busy putting a condom on as he listened to his wife talking to you. He hated to admit it to himself, but he loved it when Kit stepped out of the room for a bit. He felt freer to express himself with her gone. Was less worried about sounding like he was preferring Y/n to her.

But he wondered if once he got his cock inside of you how he’d feel. Would he be able to overcome the way he wanted to just dominate you and claim you for himself? It was a slippery slope what was happening but he was freefalling into his dominant persona with you and it felt odd having his wife watch it all. He hoped he didn’t get too into it and lose track of what was really happening.

Harry crawled onto the bed between your legs and thumbed at your clit as he watched Kit kiss you. He wanted to kiss you. Wanted to start off nicely with a warm kiss and push into you that way. So he waited while his wife groped your tits and licked into your mouth.

You reached down to Harry’s hand, where his thumb was at your bud and you bucked your hips upward. He had the most gorgeous view of your wet pussy, just waiting and ready to stretch open for his cock.

When Kit finally pulled her mouth away Harry leaned over you, “I’m gonna kiss her for a bit, Kit. If you don’t mind,” and then he pasted his mouth against yours and lined his cock up with your entrance.

When you felt him push past your tight muscle you could have cried. He was wide and long and you were so wet and he began to thrust in and slowly, his mouth devouring yours. He went in with long strokes, sinking in until he couldn’t push in any further. His muscles working into you, thighs and bottom and back flexing and indulging.

Harry lifted his face from yours to look down at you, cupping your jaw, “You doing okay?”

Your mouth was wide open as you nodded, “So good, Daddy.”

Harry cooed at you as he began to fuck into you harder, making your tits wobble with the force.

Kit leaned over you and began to kiss you again but you could hardly kiss back with the way your pussy was being pounded into and the sound of Harry’s groans were all you could focus on. He liked your pussy, you could tell. And that had your heart singing and your body buzzing.

He loved how your pussy looked wrapped around his cock, tight and juicy as he pushed in and brought himself back to the tip before ramming into you again. He wanted Kit out of the way so he could see your face but he knew he couldn’t ask her to move. She was going to be part of this.

But when he dipped in especially deep, the puffy head of his cock nudging into your cervix and hitting your g-spot with each stroke you gasped and moaned loudly, making Kit move back.

“Daddy!” You howled as Harry panted and repeated what he’d just done. You squealed and threw your head back. It felt so good. He was pushing into your guts and breathing heavily over you.

Harry was glad he’d already come so he could last a bit longer with you. He wanted to drag it out. Really get to fuck you properly and feel you. It was lush being inside of you and hearing your pretty voice respond to him.

“Like Daddy’s cock, baby?” He spoke between gritted teeth as he pushed your thighs into your chest and leaned over you, nearly folding you in half so Kit couldn’t interrupt again. He was getting hot and dizzy for you. Wanted you all to himself.

“It’s the best! Oh fuck!! I love it. I want it… oooh! Need you so bad, Daddy!” You weren’t really sure what words came from your mouth as he pushed into you at the new angle, but all you knew was that your entire world was Harry. Harry… Harry… Harry… He was on you and in and he liked it. You were making him feel good.

“Need me, baby? Need this cock inside your little pussy?”

Harry’s balls were aching as he nudged into you, his sac pressed into your bum each time he bottomed out.

“Yes…” your voice was shaky and breathy as he railed you into the mattress.

Harry let go of your legs to lean over you and press his mouth against yours once again. Wet and hard, teeth scraping and moans of debauchery.

“Need you too, baby. Needed this fucking pussy. You gonna let Daddy own this pussy, baby?”

“Oh god, yes Daddy! This pussy is yours!” You whined.

Kit was at the edge of the bed watching the spectacle and she was quite turned on by the scene. She gently rubbed her pussy as she watched her husband railing you but the words spoken between you and Harry had her feeling a bit weird. She knew she should call a time out but she wasn’t sure if that was a good idea. You were in throws of passion, she tried to reason.

“Holy shit, Y/n!” Harry moaned as he felt you begin to squeeze around him. His pelvis rubbed into your clit and the little sparkles of your orgasm started to grow and grow with each yummy thrust into your clenching walls. His cock spread you wide and his pelvis smeared into your bud as if his body was made for you. The angle was exquisite. Harry thought so too.

“Coming on Daddy’s cock, Y/n? Fucking creaming all over me baby.” He let his strokes go long and deep and languid as he hovered over you, his arms and back flexing as he rolled into you.

You were stunned and unable to speak for moments on end. Your vision went blank and your ears fuzzed out with a ringing white noise that blocked all sound.

Harry moaned a laugh at how hard you were coming, “Feels good doesn’t it baby? Cock is made for you…” his deep thick voice gave away that he was about to come. Kit recognized it.

“Don’t come inside of her. Even with a condom,” Kit sat up and watched closely as you finally gasped and cried out. For some reason the idea of her husband coming, even if inside a condom, while balls deep in another woman didn’t feel right.

Harry groaned and closed his eyes. He wished he would have known before but of course, Kit hadn’t even been sure that was something she didn’t want.

He kept working into you, letting you ride out your orgasm as you moaned and babbled Daddy, yes Daddy over and over again.

When your eyes finally peeled open Harry had slowed his thrusts and he dipped down to kiss you. It was messy and wet. He was on edge, his orgasm so close his balls were vibrating.

He looked down at you and thumbed over your cheek, “Flip over for Daddy. Gonna fuck you from behind and come on your back okay?”

You moaned and nodded as Harry pulled out and watched you lay on your tummy, ass nudged up.

Harry looked at Kit, “Not gonna come inside her. Don’t worry.”

He smoothed his hands over your ass and squeezed, parting your cheeks as he lifted your hips slightly to angle you up for his cock.

Harry pressed back into you, both of you sighing in relief, “Thank you, Daddy…” you mumbled into the comforter.

“Rub your pussy for, Daddy. Want you to feel good, baby.”

You did as he said, reaching your hand down between your body and the mattress as you fingered over your clit and Harry’s loud grunts were timed with each of his strokes into you.

His hips were slapping into your bottom and the tightness of your cunt around him and the view of your pretty anus was like fine art. It was slushy and wet.

You pushed back against him and felt saliva stream out of your mouth onto the bed below.

“Want your come, Daddy,” you quickly slicked your fingers back and forth along your clit as Harry’s masculine moans grew deeper and louder as he neared his end. “Please, Daddy!”

Harry watched his cock disappear into you over and over again, “Want my come, baby? Deep inside your cunt? Want to be stuffed with it?”

You nodded into the mattress, “Yes…” you whined.

“Sounds so fucking good,” Harry cooed as he began to tremble. His arms grew wobbly as his balls tightened. His cock twitched and pulsed and he quickly pulled out, ripping his condom off before spurts of his come started to pump from his dick. He wrapped his fist around himself and milked his shaft, pouring all over your back as he used his free hand to keep your cheeks spread apart. In a daring move, he released the last bit of himself over your ass and pussy as he loudly choked out a moan.

With his chest heaving and your ass swaying back toward him in hopes of him pushing his come inside of you the voice of Kit pulled you from your dreamy haze.

“Get up.” She did not sound as happy as she had been not long before.

Harry removed himself from your body and you pushed yourself up and turned to look at them.

“That’s not what I meant when I said don’t come in her. Coming on her back was okay but then on her pussy like that? You should have asked me first.”

Harry looked at you with his come all over you and back to his wife, “Sorry, Kit. It was all just in the moment. I shouldn’t have come on her like that.”

“I just… I don’t know. We need to talk about this more I think. But not with her here.” She gestured to you.

You were sort of stuck with your ass in the air, unable to move much because of Harry’s come on your back.

“Okay. That’s fine. We’ll talk. Let me clean her up,” Harry pointed at you.

“She can clean herself up. We don’t need to baby her, Harry.”

“Come on, Kit. She deserves to be treated nicely. And it’s on her back. She needs help.”

Kit suddenly walked away and Harry leaned onto the bed to look at you, “Are you okay?” He put his hand on the back of your thigh.

“Yeah. I’m okay. I didn’t mean to make her mad.”

Harry looked over his shoulder and back at you, “She’s not mad, sweetheart. This is all new for us so she just needs a minute. I’ll be right back with a towel okay?”

You felt a burning embarrassment slither down your spine at the idea that Kit didn’t like something you’d done. It was exactly that thing you had wanted to avoid. You loved being with Harry and Kit but you knew you let yourself get lost with Harry and you went too far. You’d fucked everything up and now you were surely going to lose your job and Kit would hate you forever.

Harry got back onto the bed with you and gently wiped at your back, “Don’t worry about anything. You did nothing wrong, Y/n. Okay?”

You nodded and kept your eyes cast down over the comforter in shame. Nothing felt good anymore. You were humiliated. And even though Harry said you’d done nothing wrong it didn’t feel that way.

You put your clothes on silently as Harry slid on his pants and Kit returned, “I want her to go home.”

Harry stood quietly as he looked at Kit in her robe. You let your sight flit between Harry and his wife and noticed the way Harry looked like he was fuming. Pissed.

“Absolutely not. We invited her to stay. She didn’t do anything wrong, Kit. What is wrong with you?”

“I want to talk and I don’t think I can do it with her anywhere near me.”

“Why are you talking about her like she’s not standing right here?” He gestured at you.

Kit sighed and looked down, “I don’t feel comfortable, Harry.”

A scoff fell from his lips, “Well geez. Just imagine how she feels.”

Kit looked at Harry with a scrunched brow, “Are her feelings somehow more important than your own wife’s right now?”

Harry shook his head and ran his hands over his face, “I’m not saying that. I’m saying hers are just as important as yours. She’s a human, Kit. Fuck.”

Kit left the room again, stomping as she walked into the hallway.

Harry turned and stepped in front of you, taking your hands in his, “I’m sorry about this. I didn’t know she would act this way. I’ll get the guest room set for you but you can’t drive after all that wine we drank and I’m not letting you take an Uber home alone at this hour.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind. I’ve never had any bad experiences with Uber drivers-“

“No fucking way I’m allowing it. You’re staying here and that’s final.”

Harry walked out of the bedroom and you plucked up your bra and panties that were lying on the floor and followed him to the guest room.

But you stopped before you went inside when you heard him and Kit arguing quietly.

“That was too intimate, Harry. Her asking for your come and you saying how good that sounded. Saying your cock is made for her? Fuck.”

“Kit, we were having sex. I can hardly remember what things were said to be honest. I was caught up in the moment.”

“I shouldn’t have let you fuck her.”

“Maybe not, but it’s done. Too late to take it back now. Jesus.”

“I don’t want her here. Now all I can think about is the way you two were just ignoring me and enjoying each other. I was completely left out there at the end.”

“I didn’t mean to do that. I’m sorry.”

Kit sighed, “Me too. I feel disgusted. You should sleep on the couch tonight.”

“Come on, Kit. Don’t be like this. You know we were all just having fun.”

Kit walked out of the bedroom and stopped when she saw you. The look she gave you told you to keep your mouth closed and move out of her way. It felt like a threat. A warning.

You stood silently in the hallway as Harry made up your bed and you felt tears stream down your face. Kit suddenly walked up to you and handed you your bag roughly before walking back to her bedroom and closing the door behind her.

Harry peeked out of the room and saw you standing with your bag in your arms and tears in your eyes.

His heart dropped as he pulled you into the bedroom and wrapped his arms around you, one hand cradling the back of your head as he shushed you, “Don’t let her get to you, baby. Please don’t cry. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

You gulped and the softness of Harry with his arms around you made you cry harder. You tried to stop your tears but everything had really just made you so overly emotional. You’d gone from ecstasy straight to shame and humiliation.

He rocked you gently back and forth and kissed the top of your head, “I didn’t even get to love on you after. I’m so sorry. I wanted to make it so special for you and it was ruined. Please don’t be upset. I’ll make sure Kit’s okay by the morning, okay sweetheart?” Harry held you out in. his arms and looked at you. He thumbed at the tears under your eye and you blinked up at him.

“Fuck,” he whispered as he leaned in and kissed your forehead.

Leading you to the bed he pulled the blankets down and patted at the mattress, “I’d help you change into your night clothes but I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to do that right now. Are you gonna be okay in here? The bathroom is right there,” he pointed at the ensuite guest bathroom. “Towels are in the closet. I’m gonna go and talk to Kit and see if I can calm her down. Text me if you need anything. Okay?”

You nodded with a pout. You were doing your best to hold your stupid tears in as Harry hugged you again and then stopped at the doorway and turned to smile at you sheepishly before closing the door and leaving you cold and alone and shattered.

Part 3

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[krysmcscience]

The Lamb is malicious in a funny way and the Goat is funny in a malicious way. No, I will not elaborate.

Anyway, everyone give thanks to the Lamb for interrupting what was sure to be a very boring and patronizing PSA from their grouchy cat hubby. Truly, they are doing God's work. Granted, the Lamb canonically is God now, so, uh. Mostly they're just doing their own work.

Speaking of their grouchy cat hubby, yes this is absolutely still Narilamb, Narinder is 100% into his goofy-ass spouse always no matter what and we all know it, he just wasn't expecting his brand new adopted kid to share the same single goofy-ass brain cell as the Lamb. :)

[soft4gguk]

to build a home | chapter sixteen

Pairing: Jungkook x reader. ceo!jk + dilf!jk x nanny!oc

Genre: strangers to lovers. angst. fluff. smut.

Word count: 19.7k 

Warnings: don’t wanna spoil too much so i’ll be brief. angst. yes! angst. unprotected sex, oc dom era?, handjobs!!, oral (f), dry humping (bc it’s me lol), loads of riding!, sweet missionary. also… this might not be with, uh, jk. or it might! who knows… keep reading :) 

Author’s note:  i don’t even know what to say to be honest, i’m so nervous for you guys to read this chapter but also so, so excited to hear what you think!! so, like always, do let me know what you thought!! so much to unpack here lol. I LOVE YOU! thank u for waiting for this one, hope you enjoy. xo <3

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

Chapter Sixteen

You wait for a feeling of dread to take over you. For your heart to feel heavy, for a breath to get caught in your throat. You expect your eyes to burn with the promise of tears in a matter of seconds but none of that comes. Instead what you feel as your words come to a halt and all you can hear is the crashing of the waves, is relief. You feel light, like something’s left you. Something you’d assumed you’d weighted correctly based on the assumptions of your heart, but now you realize how wrong you were. You know this because as silence fills the air and you can’t muster up the courage to look at Jungkook, a weightless feeling overcomes you. One that lets you know that you can let go. You can breathe now. You did the right thing – you tried. 

It’s something you can barely control when your legs give out and you’re lowering yourself, sitting on the sand as you fixate your gaze towards the sky. It’s beautiful, you think, a sense of peace taking over you. You feel his eyes on you and for a second, he lingers. Hovering over you as if calculating his next move. You don’t seem to be paying him much mind and Jungkook is almost grateful for this. He believes your eyes on his could break him in more ways than one and so the semi-privacy you give him as he collects his thoughts is one he doesn’t take for granted. He stays very still, taking your words in even after you’ve gone quiet. He waits for his head to spin, his fight or flight to kick in, a wave of overthinking to take over him but none of this happens. And when it doesn’t, he simply follows your actions, coming down to sit next to you. He’s awfully close, it’s what you perceive at first. The warmth his body gives out, the one you’ve grown heartachingly familiar to, gives this away. His eyes aren’t on you anymore and before you can think this through, you’re looking at him. You watch him as he watches the sea and the sky perform for the two of you. The sight alone feels like a consolation from God, but you can’t help it when your eyes remain glued to him. On the way his gaze grows softer, dark hair swept slightly by the wind, his strong arms wrapped around his knees, making him look small. His nose, his lips. His face. The face you love, despite it all. 

Despite his silence. 

And so, ever so softly, you plead.

“You don’t owe me anything. You don’t have to feel what I feel but please don’t give me silence.”

Something inside of you tells you this is what you should’ve said long ago, but you reach for no harshness in the way things have turned out for the two of you. You can only be grateful that these words are finding you now. 

He looks at you, eyes meeting yours that never left him. His voice is a barely there whisper, but still all you can hear. 

“I’m sorry.”

You smile. “What for?”

Is he sorry for his silence? For the silence he now knows he’s kept for weeks. For the silence he now knows is the cause of very many things that now make sense to him. Is he sorry for not loving you back? Is he sorry for you? For the way your eyes give the sadness away, even when almost tricked by your smile. Is he sorry for not being able to give himself this thing. This one good thing that’s his and only his. For your eyes, that seem to take him in like nothing else matters. Not the sky, not the sea, not the way your heart sinks with every passing second that it takes for him to speak next. 

“You don’t deserve my silence. You don’t deserve any of this.”

“I know,” you say, but your voice remains soft. Kind. “I choose my battles, though.”

He smiles at you, but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “I heard you that first time.”

“Yeah… I figured that much.”

“I didn’t think–” he stops himself.

“That I meant it?”

“Yeah,” you nod at this and he continues, “at first I didn’t want to say anything just in case you hadn’t realized what you said but then you… acknowledged it and I– I froze, __. I should’ve said something, anything, I know that now. In that moment, though, I just… pushed it to the back of my mind because my brain told me a million reasons as to why maybe you didn’t mean it.”

You turn your gaze away from his, fixing your eyes back into the ocean so as to hide the way his words make you feel. Something about your words being pushed to the back of his mind makes your heart ache. In this moment you realize that the pain you’ve been feeling has little to do with love unreciprocated and much to do with love dismissed. You know his words hold no ill-intent but you can’t help but picture your feelings as this physical thing – small and fragile at the palm of his hands, being crumpled like paper and tossed to the side. 

Nonetheless, you push the feeling aside for the sole reason that you know him. You know Jungkook isn’t a bad person, you know his actions are but a reaction of something heavier he carries. 

“I understand. I was hurt, I won’t lie to you and I say I wasn’t but… I understand.” Jungkook nods once, facing the ocean, trying to grasp for words but when he fails, you continue. “This silence makes me feel like we’re strangers. Like a person I know– a person I love, is a stranger to me. And I’m at fault for that, too. I should’ve come to you sooner. I should’ve told you how I was feeling.”

“I don’t–,” Jungkook sighs, and the act alone loosens up the tension that he’d been holding onto. “I don’t blame you for not coming to me. I don’t think my actions were welcoming and that probably… that probably really fucking sucked for you, __. I’m sorry.”

“Do you still love her?” Your own question takes you aback, but you can’t take it back now. This is a good thing, you reckon. Now’s a good time as any. “Ira, I mean. Do you still love her?”

It takes him a beat too long to answer. “No. Ira and I had been on a steady decline for a while… longer than you’d probably think.”

“I don’t think of it, Jungkook. I know nothing about it.”

He looks at you now. “You’re right.”

“And I’m not asking you to… tell me all of it. I know it was hard. I know it still is hard so I would never demand to know but… I think I’d like to know that much.”

“I don’t love her. I thought I did, when she first left I thought that on top of everything, I’d have to deal with being in love with her still but… how could I love someone that did that to the person I love the most?”

“Soori,” you state, matter of factly.

“Yeah. And I get that… I’m a person. With human reactions. That I can resent her for what she did to her as a father but still hold on to what she gave me as a man but the moment she walked away… I’m not saying she took all the love I’ve ever felt for her with her, but she made things very clear for me. That wasn’t the person I’d fallen in love with. The person I’d fallen in love with would’ve never done that. And so that was that, I guess.”

You shift your body to face him better and the expression he holds breaks something inside of you. 

“But it still hurts.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it still hurts. I think of the day when I’ll have to tell Soori about it. And when I’m not thinking about it, I’m having nightmares about it.”

“I get that but… I also meant,” now it’s your turn to sigh, deflating slightly before your next words leave you. “It hurts you as a… person. Not a father.”

He smiles, half-heartedly. “It does. I’m just now realizing that it does.”

“Because you can’t love me.”

Jungkook hates the finality your words hold. The way you say it matter-of-factly. The way your voice loses all the hope it usually carries. The way you sound resigned – like you’ve just given up. On this. On him. But he can’t blame you for any of it. All he can do now is give you honesty. You and himself. All he can do now is try. 

“I don’t know what I’m allowed to feel or not feel. I don’t know what I feel. All I know is that most days, I don’t even trust myself. That it takes me about ten minutes every morning to get out of fight or flight mode. I second guess my very own thoughts and when I think of the me that fell in love with Ira, or the me that opened up to anyone in the past for that matter, it feels so incredulous. Like an out of body experience. I don’t feel like me anymore. I haven’t in a while. I don’t know who I am outside of being Soori’s dad. And every piece of myself I’ve regained it’s been by observing the muscle memory my friends have around me.”

“I understand.” It’s all you can say, afraid that anything else would fracture you further. 

“Yeah, you do. Surprisingly you do.”

He looks at you now and you allow yourself to stare into his eyes. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that it’s always felt like you understood, even when you didn’t know. You never asked questions yet you never tiptoed around it. Around me.”

“I think the cure for most things is giving ourselves the permission to feel them. I like to extend that to those who I think might need it.”

He laughs, in disbelief. Not because he doesn’t believe you, but because the wisest part of him does. “Yeah, that’s the thing, __.”

You frown. His tone picks up a bit, making you feel slightly defensive yourself. “What is?”

“When I met you I… I almost resented you. Sometimes I ask myself how it is I ended up giving you the job–”

“I ask myself the same thing. But I never thought you resented me.”

“I didn’t. I didn’t resent you. Maybe I wanted to. But I never got to. I’d be in a shitty mood going down the stairs, feeling ready to be out the door and get to the office so I could shut everything out and not have to deal with anyone. Then I’d go inside the kitchen and you’d smile at me. So bright I mistook it for pity for a while until I realized that it wasn’t that. You just… understood. I still don’t know what that means but all I know is that it changed me.” His gaze falters for a while before facing down. “I wanted to go back to my normal life. I wanted my problems to go away, as much as I knew that was impossible, it’s still all I wanted. And then you came in and gave me the total opposite of that.”

He looks up, eyes on yours and it hurts. It hurts because he’s making total sense, yet you’re confused. You find yourself in the middle of a battle between your heart and your brain, and they seem to be hearing whatever appeases them the most. 

Jungkook smiles, more to himself than at you, as if lost in a memory. “You felt new – not because you were new in my life, but because you’re nothing like I’ve ever known before. I tried to push you away because welcoming you into my life meant more changes, but that never worked out, did it?”

“I don’t know,” you answer sincerely. Wherever this conversation’s going, you don’t know, but all you can do is listen. 

“__, you’re–” his words come to a halt, breath hitching in your throat as you wait. “You’re warm and bright. You’re so beautiful, the way you think and the way you speak don’t stand behind – not a single part of you fails to be beautiful. And I was the complete opposite when I met you. You pulled me out of it, against my will even.”

“Jungkook, why are you telling me this?”

“Because I don’t know what else to say. I don’t know how to tell you how I feel, but this much I know it’s true.”

Your eyes hide from his gaze, the burn of the feeling in the form of tears catches up to you and now you’re the one that vows silence. 

“I’m scared,” Jungkook says. “It sounds so fucking stupid when I say it. And all I seem to do is try and push away the feeling but it just comes back stronger the next time. I’m not scared of what I feel for you, I’m not scared of you, __. But I am scared of what that entails.”

“Why,” you ask, the word barely there.

Jungkook’s body turns to face you, his hand coming up to your face gently before he’s bringing your eyes to his. He tries to let his heart speak but it doesn’t quite meet his tongue. 

“I don’t know.”

“Oh.”

“You don’t deserve… this.”

“I don’t.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry because you can’t be with me?”

“No. I’m sorry because I’m about to ask you to be with me.”

Your eyes widen, confusion lacing your features yet the glimmer in your eyes is evident and Jungkook doesn’t miss it. The way you look at him right now makes him want to be better, and perhaps that’s what’s been getting him through these months all along. You. 

“I– why would you be sorry for that?”

“Because I’m not gonna be perfect at it, but I want to be good at trying.”

“That’s all I need, Jungkook.”

“We haven’t… given ourselves the opportunity to try. To really try. I guess that’s on me, so I apologize. But I want us to try. I want us to talk and I want to try and explain to you why I feel the way I do. I want to understand it myself I–”

You hold his cheek in your hand, stopping his words. “That’s all I need.”

“No–”

“Yes. For now, it’s enough. We don’t have to live in a hypothetical future. I know it’s hard not to sometimes but, we can go day by day. We can give ourselves the next twenty four hours and then go from there. It’s all we have control over, isn’t it?”

“You’re wise. I was not this wise at twenty three. Still am not.”

You chuckle, shaking your head at his words. “I’m not wise. I’m–,” in love, you want to say, but you know that if a moment ever demanded for time and patience, it was this. “I care for you. I care for this. I care for us. I can’t begin to imagine what it felt like… when she left. And I understand that pain doesn’t go away in a day, but I just want to be by your side, I guess.”

“You are. You have been since the beginning.”

“So, let me.”

“Okay.”

He wants to kiss you and God, there’s nothing you want more right now but there’s no way of guaranteeing privacy and you’d like to keep this moment to yourself. Jungkook calls your name, making you face him once again. The sky’s about to end its show and you think that perhaps it wasn’t all consolation from God but another, bigger thing. Hope. A sign. Pleading in screaming colors. 

“Yeah?”

“I haven’t done this in a while.”

“What exactly?”

He ignores your question. “I mean, years. I was probably your age the last time I did this and I don’t know if much has changed but,” your face still hints at confusion but there’s a little smile that forms in your lips that he doesn’t miss. It makes him feel shy but he breaks through it, needing you to hear him loud and clear and for nothing in his demeanor to translate into anything but what it is he wants. 

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

You smile. “I’ve never been asked that in my life.”

“Oh, I– maybe it’s weird–”

“Yes.” Jungkook frowns. “Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend, I mean.”

He smiles. Heartachingly so and God, it hurts so good. 

“I probably should’ve asked when I could kiss you.”

“Meet me in the hallway at midnight, we can kiss then.”

“Deal.”

“Oh, and Jungkook?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I like knowing that you’re the first person to have asked me that.”

“I want many firsts with you, __.”

A soaring feeling takes over you. You feel like running in the direction of the wind, so fast it’d almost feel like flying. 

“We’re off to a good start, then.”

“Yeah. Yeah we are.”

~

The rest of the night breezes you by. A calm taking over you that you hadn’t felt in weeks. A calm that’s only overshadowed by the longing you feel for him. You long to hold him, to kiss him, to brand the new title you now hold. 

Girlfriend. 

You’re his girlfriend. 

Lucy corners you as soon as you two make your way back, sporting casual faces as you both separate into opposite sides of the big garden so as to not draw attention to your absence. He goes back to the grill, an oblivious Mingyu and an all-too-knowing Taehyung waiting for him. You go back to Mai and Kenny, taking Soori in your arms and heading to the kitchen to make her bottle. Lucy follows you then, concern and curiosity all over her face until she sees the smile on your face. You barely get the words out before Jimin’s making his way inside the kitchen, too, cutting your conversation short. Nonetheless, she smiles. Pleased enough with what she knows, but not entirely surprised. She’d been rooting for you all along. 

By the time Soori begins to fuss about, you don’t waste a second to put her to bed. Jungkook approaches you and his proximity feels like fire, igniting all sorts of things inside of you. He offers to help and put her to bed but you encourage him to finish up at the grill and spend time with his friends – it’s your last night here after all and the weekend had been full of ups and downs. He deserves this moment of steady ups, to calmly go about his night and enjoy the company that surrounds him. By the time Soori’s tucked into bed, dinner’s ready. You steal glances and knowing smiles from the opposite end of the table, enjoying the relaxed nature he sports and how beautiful it looks on him. Your boyfriend. 

Yeah, of course, a part of you wants to scream it at the top of your lungs. You want to wrap your arms around him and not waste a single second. But you’d be lying if you said the anticipation wasn’t building so sweetly – the thought alone of the night coming to an end as you two come together filling you up with something that feels new. Security. It’s comforting, you think, not having to doubt it for a second. 

With very many helping hands, the dinner table is clear and all that’s left to do is relax by the fire. Soft music playing in the speakers, old tales between old friends being exchanged, accompanied by laughs and smiles. It’s the perfect night, and you think of the irony that it holds. Your morning started with uncertainty, the kind that pangs at your chest and leaves you restless. Now, looking at him, the light coming from the fire dancing across his features, you couldn’t feel more different. Your chest feels airy and for the first time in a while, you’re confident the sleep that will find you tonight will be peaceful. 

After much deliberation, Mai being the voice of reason, it’s decided that it’ll be an early night. There’s packing to do and an early morning that awaits to drive back to the city. You feign a sad face when Lucy reaches for your hand to help you get up from the couch and Jungkook smiles because he knows all too well. You’re a shit liar and in a moment of self-indulgence, he likes holding that knowledge. He likes knowing you. He likes that there’s something in this room that only you and him know, that’s yours to keep. Another part of him wishes to break the distance – cant stand it, even. He wants to sit next to you, to pull you into his lap and feel you against his chest. He wants to whisper things in your ear when the conversation around him grows boring and to feel secluded from the world, even if in a room full of people, because he has you. 

You check on Soori, who’s sound asleep, before you head back to your room. You breeze through the process of packing, too, yet taking your time. It’s thirty minutes to midnight and the anticipation builds inside of you like smoke. When you’re all packed you decide to jump in the shower, letting the warm water wash away the day and make room for a new beginning. You’ve always believed in the healing properties a good shower can hold but this one in particular secures the notion for you. You brush your hair and do your skincare, a smile plastered on your face the whole time, so much so that you barely recognize the reflection in the mirror. You’re about to get into your favorite oversized t-shirt, your tried and true choice of sleepwear but you think again, reaching in the very depths of your suitcase and retrieving a white, cotton slip dress with lace embroidering. It’d been a gift from Lucy, who had gotten tired of your old 90s t-shirt of a golden retriever that was missing an eye from wear and tear. 

You notice the house has grown quiet around you and at exactly 11:59, you stand in front of the door, turning the lights off inside your room and taking a deep breath. You smile, shaking your head as the romantic in you (which could be said is all of you) thinks of the fact that the last time you kissed Jungkook today in the wine cellar, you didn’t imagine your next kiss would be as his girlfriend. 

The universe romances you back, because at exactly midnight you open your door, a gasp leaving your mouth as you’re met directly with Jungkook. You have about enough time to register the smile on his face before he’s grabbing you by the waist and pulling you in, lips on yours before you can even speak. You melt into the kiss, hear the way he sighs against your mouth, making you smile. You wrap your arms around him, fingers carding through his hair as you pull him impossibly closer to you. He pulls away, eager to see your face, but not before your lips meet his again in a single whisper of a kiss, like he can’t fully pull away. 

“Well, hello,” you say.

“You make me a weak man, I’m sorry.”

This makes you laugh, bringing your lips back to his. “Mm, I beg to differ. All the waiting we had to do today required a lot of willpower.”

With his lips still on yours, he mumbles, “yeah, I hated every second of that.”

You push him away, mock shock lacing your features. “Hey, I thought it was quite romantic.”

“I think getting to kiss my girlfriend is even more romantic.” 

He doesn’t give you a second to process the words that leave him, and all you’re left with is his lips on yours and an army of butterflies taking over every inch of your body, leaving you weak at the knees and at his very mercy. Eventually, though, you compose yourself (if only a little).

“Yeah, it kinda sucked not being able to kiss my boyfriend.”

He pulls away, tight grip at your waist still as he cocks an eyebrow at you. “You got a boyfriend, huh?”

“Yeah, sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I was too caught up in the kissing.”

“Who is this little punk anyways?”

You laugh, throwing your head back. “You know, just some guy I found.”

He pulls you in once again. “Lucky bastard.”

“No, I’m the lucky one.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Let’s agree to disagree.”

“Nah, I say we work it out.”

When he pulls you closer, it’s slower this time. Head leaning to the side, a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth before he kisses you. He takes his time, taking the lead as you melt into him, letting him guide your tongue with his. You get lost in him, so much so you lose track of time, too focused on the way he claims your mouth, on the way his hands feel as they skim down your body. You almost don’t hear the way you moan against his mouth, fully reacting to him. 

When you remove your mouth from his, his lips land on your neck as he peppers open mouthed kisses over your skin. 

“We probably shouldn’t be doing this here,” you tell him, closing your eyes at the sensation before drawing your head back involuntarily, granting him more access. “Someone could– come out and see.”

“I don’t care.”

It takes you a minute to register his words and also the certainty of his tone when he says them. “You don’t?”

This makes him stop. “Do you?”

“I– I don’t know. Do you not?”

“I don’t, no.”

“But-”

“You’re my girlfriend. This should’ve not been a secret for a while now.”

“Oh.”

“But we can take as much time as you need,” he says, calmly scanning your eyes to try and read your thoughts. 

“No, no. I– I just want you to feel ready.”

“I’m ready.”

“Are you sure? We have… all the time in the world.”

“Yeah, so why waste it?”

You smile at his words. “How would we go about it?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess I could just… bring it up? Namjoon’s gonna freak out.”

You both laugh. “Lucy already knows.”

“Oof. Jiminie’s gonna be mad he didn’t find out before her.”

“Our best friends are dating.” You widen your eyes, making Jungkook chuckle at your sweetness.

“Yeah, and so are we. That’s kinda cool, isn’t it?”

“Does that mean we get to…,” you feel shy all of a sudden, hiding your face slightly so you don’t face him, “go on double dates and stuff?”

“Yes, angel. We get to go on all kinds of dates.”

“I’m excited about that. I’m excited, Jungkook.”

“Me too, baby.” He pecks your lips once before he pulls away, leaving you pouting and needy for more. “I’m gonna have to get a new nanny.”

His words make you pull away slightly, shock evident all over your face. “What? Why? What do you mean?”

“No, baby,” he laughs. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant… well, I want us to go places together, just us two.”

“Lucy can babysit. She’s good with kids, plus Jimin’s used to babysitting her and she’s very comfortable around her and–”

His hands cup your cheeks, bringing your forehead to his. He can’t quite put into words, the way it makes him feel when you talk about Soori like this. With an overprotectiveness he’s only ever seen in, well, himself. 

“Okay, baby.”

“Okay.”

He smiles, thumb caressing your cheek and he can’t help but chuckle. Your own laughter is soft, rolling your eyes a bit at his teasing. The next kiss he presses against your lips is tender, and you melt into him, sinking into the feeling and surrendering to his touch. Your body’s used to him, lips familiar with his own but your heart can’t help but feel like this moment is full of firsts. The hand that holds your waist grips tighter, his chest now flushed to yours. You can feel his breathing, taste his lips, touch his skin as it gets warmer with the heat of your kiss. Words of need are about to escape your mouth but before they can, Soori’s baby monitor is going off on Jungkook’s phone. He sighs, giving a little out of breath chuckle before he’s reaching for his pocket and retrieving his phone. 

“Is she okay,” you ask, peeking into the screen to see her on the baby cam. 

“Yep, just awake. Maybe it’s just taking her a while to adjust to the new sleeping environment.”

“Yeah, that sounds about it.”

“I’m gonna go check on her.”

“I can come with,” you tell him, fingers coming to his face to push a strand of hair behind his ear. 

“No, baby, it’s okay. Go to my room and wait for me there, I’ll only be a minute.”

“Alright.”

You smile as he leans in, lips capturing yours in a quick peck that doesn’t fail to steal your breath away nonetheless. He makes his way to Soori’s nursery and you cross the hallway, heading to his room. His bed looks inviting and it’s only when your head touches the pillow that the weight of the day seems to fall upon you. You feel like you’ve lived a variety of realities today. From hopeful, to hopeless to… this. Now. Waiting for him in his bed, his scent that still lingers on the pillows sending a troop of butterflies to your stomach as you take him in. Your body yearns for him, wants him, and perhaps not all sexually. Just holding him, breathing him in, could be enough you reckon. 

You miss the way your eyes grow heavy, body nuzzling into the sheets, and it’s only when Jungkook walks through the door that you notice you’d fallen asleep. 

“Hi,” you say, the grogginess in your voice making him smile. 

“Sorry for waking you up,” he says, getting into bed with you and pulling you closer in one swift movement until his arm is wrapped around your waist and your foreheads are nearly touching. 

“It’s okay. How long were you gone for?” 

“Like twenty minutes. She was a bit fussy.” Your eyes widen in surprise, it’d felt like no time had passed at all. “You tired, baby?”

“I don’t know.”

He laughs. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“My body is but my mind is not. I’m too… happy.”

“I’m happy, too.” He kisses you, pulling away too quickly for your taste but when the back of his hand gently caresses your cheek you rejoice in the pleasure of the simple act. “Thank you.”

Opening your eyes, you look confused. “What for?”

“Everything. Understanding, being with me… not just now but, in general. It makes me feel… like everything’s going to be okay.”

“Everything is going to be okay. The angels just told me.”

He laughs, loud and so very beautiful. “They did?”

“Yeah. What are you laughing for?”

“Nothing, nothing. You’re right. Bet they talk to you, considering that, you know, you’re part of the gang.”

“The gang?”

“Of angels.”

“I know what you mean I just can’t believe you called them a gang.”

“Fine. The troop.”

“That’s almost worse.”

“You’re not unpleased often but when you are… oof.”

You smile, with your eyes first before it meets your lips and for some reason Jungkook finds the act so seductive. Some reason is cutting him slack, actually. He knows the reason. He knows all of the reasons. 

“Please me then.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Yeah? You’re not too tired?”

You shake your head. “No, baby.”

He kisses you, words a murmur against your lips when he says, “we can go slow.”

“Mm, yeah. I like that.”

“Yeah?”

You nod your head, a lazy smile on your lips when he pulls away and that’s all the confirmation he needs. The mere notion of having you soon sends his body into overdrive in sheer anticipation. Your skin is soft as he runs his hand down your arm, reaching your leg before it’s making its way back up under your nightgown. You sigh, eyes on his before they’re closing at the feeling of his touch on your bare skin. You’re receptive to him, tonight more than ever and you don’t miss the way he adorns your skin with goosebumps everywhere he touches. His hand closes around your ass cheek before he squeezes. He groans, making you smile. When you open your eyes, his are impossibly dark and fixated on you. You kiss him, nimble fingers making a descend down his torso, stopping under his navel before you touch the soft skin of his abdomen under his shirt. He hisses against your lips when your hand finds his cock over his sweatpants, hard. You close your palm around him, thumb moving against the head and the friction alone has him groaning against your mouth. 

“Fuck,” he says, voice deep in a whisper.

“Feel good?”

“Yeah, so good.”

You hum against his lips, hand coming inside his pants and wrapping around his cock. He feels hot and heavy in your hold already and he sounds even prettier now than he did before. So supple for you, so needy. It makes you want to give him the world and then some. You jerk him for longer than either of you can register, too distracted by the way your lips meet sloppy and lazily in a kiss that seems to have no end. Jungkook gets carried away, a sweet sinking feeling in his lower stomach making him regain consciousness as he brings his hand to yours to halt your movements. 

“Shit– I was so close,” he pants, grip tightening on your hand. 

“Why not? I want it. Please.”

He shakes his head. “Wanna fuck you.”

And you want that too, yet something about the way you two were kissing, his little moans and groans against your mouth as you felt his cock throb in your hand has you making a mental note to come back to this at some point. Easy, simple, like you have all the time in the world. 

And you do. 

“How do you want me, Kook?”

He looks into your eyes for a beat too long, as if contemplating the endless possibilities. 

“Fuck, come here, baby.”

He kisses you deep, towering a bit over you as he presses you against the mattress before he’s holding your waist and swiftly turning you to the side until your back is flushed against his front. You feel his cock against your ass, backing up a little to feel him better and he whines, forehead falling on your shoulder. He takes your panties off in a second, your hazy mind barely noticing until the warmth of his fingers finds the place you want him in the most. 

“You’re so wet, baby.”

“Want you so bad, Jungkook.”

You turn your head to face him better, give him a fucked out smile that has his cock jumping for attention between your bodies.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, lips so close to being on yours. Your cheeks grow a new shade of crimson and he smiles, kissing you finally. 

“Thank you. I think you are.” You can barely finish your sentence, words getting caught in a little gasp as his middle and ring finger circle your entrance. He coats them in your slick before they find your clit, running lazy circles against it and making you jolt slightly in his hold at the sensation. “That feels so nice.”

“Can’t wait to have my cock in here,” he presses his fingers into your opening, ever so slowly, making you whine as you back into them. “Stay still, __. Be patient.”

“Please,” you beg, looking into his eyes before they grow heavy in pleasure as he begins to move his fingers inside of you. 

“You’re so fucking tight it drives me insane, baby.”

“Y-yeah?” your voice is a whimper. 

“Yeah. ‘S all mine, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, Jungkook.” You moan his name, can feel the way he smiles against your cheek before he’s pressing a kiss against it, slowly moving towards your ear, his breath on the sensitive spot making you shiver. 

“Say it.”

“It’s your pussy, Jungkook. Only yours. I’m only yours.”

“Yeah, baby. You are. All fucking mine.”

He fucks his fingers into you one last time before he’s abruptly pulling out, making you gasp and close your legs at the loss of friction. He wastes little time, bringing your ass to him before he’s spitting into hand and bringing it down to his cock, coating it over his head and down his shaft. He grips at the base, aligning himself against your opening and slowly pushing inside. You both sigh, turning back to meet his face before your laughter combined fills the room. It’s sweet, the way you share this moment with him, his lips on yours not long after, the kiss deepening with each thrust. 

“That feels so good, Kook,” you say, bringing your forehead to rest on his. 

“Yeah. Love fucking you, baby.”

“Fuck me forever,” you look into his eyes as you say this, playful sure, but words filled with intention. 

“Fuck, I’m trying,” he chuckles, “so far, so good.”

He holds onto your hips, fucks you deeper and hits that spot, making your back arch and your eyes roll. “So good.”

His hand travels up, sneaking under your nightgown as he finds your breasts, palm closing around it before he pinches your nipples, pulling sweet little sounds out of you. He fucks you slow but deep, paying close attention to the way your body reacts to him. To the way your moans turn into whines when he goes deeper, the way your hand closes around his under the soft fabric, the way your pussy clenches around his big cock. You begin to unravel in his arms, feeling the way his hand travels down, missing his touch already. He lays his hand on your lower stomach before he’s pressing into the soft flesh, the whine that leaves your lips high pitched at the feeling. 

“Do it again,” you plead, “and fuck me harder.”

He complies, pace growing a tad bit faster and deeper until he can feel what he’s doing to you on the palm of his hand. You press your face into the pillow, fingers gripping the sheets tightly as your breathing grows erratic, teeth closing around your bottom lip.

“Gonna cum for me, angel?”

“Yes. Fuck, yes, Jungkook.”

“Let go, baby. Wanna feel you cum all over my cock.”

His words against your neck are all it takes for you to let go, growing very still for a second before you’re cumming in short little spasms and God, it feels so good. He coaxes you through it, words of praise leaving his lips as he places pillowy kisses all over your skin, making you shiver. The bliss takes over your body as you come down, turning to him and locking his lips on yours. 

“That was so good,” you tell him, voice soft and sweet and it drives him insane. 

“You feel so good.” He sounds a bit delirious, mind fixated on the way your pussy throbs around his cock. 

“Want you to cum, baby. Want your cum, please.”

His dick jumps inside of you, he’s sure you can feel it. “Fuck, don’t talk like that.”

You giggle. “Why?”

“I’ll cum like this.”

You blame your boldness on your post-orgasmic bliss. “Why not?”

He smirks, eyes closing as if taken aback by your words. He shakes his head, “you know we can’t.”

“Yeah, I know,” you give, but something in your voice lets him know you’re only rearing up. “But it feels good to think about it. It feels so good. Do you think about it, Jungkook?”

It takes him a minute to register your words, hips starting to move as he thrusts into you slowly. “Y-yeah, I think about it.”

“Does it feel good when you do?”

“Fuck- it does, baby.”

“Sometimes it’s all I can think about," you confess, "you filling me up…”

He lets you sit with your words for a second before he’s pulling out of you. Partly to compose himself, and partly to push you back against the mattress and hover over you, his body finding a spot between your legs. When he looks at you his gaze has darkened, eyes no longer playful. 

“Enjoying yourself?”

“Yeah. Are you?” You tempt him, words pushing his new demeanor further. 

“You’re a little greedy, aren’t you?” His hand closes around your neck, applying just the right amount of pressure, all the pleasure going to your head as the sensation makes you a little dizzy. 

“Yeah, just for you, Jungkook.”

He wants to bite back, to keep the act up but the truth is that your words dismantle him, cock throbbing in painful pleasure and he needs to cum. He crashes his lips into yours, bringing his hips down and gripping at his base until he’s pushing inside you again. It doesn’t take long for him to get back to where he was, so fucking close, mind in a haze as he still takes in your words from earlier. It takes all his willpower not to bust inside of you right now, the way you moan against his lips only edging him further. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

He pulls out, pumping himself a couple of times before he’s cumming all over your tummy, painting the tan of your skin. His face contorts in pleasure, wet strands of black hair falling against his forehead as he bites his lip. It takes him a couple of seconds to recover, holding onto your waist as he takes in the sight before him. He thinks the image of you coated in his cum could make him hard again, and if he wasn’t sure enough then, he is now. His eyes follow your every move as you bring a finger down to your stomach, running it over a white stripe before you’re bringing it to your lips, sucking on it for emphasis before you’re swallowing. 

“I guess that’s an upside to no creampies. I get to taste it,” you smile, finger between your lips still. 

His eyes are wide, mouth slightly agape and when he can’t form words, cock jumping at your filthy actions, he says,

“Holy fuck, give me a second.”

You laugh, bringing his face to yours, kissing him deep and slow, tongue playing with his and he just lets you. 

Your next words are a whisper,

“We got all the time in the world, remember?”

~

Your side of the bed is empty.

It takes Jungkook a while to notice, his body struggling to fully wake up and mind begging him to turn off the irritating sound of his alarm. His arm reaches out but it’s only met with the soft fabric of his sheets. He frowns, a bit more awake now, opening his eyes slowly to make sure his sense of touch isn’t betraying him. He looks around the room, the door to his bathroom closed, everything oddly quiet with the exception of his alarm. He quietens it down, sitting up and running a hand through his messy locks. He reaches for his phone, checking up on Soori through the baby cam. The frown that dents his forehead from not waking up next to you softens the minute he takes the sight before him in. You’re in her nursery, sitting on the floor and she sits in front of you. You get her attention when you show her two dresses to pick from. She goes for a cute pink one with frills and bows at the shoulders. He scrunches his nose in endearment, leaning back into the pillows to enjoy the show a little longer. He gives himself the luxury of just looking at the two of you. The way she hands you one of her plushies and you pause on the task of getting her dressed just so you can play with her. You put on a british accent, pulling faces as you make the toy frog speak. Soori giggles, imitating you with babbles and cute faces. It feels like she does something new every day and seeing the two of you interact leaves no doubt in his mind that he’s got you to thank for it. 

He feels peace as he enters the bathroom, washing his face and brushing his teeth – phone propped up on the counter, giggling when Soori’s happy shrieks come alive through the speakers. And yeah, it’s not the first time he’s thought it, but in this moment Jungkook thinks that he could get used to this. He could really get used to this. 

The house is quiet around him when he steps outside of his bedroom and into the hallway. 7:15 – still early for everyone except his daughter, and you apparently. He makes his way to her nursery, sneakily peeking through the door, but the moment he steps a foot inside the room he’s got two pair of bambi eyes looking up at him. 

“Look who’s up, Soo Soo,” you say, pointing at Jungkook and making Soori shriek in excitement at the sight of her dad. 

Jungkook smiles as he walks to you, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips as he says, “good morning, baby.” You bring Soori up, raising her towards him and she giggles when he places a kiss on her forehead and says, “good morning, princess.”

“Say good morning, daddy,” you look at her, kissing her on the cheek and laughing when all she does is babble a string of dada’s. “That’s good enough.”

Jungkook sits in front of you, Soori in the middle and deep in debate on whose attention to get first. Jungkook wins and she crawls over to him, abruptly landing on his lap. He laughs, picking her up and peppering kisses on her plump cheeks. “Was she up really early?”

“Kinda. I was gonna let her sleep a bit more but she was fussy.”

“Could be sleep regression.”

“I love it when you talk dad to me.”

“Ha. Good, plenty more where that came from.”

You smile. “Hey, come here, missy. I still need to do your hair.”

Jungkook passes her over to you, but not before taking her back in his arms right before you’re about to catch her, her sweet laughter filling the room. “Okay, okay. Go with Nana.”

She crawls towards you, looking at her dad one last time before she’s nuzzling herself in the middle of your crossed legs, hands busy with her toys as you work on her pigtails. You have an assortment of bows in front of you, indecisive still on which ones to use. Jungkook just observes you – doesn’t miss how gentle you are with her, how she finds her spot between your legs and just stays there. He can’t remember the last time she stayed still while he did her hair. 

He thinks you’re magic. 

“All done,” you say, opening your hands at her side for her to take them. “Show daddy, Soo.”

She looks up at Jungkook, smiling at him and he melts at her sweet actions. “You look so stinkin’ cute, princess.” You went with the white bows, a little too big for the thin strings of hair that comes out of her pigtails but it only makes her look ten times cuter. You stand her up and she holds onto your thumbs for support, bouncing in place as Jungkook opens his hands towards her. 

“Wanna go to daddy?” You’re about to hold onto her little hands to encourage her but she takes the first step all by herself. You and Jungkook look at eachother, freezing for a second and trying not to move or make any noise so as to not jinx the moment. 

“Oh my God,” he whispers, and just like that, you’re letting go of her hands gently and his daughter is taking her first steps. She’s a bit confused at first but the moment she takes her second, slightly wobbly, step towards him she smiles. She’s in his arms in no time and he brings her closer, hand on her head as he kisses her face. “Good job, baby. I’m so proud of you, Soo Soo. You’re so cool, wow.”

Your hands are still over your mouth, shocked and excited all at once and you can see the way Jungkook’s eyes tear up. It’s only when you blink and it stings that you realize tears had pooled in yours, too. “Wow,” is all you can muster. 

He dries his tears with the back back of his thumb, laughing and shaking his head. “Holy shit. Shit- sorry,” he says to Soori, “don’t repeat that.”

“I can’t believe that just happened.”

He looks at you, that beautiful smile you love plastered all over his face, so big it meets his eyes. “We’re both crying.”

“I know,” you laugh, and he follows, giddy and airy and you can’t seem to stop. “That was so cool.”

“I know right?” He looks at her, placing another kiss on her cheek before he’s placing her back on her feet. “Wanna go to Nana?” 

“Nana!” Soori says, igniting a new set of tears to swell up at your eyes. 

“Come here, baby.” 

And she does, her little legs going faster than she can master yet and falling on the very last step but you catch her, an immediate smile on your face that lets her know she’s safe and she claps when Jungkook does, looking back at him and then back at you, stars in her eyes and surrounded by so much love. 

“Polaroid time!” Jungkook exclaims, sitting up. 

“You brought it?”

“Yeah. I was kinda hoping it would happen this weekend, but I’d lost hope, not gonna lie.”

“Daddy’s always prepared, isn’t he, Soo Soo?”

She claps again, crying for him a second after when she sees him leave the room. You keep her distracted for the minute it takes Jungkook to fetch the camera and come back into the room, another clap from her when she sees him again. You get her, that’s pretty much how you feel too. He sits back down in front of you and you reach for the camera, letting Soori go to him with her newly found walk. She’s still getting the hang of it but she’s so good at it already. You might be biased but you truly do believe she is the smartest baby ever, and moments like these simply prove your point. 

You point the camera at them, Jungkook holding onto Soori as she stands up and they both smile. “Say, Soori walks now!”

“Soori walks noooooow!” It’s picture perfect. They both are. Jungkook reaches for the camera and says, “now one of the two of you.” She walks to you when you beckon her over, falling into your lap and making you both laugh as she stares confusedly at you. Jungkook hides behind the camera and says, “say, Soori’s a velcro baby!” and with that, your smile is turned into laughter, Soori following suit as she looks up at you and the flash goes off. Jungkook smiles, confident on the fact that he’s probably just taken the best picture ever. 

“Let’s take one of the three of us,” you say, scooting closer to him and placing Soori between the two of you. Jungkook extends the camera in front of you and in an instant, the memory is etched in a photograph forever.

 This happens a lot as a parent – a milestone becoming your favorite memory – and it only makes him look forward to the future, and that, for reasons only he understands, takes him by surprise. He looks at the pictures that you arrange in a neat line in front of you, smiling and pointing as you show Soori, who has developed a newly found interest of looking at herself in photos. Jungkook thinks about how once upon a time, he imagined having to do this all by himself. It made him dread the milestones, the excitement, because he always felt like the notion of something missing would haunt him. But so far, the milestones have been nothing but sweet. This one the sweetest thus far and it’s that word – thus far – that stirs something inside of him.

Without giving it much thought he says,

“I want to stay.”

You look at him, smiling. “Ugh, I know. I could easily live by the beach.”

“No, I mean it. I want to stay.”

“Oh–”

“You have three weeks off from book club, right?”

“Uh, yeah…”

“Then let’s stay. Just the three of us. I can take time off, too. And we could just… stay.”

“I mean– I,” you don’t know what to say, “could we?”

“Why not?”

“I didn’t bring enough clothes for three weeks.” It’s a shit excuse and the moment it leaves your mouth you both laugh.

“We can go to the nearby town and get whatever we need. I think you’ll really like it, actually. It’s very picturesque.”

“Well, I can’t say no to the beach and picturesque nearby towns…”

“Hm, I know how to get you to stay forever then.” He kisses you, long and deep and you smile against his lips when his words start to sink in. Soori taps Jungkook’s chest and whines, demanding his attention. “What’s up, baby?” She looks back at you, as if claiming you. “Ah, well, you had to learn this at some point. Today we’re gonna learn how to share-”

“Jungkook!” you shove him playfully, taking Soori into your arms and kissing her cheek. “You don’t have to share me, bubby. It’s okay.”

“Hey, I’m teaching her valuable life lessons!”

“How about you share?” you glare at him, pulling Soori closer to you. 

“Tsk. No can do,” he steals another kiss, chuckles meeting your lips and you join him, his happiness contagious. Or maybe it’s your happiness that’s contagious. 

It doesn’t matter, you think. Your happiness and his combined, Soori at the center of your little universe… it’s warmth. It’s pure warmth. 

~

By the time ten a.m. rolls around, the house starts filling up with noise – little kids running around, Jimin and Taehyung bickering in the hallways over who the best superhero is, and everyone wheeling their suitcases out and about, wondering whether they’re forgetting anything and estimated time of arrivals. 

Jungkook and Soori lay in the bed of the guest room you’ve been staying at, lazily playing with Soori’s toy fruit basket as Jungkook makes her plushies sit around in a circle circle and Soori feeds them. You do your makeup, get ready for the day, steal a couple of glances their way as you try and still your heart at the sight alone. You do and undo your hair a couple of times, shifting between a ponytail and letting it down. You opt for letting it down, roll your eyes when you realize you subconsciously (or very consciously) do it because it’s how Jungkook likes it best. And hey, you’re all for feminism, but can’t you just enjoy being his silly, little girlfriend for a moment? Surely you get a hall pass for being in the honeymoon stage alone. 

“‘Kay, I’m all done,” you say, stepping back into the room and blushing the moment his eyes are on yours and he smirks. You’re wearing a white sundress, so very you, and he can smell the sweet scent of your perfume from where he stands. He makes a slow circle with his index finger and you roll your eyes, attitude easily dismantled the moment he says, “please” and so you give in, spinning around once as he whistles. 

“Gorgeous,” he says, emphasis on the s.

“Thank you,” you sound collected, which is a partial truth. “Shall we head downstairs?”

“Let’s go, I’m starving,” he leaves the bed, taking Soori in his arms and laughing when she makes grabby hands at the floor. “I see how it is…”

“We must encourage her,” you say, taking her from him and placing her on the floor. She looks up at you, then at Jungkook, and just like that she’s sitting on the floor, a pout forming on her lips before she’s letting out a cry. “No, no, baby! We’re here!”

“Yeah, princess, look!” and she does, sniffling some as she makes grabby hands at Jungkook. He looks at you, guilt settling all over his face and fighting the urge to not pick her up. Said urge is about to win, but you’re faster than the temptation. 

“Kook, she won’t want to walk… you can’t pick her up now.”

“But—,” he says, but deep down knows you’re right, “fine.”

“It’s okay, Soo. Look, we’ll hold your hands and we can all walk! Isn’t walking so much fun?”

He doesn’t know how you do it, because in an instant she’s back on her feet, one hand holding onto him and the other onto you, and the three of you are making your way down the hallway. Going down the stairs is fun, her laughter filling the air as she bounces on each step and you both swing her gently. 

She doesn’t fail to get everyone’s attention and the second you three enter the living room she’s got all eyes on her, excitedly waiting for her appearance. Jungkook looks up at his friends, doesn’t miss the way they all hold their breaths as they see their niece hitting a milestone – one of many they have and will be around for. 

“Good morning, everyone. Look what Soori can do,” he says, letting go of her hand and you follow. She stands there for a second, wobbly legs threatening to give out but she stands her ground, smiling at the people she loves the most in the world, all gathered in a room and gawking at her with stars in their eyes. Taehyung kneels down, clapping once and opening his arms for her, making Soori shriek in excitement and waddle towards him before falling into his arms. He’s crying, holding onto her and showering praises against her cheek in-between kisses. They all join him, gathering around her and taking turns loving on her. 

“Well, I think that’s all the encouragement she needs,” you say, laughing and taking in the sweet sight before you. 

Hobi picks her up, taking her into his arms and kissing her temple. “Bad day for you to be cooped up inside a car for two hours huh, baby?”

“We’re gonna stay.”

Kenny looks up at him, taking Soori from Hoseok. “Huh?”

“Yeah. The three of us are, actually.”

Everyone’s eyes are on the two of you, so naturally they don’t miss the way Jungkook’s hand wraps around yours the moment the word “us”  leaves his mouth. A silence falls around the room, so dense that you’re convinced everyone can hear how loud your heart is beating, your hand gripping Jungkook’s in an attempt to ground yourself. Not that you didn’t see this moment coming, because you did, but you can’t help but admit it’s a bit nerve racking, to be perceived by all of them at once. Your eyes look for Lucy, not surprised when you see a cheeky smile plastered across her face, Jimin looking up at her in confusion. 

Yoongi’s the first one to break the ice, always one to bring balance into any situation. “Well, that’s a well deserved vacation, Jungkookie. I’m happy for you.” He looks at you when he says that last sentence, offering a warm smile you don’t fail to return. 

“Yeah!” Namjoon yells out, startling you. “It was about time— for your vacation, I mean.”

“Joon,” Iseul says, shoving his arm discreetly.

 That’s all it takes for all of you to break into laughter, Jungkook looking at you for a second before he’s looking back at his friends. Taehyung looks at him, muttering a silent, “fucking finally,” his way and raising his hands to the sky in prayer. Jungkook rolls his eyes at him but deep down, he’s thankful for his friend and for his words of advice from the beginning. 

“Well then, let’s have one last family breakfast before we have to hit the road,” Hobi says, bouncing Soori on his lap before he looks at you, “how do you take your coffee, __?”

“Um, iced americano.”

“Easy! I’ll get on it— oh, like Kookie! So, two?” Kenny asks, smiling at you, something in her eyes that you understand. A bond, perhaps, or simply more happiness combined. 

“Yep. Thank you, Ken.” Jungkook smiles at her, squeezing your hand one more time before walking the two of you to the garden alongside everyone else. He leans over, whispering so only you can hear, “that went well.”

“Yeah. Yeah, it did.”

“Sorry for being blunt I just— I don’t know. I wanted them to know.”

“It was perfect,” you look at him, a sweet smile on your face and God, he wants to kiss you so bad. But as much as he wants to, he doesn’t know where you stand when it comes to PDA — so much to figure out and it feels sweet to him, the beginning stages of a relationship. Of your relationship.

You sit down next to Jimin, looking up at Jungkook who tells you he’s gonna help in the kitchen. You nod and smile when he leans down and places a tender kiss on the side of your head, blushing and feeling shy all of a sudden but the moment doesn’t linger for long.

“We can go on double dates now!” Jimin says, face nuzzled between his hands as he sighs.

You laugh. “You know, I had the same thought.”

He grows serious all of sudden, making you feel slightly anxious. “I’m happy for you guys, __. Really happy.”

You smile. “Thank you, Jimin. I’m really happy, too.”

He returns the smile for a second before it falls, leaving you confused. “Can’t believe you told Lucy first. I thought we had a real friendship going on, __!”

And while you try to reassure Jimin that you two do indeed have a real friendship going on, Mai intercepts Jungkook on his way to the kitchen, holding onto his shoulders and startling him. 

“Jesus Christ, Mai.”

She stares at him for a second too long before the biggest smile forms on her face. “Eeeeeek!” she shakes him a bit, jumping up and hugging him. Jungkook laughs, wrapping his arms around her middle. “I’m so happy! Oh, you so owe me one,” she says, “but I’ll settle for a thank you. For now.”

“Thank you, Mai.”

“You’re so welcome!” she hugs him again. “I’m a really good cupid.”

“So this was your plan all along?”

“Well, no. My plan was really to find you a nanny. The fact that she was pretty, charming and sweet were all add ons with loads of potential. And I see potential where potential is due,” she winks at him, chuckling when she sees the way he blushes at her words, being taken back to very many years ago and to an eighteen year old Jungkook. She never thought she’d see it again, but boy is she glad she gets to. 

“Yeah, well, thank you. I mean it. She’s… special, isn’t she?” He says, looking out the window, his eyes finding you. You can’t see him but you’re smiling, laughing as you attempt to keep up with Jimin and Jin who seem to be talking your ears off. 

“Oh, no,” she says, making his head turn back towards her. “She’s more than that, Kook. She’s magic.”

And he smiles because he knows. 

He really, truly knows. 

~

In the course of five hours, Soori has not only learned how to walk, no. Soori’s a runner now. Perhaps runner is an exaggeration, yes. A fast walker a more accurate way to describe her, but you can’t help the hyperbole when she quite literally runs away from you as you attempt to get her pink converse on her left foot. The right foot was a success, distracted enough by the sunglasses she’d snatched from your head. The left one is bare and aids her into running away from what she probably deemed a boring activity. Arms up and giggles filling the air, she’s promptly stopped by Jungkook’s arms that catch her in the act. 

“Are you gonna turn me into a kid’s-leash-parent, Soori Blue?” 

Jungkook partly blames Jin for this, and recalls how just a couple of hours ago he took to play-pretend chasing her all over the garden, claiming “this is how my dad taught me how to walk!” and yes, perhaps he’d helped develop her confidence but now he’s made her a runaway and that’s… pretty fucking funny, if he’s honest. 

Soori snatches Jungkook’s own sunglasses from over his head, confidently stating, “Nana!”

“No, baby, these are daddy’s. Let’s get your shoes on.”

“She’s a runner,” you say, passing him the cute pink converse you’d held onto since the betrayal. 

“Do we need a leash? Be honest with me right now.”

You laugh. “No… Yes? I don’t know. I don’t think so. Those look so barbaric!”

“She doesn’t even have that long of legs, how is she so fast?”

“It’s the inertia,” you say, bringing your arms up and imitating her prior movements. 

Jungkook ties her shoe, braving through the way she ruffles his hair, a couple of strands getting caught in his now messy locks and pulling some. He winces — she’s also become ten times more mobile in the past five hours, or so it seems. You argue that she’s simply full of adrenaline now, helping get her chubby hands away from the strands and smoothing Jungkook’s hair out in the process. 

“All done and ready to go,” he says, smiling at you and then looking back at Soori, “you ready to go in the stroller? Yayyyyy, the stroller!” his saccharine voice and smile makes her clap and both of you let out a sigh of relief. 

Her desire to be running out and about does make the process of getting everything — and everyone — packed into the car a bit more difficult, and she fusses a little when he straps her to her carseat, but for the most part you consider the task successful, your hands meeting in a celebratory high-five as soon as Jungkook steps inside the driver’s seat. 

“Wanna play music,” he asks, handing you his phone.

You take it, smiling when you see his wallpaper — a cute picture of Soori, probably taken a couple of months back. She smiles into the camera, and it’s all you can see, half of her face covered in one of Jungkook’s beanies, a couple sizes too big for her. “I’m in a Fleetwood Mac kick lately.”

“Of course you are,” he says, backing into the driveway and stealing a glance your way, a smirk plastered on his face. 

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re an old soul, baby. Like God made a bit of a mistake making you Gen Z.”

You gasp, and then contemplate it a bit and realize that, fair enough, he’s got a point. “You’re kinda right. I am quite old school.”

“Mhm,” he mumbles, hand coming to rest on your thigh comfortably, “but I’m glad you came into this timeline because I get to have you and your Fleetwood Mac kicks.”

You laugh, the soft chords of Silver Springs’ intro filling the enclosed space around you. “We would’ve met in another timeline, too, I think. We would’ve been so cool. We would’ve been listening to this live!”

“Yeah, and doing shrooms in a field somewhere whilst Dreams played in the background and you would’ve probably had bangs.”

“I would’ve 100% been a hippie, and you would’ve been a yuppie and so very dapper. Enemies to lovers.”

Now it’s his turn to laugh. “I wonder how that would’ve worked out.”

You feign deep contemplation for a second. “In missionary so we could keep arguing.”

“Oof. Take me back then.”

“Jeon Jungkook?”

He chuckles, squeezing the inside of your thigh. “Ah, baby, don’t worry. I’ll argue with you in missionary in all of our timelines.”

“I’m relieved,” you say, rolling your eyes dramatically but the smile that forms at your lips is one that’s too big to hide, succeeding at being flustered by your boyfriend. 

The rest of the ride looks pretty much like that — Fleetwood Mac, your fingers intwined in his over your leg, and more of the flirty back and forth that seems to pull new shades of red on your cheeks every time. You make a mental prayer for the ride to last just a little bit longer, but can’t say you’re disappointed once you finally make it into the picturesque nearby town Jungkook had told you about. It is, indeed, picturesque, almost like something from another time. Restaurants lining the streets, tables lining the terraces and beautiful people adorning the very scene. Everything seems to be a paler shade of white, green and yellow, brickstone shaping most of the facades and you begin to recognize the name brands rather quickly. Gucci, Prada, Dior and the like, as well as some boutiques you haven’t heard of before that look just as expensive. But hey, you do see a Domino’s Pizza. That’s a win in your book. 

You’re so enthralled by the surroundings that you don’t realize Jungkook has parked the car and is about to make his exit. A bit dumbstruck still you follow in his steps, eyes widening when you realize that this place even smells expensive. It also smells a bit like lemon sorbet and that seems to be even more shocking than the latter. 

“Do they have, like, an H&M around here?”

Jungkook turns to you as he unbuckles Soori’s belt, “a what?”

“An H&M. You don’t know H&M?” Your voice a mix between indignation and shock.

“The store?”

“Yes!”

“Ah,” he nods his head, “no.”

“You don’t?”

“I mean, I do. I don’t know that I’ve seen one around here, though. Why?”

You take Soori from him as he walks to the trunk to pull out her stroller. “These are all really fancy stores… I—”

He unfolds the stroller in one swift moment, looking up at you from under his sunglasses, a black lock coming loose over his forehead. “Don’t worry about that, baby. It’s my treat, okay?”

“I can’t let you do that.” You don’t meet his eyes, sitting Soori inside the cushiony seat of her stroller and buckling her in.

“Why,” he asks, nonchalantly. 

“Because. You don't have to do that. I can just wash the clothes I brought, it’s no big deal.”

“Hm,” he walks over to you, pulling you closer by the waist and placing a kiss against your cheek. “I know I don’t have to. I want to. So let me? Please?”

“Jungkook—”

“Please.”

He hits you with the puppy eyes, and you can’t believe you’re actually having this conversation with him right now. What’s worse, you can't believe you’re about to agree, unable to deal with confrontation, even if it’s this silly. “Okay but… moderation.”

He laughs. “Are you policing my expenses now?”

“No. Well, yes. Don’t I get a say?” You cross your arms, hip jutting slightly and he smirks at the attitude. 

“No.” and with that, he begins to walk, pushing the stroller and turning his head to look at you and say, “you coming?”

You roll your eyes, catching up to him and circling your arm around his. “I’m not used to… gifts.”

“I know, baby. Didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable, I’m sorry.”

“No, no. It’s not uncomfortable just… weird. But not necessarily in a bad way.”

“Yeah, I get it. I do wanna treat you, though. For no other reason than just wanting to. So just enjoy it, yeah? For me?” You nod your head once, looking down at the floor but smiling. “Thank you,” he says, finding your temple and leaning his forehead against it.

“So, what first?”

He looks around, considering his options. “Miu Miu? You look like a Miu Miu girl.”

“I do?” you ponder, more to yourself than to him and this makes him chuckle.

“Yeah, let’s check it out, come on.”

And Jungkook is a very wise man because, yes. You are a Miu Miu girl. A Dior girl, too. Hell, you even dabble in some Gucci if you do say so yourself. Jungkook, in your very humble opinion, is a Prada boy, but you can’t deny your favorite is Jungkook the Calvin Klein boy. You swear you’ve never seen anyone fit into a pair of jeans so perfectly, and for this you envy him a little. A little a lot. You spend the afternoon exploring the very many options the world of high fashion has to offer. Dresses, shoes (they make expensive flip flops, to your surprise), shirts and pants and at some point, you take Jungkook’s advice and stop looking at the price tag. Advice isn’t quite the word, it’s more of a demand. You’re not suddenly unaware of the hefty splurging taking place, no, but you must admit that it makes the experience ten times better. The two of you laugh at the extravagant, odd pieces some brands sell, try on unflattering sunglasses and make a runway out of the dressing rooms. Jungkook makes you show him every single thing you try and by the third time he does it, you stop pretending to be annoyed at his boyish reactions. Your boyfriend is the biggest hypeman, making you twirl and spin and showering you in praises, making the choosing part a little harder than it’d usually be. 

You don’t fall too far off, though, and quickly enough watching Jungkook try on clothes becomes your new favorite thing. Can you be blamed? He looks good in everything, can pretty much rock every style and you get to see him take off his shirt an innumerable amount of times. You have to compose yourself and make a mental effort not to gawk at him. If luck was ever in your favor, it’d be today. 

Soori also reaps off the benefits of Jungkook’s little (big) shopping spree, and soon enough you find out that nothing brings him as much pleasure as shopping for her. He picks the coolest pieces, a perfect mix between girly and the tomboyish style you secretly know is his favorite. Comfy and cute in her oversized t-shirts and Carhartt baby clothes. She also gets a new pair of sneakers for her newly found hobby and tests them out by running around the store, making every sales associate swoon over her. So much so they actually whine when you three walk out the door, waving their goodbyes. 

“I get it now,” you blurt out, getting Jungkook’s attention. “The whole shop ‘til you drop thing, I get it now. It’s real.”

He chuckles, throwing an arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer. “Did you enjoy it?”

“I did. Could watch you take off your shirt, like, eleven thousand more times.”

He tries to hide how flustered he is by smiling, lowering his voice when he says, “we don’t have to go shopping to do that.”

“You’re right, what a lucky girl I am.”

“Lucky? Lucky me. I should buy you eleven thousand more dresses just so I can experience this more often.”

He makes you blush, but what’s new? 

“Let’s not be greedy now.”

“Oh, but you want me shirtless forever?”

“Yeah, exactly. It’s what I deserve!”

And he can’t deny you. Matter of fact, he’s about to let you know that much but something catches his eye. He stops in his tracks and makes you pause, too, confused for a second as you follow his line of vision. 

Agent Provocateur.

It’s pink, fun, sexy, and indeed provocative, and that’s just going by the window display alone. This one you are slightly familiar with, having taken a couple of trips with Lucy in the past just to admire the overpriced lingerie and gasp in shock when you discovered the wonders of the ouvert panty. You sure do learn something new everyday.

“We forgot to get you underwear,” he says, a shit excuse for nonchalance lacing his tone. 

“Ah, but I’m a girl. I packed underwear for, like, a month.”

“That so,” he asks, eyes still on the shop’s window. 

“Yep.”

“I mean, you could never have too much underwear.”

You laugh. “I really don’t need it, Kook. It’s okay.”

“I do,” he states, looking at you with a smirk.

“Hm. Why don’t you go in and pick something out for me then? I’ll take Soori on a little walk, I think she could use it.”

“You’re giving me free will to get you anything I want inside a lingerie store?”

“Yep.”

“This is the best day of my life.”

“Go to town, baby. The world is your oyster!”

Jungkook’s off, not before laying a kiss on your lips and another on Soori’s forehead, excitedly walking towards the store and then gaining back some of his composure the moment he’s about to step inside. He’s out of sight in a matter of seconds and you laugh in disbelief. What is your life? 

“Soori, you should be so glad you won’t remember this when you’re older,” you say, kneeling down in front of her and smoothing out her hair. 

“Nanananana.”

“Let’s go get ice cream and walk around, yeah?”

Your suggestion is met with excited clapping from her part and just like that, you’re off on an adventure of your own. It doesn’t take you long to locate the most delectable ice cream you’ve ever laid eyes on, in the cutest shop. Everything is pastel and old school and it fits the vibe of the town so well you wonder if every single shop in this town got the memo. Domino’s pizza being the hard exception, of course. You go for the strawberry sorbet and a bit of hazelnut for balance, as recommended by the ice cream expert behind the counter. On a cone, of course. Soori’s a simple girl — chocolate and vanilla on a little cup. You find a bench, sitting the two of you down as you multitask feeding her and feeding yourself, but soon enough it all becomes pretty democratic as she takes licks from your cone and you steal spoonfuls of ice cream from her cup. Ha, and Jungkook thought she couldn’t share! 

With that thought alone you invoke him, jumping a bit when he appears seemingly out of nowhere. Your facial expressions take turns, to say the least. From fright, to surprise, to happiness, to shock, to fright again. He smiles— no. He smirks. He smirks, knowingly, deviously, even as he leans down and takes a bite out of the chocolate ice cream you’d scooped up for Soori. Your eyes fixate on him, eyes narrowing before they land on the multiple pink shopping bags he holds in one hand. 

“Did you buy underwear for a whole village?”

He throws his head back in laughter. “You’d hate that, actually.”

“Correct,” you pause for emphasis, “Jungkook, what the heck?”

“What? They had a good sale going on.”

“Really?”

“Nope.”

“Oh, God.”

“Jeez, can’t I just treat my girl to sexy lingerie?”

You raise a menacing eyebrow at him. “Just me?”

“It’s a win-win, baby. It’s a win-win.”

You smile, unable to deny him as much as he’s unable to deny you. “Can I see?”

He brings the bags closer to his chest and gasps, feigning shock. “These are for my eyes only.”

“Fair enough.”

“You’ll like them, though,” he winks. “I’m starving.”

“I have an idea!”

“Do tell.”

“Let’s go home, I’ll buy us Domino’s Pizza and we can watch a movie, my treat.”

“You’re spoiling me now.”

“Ah, what can I say,” you say, standing up and taking Soori into your arms, her chocolate covered cheeks forming a smile on her face. “I like to share my riches.”

“I’m rich,” he walks closer to you, hand wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer.

You huff, “trust me, we know.”

“Not like that,” he looks at you, arm tightening around you until your feet are hovering above the floor a bit, pulling smiles out of you like it’s easy and that’s the thing, it is easy because it’s him. “Like this,” he says, emphasizing his point with a kiss to your lips, letting you know that he means it.

No doubt in the world that he does.

~

When you first fell in love with writing, it wasn’t much for the idea of storytelling. Instead, that very first spark that turned an interest into a passion came from the purpose of safe keeping memories. If you could keep a moment safe by the immortality of your words, you thought, the inevitability of time could be avoided. Or well, it would make it all worth it, at least, like you lived for a reason. Everything you experienced — whether it was pain, happiness, worry, surprise — it would all come to an end eventually, but your words would remain, etched in time for the sole purpose of proving that it happened. That you were there, alive and feeling and that it was all worth it because your words could now live forever.

You sit on the couch, the living room lights dim, perfectly complementing the atmosphere as the rain falls in incessant showers outside the tall windows. The sound is comforting, a candle burning and the notion of the ocean at such close proximity easing you all over. You can still smell it, you think, mixed with the rain and him.

Him, him, him. 

You smell him on your skin, your hair. You smell him on the hoodie you’d stolen from his closet, the one he’d worn today and discarded before getting in the shower. The scent triggers the muscle memory in your heart and you think of him, a smile escaping you before you can fully make up his face in your mind. The warmth takes up every inch of you and it reminds you of his touch, his arms around you, the sun and the fire and the love you have for him. 

You stop writing, too distracted to string words together now that the thought of him has turned so physical, affecting your ability to do much more than simply think about him. You place your pen in the middle of your journal’s spine, marking the page as you feather through your previous entries. Five days. You’ve been together for five days, four spent in the peace of your little universe. You, him and Soori. And to your luck, and the luck of immortalized moments, you’ve used your words to make sure this memory never leaves you. 

You skim through the pages, smiling when a sentence catches your eye, struggling a bit to understand your own handwriting. 

“It’s early — way too early, and I’m struggling to stay awake. I wish I could go back to sleep, but then again he’s next to me and I can see him, really truly see him when nothing gets in the way of his beauty, when he’s so still I have no choice but to stare, to take him in, to let his face sink into my memory until all I can feel is love. Until his face is stripped of features, no eyes, no nose, no mouth, just love. My love. He’s the sun rising and I’m the need to stop and stare.” 

The weight of your words is overwhelming, a blush creeping up your cheeks and you can feel the way your heart feels warm. You turn a page, laughing at the universal balance of your feelings when you read,

“Jungkook grilled today and I ate three burgers. We made milkshakes for dinner when Soori was asleep because neither of us has the heart to not share with her but Jungkook’s scared of sugar rushes.”

But, oh, what a privilege it is to live an ordinary life with extraordinary people. What a feeling, to experience it all. 

“I sit by the sun, can feel the sand through the towel under me and my body’s still salty and wet from swimming. I hear the sound of the ocean and Jungkook turning the page of a book. I hear how still he is while reading my copy of The Great Gatsby. Soori naps in-between us and I can hear her soft breathing. I write this because I don’t want to forget it.” 

A wave of nostalgia takes over you, like you’re already missing it though it hasn’t fully gone away yet. Your next words ignite a different feeling in you, flushing your chest and sending that original warmth that’d settled on a steady route someplace else. 

“I feel his fingers long after they’ve been on me. My body is exhausted but my mind alert, the stars on my skin he’s left are now mine to safekeep and the way the memory lingers keeps me awake. I’ve never made love before, it feels foreign to me. Are we making love? How would I know? I can’t think of the formalities of much when he fucks me. I can’t put a name to it, only his and whatever his eyes on me makes me feel in that moment. I’m yet to decipher it, though, his eyes on me. More so, what I feel. It makes me want to live inside myself, though I don’t think that makes much sense. It makes me wish I had more control over my body, my thoughts, my feelings, so I could focus on multiple things at once and figure me out. Me when he’s on me, me when he owns me like this, and perhaps his eyes perceive this better. Perhaps I could find it in seeing what he sees when he looks down at me, like that. Like him.”

“Why aren’t you in bed, baby?”

His voice startles you, takes you a while to register it fully, your first instinct to close your journal a bit too abruptly for what it entails. You look up at him, smile when you take him in, your hands itching to touch him, to hold him. His hair’s still wet from the shower, a bit messy, and longer now than when you first met him. You like it like that, you think. In a soft white shirt and gray pants, he looks so soft as he walks inside the living room, hovering by the wall for a second before leaning into it. 

“I was writing, the rain looks nice from the tall windows.” 

He smiles. “We’ll open the blinds upstairs, come on. Wanna watch a movie?”

You nod, uncrossing your legs and holding onto your journal before making your way to him. “What did you have in mind?”

“Lord Of The Rings,” he gives you a toothy grin, pulling you to him as soon as you’re close enough to and you can’t help but bring your lips to his. 

“Never took you for a nerd. I like it.”

“To be honest, I never know what’s going on, I’m just drawn in by the landscapes.”

“Lucy and I watched it once,” you say, pinching your thumb and index finger, pretending to smoke, “under the influence.”

The picture alone makes him chuckle. “Never took you for much of a stoner.”

“Oh, God, I’m not. I ate a subway and a bag of hot cheetos and passed out fifteen minutes into the movie.”

“Damn, baby, that’s weak. Even for you.”

You gasp. “As my boss, you should be delighted by this information.”

“Mm,” he kisses you, “not your boss right now. Actually, not your boss ever. Soori’s your boss.”

“She’s so demanding.”

“I know, right? Will only eat fruit if it’s star shaped now. Wonder whose fault that is…”

“When I get my hands on her…,” you narrow your eyes, shake your head.

“Hey. Easy on my girlfriend right there.”

“That still sounds a bit surreal.”

“What? Me calling you my girlfriend?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, get used to it.”

“Never. It’s funner this way.”

He doesn’t refute your point, secretly agrees with it, still a bit in awe of the word itself. The title. What it entails, what it means, what he gets in exchange of it. Not in an opportunistic way, but simply in letting himself enjoy this new role, surprised at how comfortable he feels in it, how at ease. 

The two of you make your way upstairs, checking on Soori one last time before heading to the bedroom. The bed looks inviting, fluffy duvet begging for you to be inside of it on this rainy night. Lights dim and soft linen smells, the sound of the rain hitting the window as Jungkook opens the blinds and you get in bed, making yourself comfortable and letting your body melt into the mountain of pillows he insists on keeping. He joins you soon after, sighing as he sinks into them, too, remote control in one hand as he extends his other in invitation. You fall into him, letting him wrap his arm around you as you rest your head on his chest, legs finding his under the covers until your body is laced in his. He makes quick work of finding the movie, falling deeper into the comfort of the bed and bringing you closer to him as the beginning credits roll in, landscapes following and he’s right, it’s captivating enough. 

“Wanna go there someday,” you say softly, voicing your thoughts.

“You remember the deal we closed a couple of weeks ago?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“It’s basically land… vast, immense land that looks just like this. I’m building a hotel there.”

You look up at him, “really?”

“Yeah. I’m excited about it. It’s kinda different from the locations we often go for… it feels new, I think it’s gonna work, though.”

“I have no doubts whatsoever,” you tell him, face nuzzling in the soft fabric of his t-shirt before you say, “I’m proud of you.”

He rests a soft kiss on your head, hand gently running down your arm as he murmurs a quiet, “thank you,” against your hair. Soon enough you’re both completely enraptured by the movie, and to your surprise, by the plot, too. Once in a while you steal small glances of him, endeared by his big, shiny eyes in full focus, pink lips slightly agape. Your hands run lazy circles around his chest, and you do it enough so as to lose conscience of it, affection turning into reflex. 

Your touch soothes him, so much so he stops acknowledging it and it simply runs a wave of relaxation down his body, shoulders dropping a bit, body sinking further into the pillows, head falling to the side. You’re warm against his body and he likes it, he likes being able to feel every inch of you on him like this. The movie has most of his attention, but said attention begins to shift focus, unbeknownst to him, like his body has a mind of its own. He thinks it’s an innocent little pull at first, inevitable, if you will. He tries to go back to the movie, eyes fixated on the screen, his brain’s full function on the scenes, but it’s to no avail. He’s now (well too) aware of the way your fingers trace patterns on his chest, the way your leg rests on top of his. The way you smell, the way your tits press into his side as you shift a bit. You exist, next to him, and his reaction is but the collateral damage. 

He begins to shift in place, hand running through his hair as he makes more of a mental effort to quiet down his body and the effect you, very innocently, have on him. He does this for long enough so as to make you notice, frowning against his chest when he sighs. 

“Are you okay,” you ask, looking up at him, “are you uncomfortable? I can move-”

“No, no, no,” he says, voice a bit frenzied, taking you aback even more. “It’s not that, baby, come back.”

You rest against him once again. “Is something bothering you, though? You feel tense,” and when you say this, you run your hand down his arm, nails scraping a bit, and Jungkook lets out a long breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“No, none of that, don’t worry.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” he says, feeling shy all of a sudden, color creeping into his cheeks, “it’s just…”

“What?”

He grows quiet for a second, hand holding onto yours before he starts to guide it down his torso, and you’re almost confused for a second until it gets lost inside the warmth of the duvet. Jungkook rests your hand on top of his cock, over his sweatpants, and you can feel how hard he is. He whimpers softly over your head when you reflexively close your hand around him, feeling the whole weight of his arousal. You look up at him, half-lidded eyes and parted lips, his head leaning back against the pillows as you bring your lips to his neck, kissing once before you whisper a little, “oh,” into his skin. 

“Couldn’t help it,” he says coyly, and you can hear the smile in his voice. 

“Why would you try to help it?” your lips still pepper open-mouthed kisses all over his warm flesh. 

“Dunno,” he shrugs, a whimper that ends in a moan following and he sounds so sweet. 

So sweet, you think. Something about him, about his demeanor right now, docile in your hands, soft-spoken words and little noises as your lips on his skin begin to have an effect on him. You can feel it in the palm of your hand, in the way his hips buck a little with each suckle, silently begging for more but not in any particular rush. 

“Want me to touch you?” you look up at him, at the way his eyes open, still half-lidded and hazy as he nods. Your hand squeezes his length, “here?”

“Yeah, I’d like that— please.”

That word feels like a silent agreement. A nod in the direction he knows you’re eager to take and you waste no time in rewarding him for letting you, for allowing you to take the reigns, for letting you give him pleasure as you please. 

Your hands travel under his sweatpants, lips forming a smile when you realize he’d forgone underwear, cock warm against your small hand as you wrap around it. Jungkook hisses, a whine getting caught in his throat as your thumb circles around his crown, collecting the precum and easing him into the feeling. Your pace is slow, eyes fixated on his cock — on the way his slit leaks when your finger grazes over it, the way he jumps a bit in your hand, so overstimulated already. The noises he makes, sometimes muffled as his face presses against your hair, failed attempts at keeping composure. He tries his best not to fuck his cock into your hand, you can tell by the way his tummy sinks every now and then, hands gripping at the sheets. And when he can’t take the torturous pace you set, so determined on giving the most sensitive part of his cock what begins to feel like an overwhelming amount of pleasure, his hand gently closes around yours, stalling your movements. 

“Please, __— fuck,” his words are a bit frantic, a moan getting caught between them. 

 “What’s wrong, Kook?” you feign ignorance, but he’s in no position to give you a hard time for it. 

“Stroke it, baby, please.”

He sounds so fucked out already, shaky fingers closing around your hand once again and you know he’s fighting internal battles not to guide your movements, to take you where he wants you — how he wants you. 

“It felt like you were so close, though…” 

“Not like this,” his words find him faster than you’d expect, given his state, “don’t wanna cum like this.”

You kiss his cheek, smiling when his face moves closer to yours until you’re kissing the corner of his mouth and his eyes are closing as you finally move your hand, slowly stroking his cock, touch so gentle it makes him sigh. He’s so perfect the need to tell him so becomes too painful to bear. 

“You’re doing so good, Kook. My perfect boy.”

Under any other circumstance Jungkook would pause at your words — not necessarily to second guess them, no, but to process them. To see what they do to him, to what extent they deliver pleasure, all things considered, things being the fact that, well, he’s not a sub. He’s not usually the one melting into praise and dominance so, yeah, under any other circumstance Jungkook would pause. Right now, though, all he can focus on is the way your hand feels so warm and tight around his cock, how it glides so seamlessly because he’s so turned on he’s basically lubricated himself, and how you’re enjoying his reaction to you so much you think he’s perfect. 

Perhaps under no circumstance would he need to pause to know that he enjoys it. More than he ever thought he would. 

“I feel so good right now,” he tempts, head sinking into the pillows as you up your pace a bit. 

“It feels good… to make you feel good,” your wrist twists around him, giving him all the attention he craves, from base to tip and then tighter at the upturn. “To see you be this good,” he whimpers softly at your praise, “you sound so beautiful.”

Jungkook’s chest tightens, your words resounding in places he didn’t know could echo words, sounds — the sound of your breathing, your own moans. Your pace picks up and you rejoice in the way he reacts to your touch. His brows knit together, eyelashes kissing his cheeks and all he can think of is you, almost as if he had you far away and had to rely on memory. Opening his eyes, heavy lids looking down at you as he leans his head to the side, his breathing picking up as he pants. 

Your hand leaves him for only a second but it’s enough to make him hold his breath, eyes following your every move as you bring it up to your face and lick a thick stripe down the palm of your hand. His cock throbs when it wraps around it again and he sighs, so close to the edge he can only hope you’ll play fair. 

Your free hand sneaks under him a bit awkwardly, tapping on his leg to silently let him know what you want. His hips raise as he helps you move his sweatpants down, the waistband now hugging his ass as you free him completely. His cock is red and angry, still leaking for you as your hand begins to move faster, thumb and index finger playing with his head at the end of each push and pull. 

“I’m so close, __,” words soft, a staccato whisper that’s for you only and your name on his lips sounds sugary, like it drips off his tongue. 

You think, a bit selfishly, about playing with him for just a little longer. Putty in your hands and so very yours that you almost don’t want to let him go — to let him let go, but you can’t deny him. Not when he’s been so good. Not when you have all the time in the world to explore, to play. 

“Yeah? Tell me, baby, what else do you want?”

“Play with my balls,” voice still a plead, no demand in it, a bit of a tilt at the end. 

You comply, hand traveling south before you gently roll his balls in your hand, tugging slightly and making him wince, a loud, throaty moan finding him soon after. You look into his face again, a sight to behold, so lost in his own pleasure you think he doesn’t fully hear you when you tell him to kiss you. He proves you wrong, though, lips crashing onto yours as you swallow his pleasure, tongue on his as both your breaths grow heady. 

“God— fuck.” his hand finds yours again, not hesitating before he’s wrapping it back around his cock, stroking once, twice, and setting the pace for you before his own is coming up to your face, fingers gently grabbing your chin and making you look at him. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for me, Jungkook. Please.”

He nods, brows knitted in a frown as he gets so very close, eyes on yours and fighting to keep them open. You feel the way his cock kicks in your hand as you jerk him fast, bottom lip getting caught between your teeth. He grows quiet, a little tense under you and when his lips part in a silent moan, eyes shutting close, he cums, hard —  thick hot shots landing on his tummy and coating your hand as you bring him down. 

He chuckles a little, feeling a bit delirious as your fingers play with the mess you’d both left on his stomach, cock jumping at the mere sensation of your touch on his taut skin, making him hiss and look down. It turns him on a little more than his body can take right now and he opts for closing his eyes, sighing as he sinks his head back into the pillows. 

“That was so good,” he says, voice soft and full of bliss. 

“Mhm.” 

You kiss his cheek once more before your warmth is leaving him, making him frown as he’s about to ask where you’re going. He opens his eyes, sees you reaching for the night table and when you turn around you’re holding onto a handful of tissues. 

You clean him up, and he lets you, his soft gaze following your movements. It feels intimate, the way you do it in silence, your face expressionless but something in your eyes that’s easy for him to read. You tuck him back in his pants, laughing a little when the feeling of the fabric against his sensitive skin makes him gasp, muttering a little, “sorry” his way. When you kneel on the mattress to leave his side, he pulls you by the arm, whining a little. 

“I’ll just go throw these in the trash,” you say. 

“Okay. Thank you, baby.”

You take a minute — makes Jungkook a little antsy for reasons he can’t understand. He hears the faucet go off, hears you wander about the bathroom, giving him enough time to sit with his thoughts. It’s not anxiety —well, it is. It’s not bad, though. It’s more so unfamiliar, to let someone take care of him like this, so lovingly for no other reason than the desire that pulls you to want to love him. To dote on him. It makes his heart contract inside his chest, missing a couple of beats that recover a bit too quickly when he sees you make your way to him. 

He’d been lost in thought, making you smile. 

“Whatcha thinking about?”

“That we haven’t kissed in a while.”

You roll your eyes, but it’s playful and shy, one of his favorite things about you. Your knee hits the bed, crawling towards him and he smiles, growing giddy in anticipation. You find a home over him, knees straddling both sides of his body as you rest on his tummy, careful not to touch any further down as you know he’s still sensitive. 

“Wanna kiss me?”

It’s back, he thinks. That tone you held before, when you were in control of him and his pleasure. No time to pause now either. He nods. 

“Yeah, wanna kiss you so bad, baby.”

He welcomes your lips on his, slow and tender, giving him time to savor the pillowy softness of them. The way you taste, the way you sound — a little worked up, tiny whimpers leaving you — has him convincing himself that he could never get too much of this. Never get too much of you. The way your tongue moves on his has him sighing against your lips, mind elsewhere and all he can take in right now is you. You and how you kiss him. You and how much he wants you already. How much he needs you. 

He moans against your lips, hands coming up to hold onto your hips as he pushes them further away until your cunt sits perfectly on top of his dick. You both sigh.

“You’re hard,” you point out, not fully breaking the kiss. 

“Yeah. Been hard since you straddled me,” he laughs. 

“Thought you’d be spent, you came so hard just now.”

He shakes his head, looking up at you, “want you, baby.”

You grind your hips against his, moaning when the head of his cock grazes your clothed clit. “I want it like this.”

“Yeah— okay,” he gives, kissing you again as he guides your hips the way he knows feels good, aided by the noises his mouth swallows as you moan into his lips. 

You don’t stop when you come up, fully sitting on his cock and making him wish there was less layers between you two. When he looks down he sees the wet patch over the gray fabric of his sweatpants, unsure whether it’d been you or him but turned on by it none the less. He moans at the sight, at the feeling, at the way you look so pretty with your cheeks flushed and your eyes closed, lips parting to moan his name. 

Your hair falls to one side, pretty neck glistening with sweat and he wants to kiss it so bad. He holds his breath as your fingers toy with the hem of the sweatshirt you’d stolen before, promptly pulling it off your body. His eyes widen, lips slightly parted before they’re forming a smirk when you reveal what’s underneath — the result of his little shopping spree a couple of days back. Tonight you’d opted for a lacy, red babydoll and matching panties. The fabric so sheer it barely covered anything, making Jungkook consider himself a very lucky man right that second. 

His hand travels up, palm cupping your breast and thumb caressing your nipple, making you whimper at the feel of his finger through the fabric, a new sensation. Your hips move quicker, hand coming to rest on top of his to encourage his touch, the added stimulation landing right on your lower tummy, making your pussy clench around nothing, clit throbbing with every push and pull of your hips. 

“I’m so close, Kook,” you pant, back arching as you find the perfect pace. 

“Use me, __. Use me to cum,” he gives, lips getting caught between his teeth so hard he’s afraid he’s gonna draw blood. “Fuck, you look so hot, baby.”

You like the two tones his voice takes at his command and praise, the way he’s still perfect in that pliant way but also gives you what your body secretly loves the most. When you cum, it almost feels painful, in that sweet way that finds you when you’re so overwhelmed by the feeling. Your hands crash on his chest, hair falling at the sides of your face before he’s gently pushing it away so he can watch you. 

The air around you shifts just as fast as the switch inside Jungkook turns. 

You’re still catching your breath, so receptive to his every touch that you moan when you feel his cock throb between your legs. He holds onto your face, making you look at him. 

“You did so good, __. Came so good and pretty for me.”

There’s a voice inside your head that tells you to take back control, to bite back and tell him that he was the one being good for you. But your body’s both too spent and too needy for your mind to get cocky right now and deprive it from what it needs the most. 

You nod your head, a little dumbly, at him. He thinks it’s cute. 

He’s pushing his sweatpants back down, legs fully pulling them off his body before his finger hooks down the side of your panties, slowly moving south until his knuckle is grazing over your clit. 

“So wet. So messy.” the pads of his index and middle finger circle your clit, making you whimper as you rock your hips and follow his movements. He pulls his touch away abruptly, pushing your panties to the side before his hand leaves you completely and comes to rest behind his head. “Ride me, __.”

You’re wet enough to brave it, coming up on shaky knees and lining yourself over him. He grabs the base with his free hand, helping you a little and releasing the moment you start sinking into him. He doesn’t miss the way you whimper, eyes closing at the feeling of him stretching you. It burns a bit but you’ve come to find pleasure in the pain, bottoming out as you both moan when he’s fully sheathed inside of you. 

“So big, Koo,” you cry out, and his heart beats particularly soft at your use of the pet name. It almost makes him lose focus, almost makes him fall back into the prior dynamic, a little too worked up from it still. He reckons it’s probably what’s powering his demeanor right now. 

“Yeah,” he sounds, and you don’t miss the way his voice takes on a cocky tilt. “Move, then. Wanna see you bounce on this big cock.”

“Yeah— okay, fuck,” because it feels so good. It feels so good as you jump on him, as he fills you up to the brim and hits your sweetest spots when you bury him all the way inside of you. It feels so good when it all gets to be too much and you have to slow down your pace, grinding against his hips, making him say your name as he hits every inch of you like this. 

You resume your pace, tits moving with each motion against his hips and he can’t take his eyes off of them – off of you. So fucking beautiful as you move over him, giving him what he wants. 

“Good fucking girl,” he praises, voice a bit rough from the way the pleasure consumes him.

“That feels so good. Wanna fuck you– wanna fuck you forever, Jungkook.”

Your words are strangled and he can see how much effort it takes to actually string them together, so very affected by him and the way it feels when he starts moving his hips against yours, fucking you back. 

“You can fuck me forever, baby.”

“Oh my God, I’m so— so close.”

The cry you let out when his hands grab at your hips, pausing your movements, surprises the both of you. You look down at him, glaring when your orgasm goes away, the pleasure taking on a painful nature as your pussy throbs around his cock. 

“Fuck. Why—”

“Want to play with you a bit more, baby. You can take it. You can be patient, can you not?” It’s in your best interest to agree so you nod, frantic eyes looking into his. “Good. Now lose the attitude. I’m gonna make you cum so good, promise, yeah?”

“Y-yeah.”

He holds onto your waist, manhandling you so swiftly you barely register just how he managed to get you on your back in a matter of seconds. He hovers above you, thighs between your legs as he runs a hand through his damp locks and scans his eyes over your figure. 

Jungkook can’t figure out if he wants you fully naked, looking up at him or face down, pressed against the mattress. He doesn’t know if he wants to fuck you hard or take more time with you. He doesn’t know if he wants to tease you or have you coming undone again —and if it’s the latter, does he want it on his tongue or around his cock? 

Decisions, decisions… 

He wraps a hand around his cock, sighing at the much needed attention, smiling when you raise your hips a bit involuntarily in his direction. You make his decision for him, huffing a bit when you see the way he takes one step back away from you. He takes his shirt off before running his hands down your legs, his touch soft but his eyes dark, like he’s plotting. 

“Kookie,” you say, dreamily, ulterior motives lacing your voice, “fuck me, please.”

“Not yet, wanna taste you first.”

He raises your legs, keeping them straight before him as he rolls your panties down your thighs and off your feet, throwing them to the side. You bend them once they’re off, resting them against his shoulder. 

“I’m too sensitive,” you tell him, and something in your voice tells him you’re faking it.

“That so, baby?”

“Mhm.”

“I’ll be gentle.”

“But I want you to fuck me— now.”

Jungkook holds onto your legs, one hand on each calf before he’s bringing them down, resting them against the mattress a bit abruptly and making them fall open for him. 

“Quit being a brat or I won’t fuck you at all.” 

He doesn’t let you answer — not like you’d try, you’ve got too much to lose — finding his place between your legs as he lays down on his tummy. Your pussy’s swollen and red, hole leaking for him and clenching around nothing. He coos, which you’d tease him for if the reaction wasn’t sending a jolt of pleasure down your body, something filthy about it lacing the act. 

“Love your little pussy, baby,” he observes, more to him than to you, marking emphasis in his words by running a finger from your opening all the way to your clit. 

“Please.”

And he can’t deny you. Not when your cunt looks so enticing, when you react to him and he can see it, feel it around his fingers as he pushes his middle one inside of you. You arch your back at the intrusion, a moan passing your lips when his own close around your clit, sucking hard on it in rhythmic little pulses. It doesn’t take him long enough to send you right back to where he’d taken you from just a couple of moments ago, tummy tensing at the threat of your pleasure reaching its peak. 

“I’m gonna— I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that,” you warn him, so obedient it nearly makes him swoon.

He removes his mouth from you, replacing it with his thumb as it draws tight circles against your clit, a bit slower so as to save him time. 

“Yeah, baby, you can cum. What do you want me to do? Tell me.”

“Can you— please, lick my clit.”

His index and middle finger form a V, opening your folds up to him before his tongue comes out to lap at your clit — quick kitten licks that have your hands reaching down to him, fingers holding onto his hair so as to ground yourself but it’s to no avail. 

“Fuck— like that. God, I’m gonna cum.”

It’s blinding, almost. The way it feels, the way your body shakes as you come undone on his tongue. The way he sucks on your clit, prolonging your orgasm, moaning against it when you pull on his hair. The sound his mouth makes when he cleans every drop, chin glistening with your orgasm — it all adds to the sensation, effectively fucked out. 

You pull him up, with little force, until he’s falling back on top of you. You kiss him, a bit deliriously, tasting yourself on his tongue and moaning at the remnants of your high. You push your legs further apart, helping him fall into you, feet on his ass as you bring him closer to you. He sinks his cock into your pussy, moaning at how tight and warm you feel, still pulsing from your last orgasm. 

You’re both a bit more quiet this time around, throaty breaths and pants passing your lips as you find endless places to kiss. Down his neck, on your shoulder and the palm of his hand when he cups your cheek. You sigh when you finally find his lips. They only part when he throbs inside of you, pussy so sensitive you can feel just how close he is. You lose him for a second and when you open your eyes, you see his own fixated on the TV, fighting to stay open.

“In missionary so he can keep watching Lord of the Rings,” you tease.

He looks back down at you, strangling out a laugh that shortly gets caught in a little whine of pleasure. 

“Shut up,” he breathes out, kissing you once again. “Fuck— I’m so close, baby.”

“I can feel it.”

“Yeah?”

You hum, bringing his face closer to you, kissing him and egging him on with sweet, little praises. 

He stills on top of you, pink lips parting in a silent moan before he says, “I’m gonna fucking cum,” pulling out just in time to paint your lower tummy in white, cum dripping down your pussy a little too recklessly to what he’d normally agree to but fuck, he feels drunk right now and the sight is heavenly. 

You laugh. 

“Reconsidering?”

“Yeah,” he answers honestly, with half a brain for anything let alone to lie. 

“Oh, wow,” you say, “love being your girlfriend already.”

He laughs, shaking his head before he’s pressing a kiss against your lips. 

“Me too, baby. Me too.”

~

AAAAAAAAAA. sorry for teasing you guys so hard, i didn’t want to give anything away so i had to lie A LITTLE (or well, refrain from the truth lmaooo). also sorry to the team mingyus, u probably thought the thing about the smut not being about jaykay meant it was with HIM, but i just didnt wanna spoil it!!!!!! anyways. i love you. and like always, thank u for reading. it means more to me than you’ll ever know <3 

[faeriekit]

The Foster Mother

Now on ao3 and VHS release

There was, supposedly, someone waiting for him in the green sitting room.

“…Why?” Tim asked. Most of the usual suspects had already come by to give their “condolences”—former Drakes Industries investors, curious about the newly orphaned heir; fellow socialites, once again flocking in to give and receive sympathies for their “close friends, the Drakes”; gawkers come to see what they could scavenge off of a dead family’s home, never mind that their child was alive.

“She claims to know you, Master Tim,” Alfred offered, kettle in his hand. He spent a moment deciding between different two canisters of tea; a sign of possibly difficult future conversation. “Her interest in your father's estate seemed quite…minimal.”

…Alright.

Tim was still in his formalwear. Dissolving Drake Industries would take at least another year, and plenty of future hours cementing the future home of certain resources in their dissolution, but the outfit probably was more appropriate for whatever oncoming conversation that was about to ensue than his planned change into Dick’s old hoodie and board shorts.

Okay. Tim steeled himself. The self-determination…mostly worked. Whatever. He trudged up into the green sitting room from the kitchen with his usual introduction ready on his tongue.

And then Tim walked into the room.

And then Jazzy was there.

*

Tim had been three, and Miss Jasmine had been his had been his third nanny. He’d outgrown the wetnurse early on, and his second nanny had been dismissed, so although Miss Jasmine was the third nanny, she was first nanny Tim could consciously remember.

She’d had red hair. She’d been very gentle with him.

She got him up in the morning and put him to bed at night; for the first time, there had been someone who sat with him until he was asleep, reading all sorts of books his parents had left to engage him with as an early genius. Then, when those were over and done as promised to his parents, they got unauthorized books from the library: silly books with made-up words, dinosaur books, books about teddy bears and adventures around the world.

Tim hadn’t been allowed to travel the world. Tim hadn’t been allowed a teddy bear. His parents had thought it would encourage undue attachment.

(It had been the same reason he’d never been given a pacifier.)

Miss Jazz had given him a knitted bunny. She’d said her dad had made it especially for him.

The toy’s name was Bunny and Tim remembered him being very soft.

She didn’t smile all the time, but smiles were rewards that were easy to earn. He finished his meal and she smiled. He finished an educational puzzle and she smiled. He was quiet all through her phone call and she smiled, and answered all his questions once she was done.

Jazzy had been the first person in his life who was there all the time. She’d kissed his forehead after the bath and kissed his scraped knees; she’d carried him in his arms when he was tired and sometimes even when he wasn’t. His parents had wanted him to be independent, proactive, and not clingy, but Jazzy had been someone who he could run to from his bed when he’d had nightmares and someone he could cuddle on her lap with when he’d cried.

She was gone when he was seven. He didn’t remember why. His parents had probably never told him, but still; he'd assumed he'd have found out why eventually.

Jazzy looked the same right now as she looked in Tim’s memories, although she was likely no longer a college student at a nannying gig. Her red hair was pulled into a high bun, her dress modest and conservative from her neck to her ankles. There was a backpack beside her foot. She was sitting, one leg crossed over the other, on the high-backed loveseat in the green sitting room.

She looked up when he came in.

Tim. Stopped in his tracks.

It didn’t matter. Jazzy—Miss Jasmine stood up as soon as she saw him, eyes alight with worry. Foggy memories were swimming to the forefront of Tim’s brain. He couldn’t move.

“Tim?” Ja—Miss Jasmine asked, teal eyes raking over his frame. Tim froze where he was. He didn’t move, wide-eyed and terrified for no reason at all when Miss Jasmine got closer to him, at a distance that was more appropriate for a conversation.

She stood there. Watching him. It felt like his mother had just come home from her trips with Dad, and a ghost of old terror wafted through him as he waited for her to decide he’d done something wrong. Her voice got softer. Her eyes got softer. Why was Tim feeling so wrong-footed?? It was only a former staff person!

“Tim?” her voice was so gentle. “I don’t know if you remember me. I’m—“

“M’s Jazz,” Tim croaked. Which. Wasn’t the level of formality he’d been going for, but better than Jazzy. He wasn’t a toddler anymore.

Miss Jasmine was so tall—honestly, was she taller than Bruce? She’d seemed insurmountable as a child; he hadn’t expected her height to truly be so statuesque as an adult.

(Or. Well. Almost an adult.)

She didn’t quite kneel down, but she did stoop lower, as if Tim was small and he needed to be on equal footing in order to have a serious conversation.

He could see all her freckles. Tim swallowed. It was too familiar. Everything about her was too familiar.

“You’re so big now,” Jazzy whispered, looking at his hair, his suit, his polished shoes. He didn’t feel it. “Oh, you’ve grown up so well.”

Thanks, Tim almost said. Something stopped him—something thick in his throat, to impassable to break through.

“I—“ he tried. He coughed. “Why…you… You’re here?”

Jazzy threw him an incredulous look, and then an incredibly wry one. “Well,” she drawled a little too primly, in the way that Alfred occasionally made obvious statements, “I’d think it obvious that when one’s parents have passed away, that those who care about you might come to check and see if you’re alright.”

Which. That didn’t make sense. Jazzy hadn’t come back for any other reason; she hadn’t come back for his mother’s funeral, nor when his father was injured publicly by a villain. Why start now?

“And,” Jazz added, seeing his visual confusion and distrust, “Your parents can’t exactly threaten me with a kidnapping charge for visiting you when they’re dead.” Pause. “Which I am sorry about. My condolences.”

Which. Whiplash. What a statement.

“Uh,” said Tim, who was rapidly losing control over the situation.

Jazzy stood again, and went back to her seat; she didn’t set herself down, though, as she only stooped to grab her backpack. “I am sorry for being unable to visit, although I really wanted to; you were at a very vulnerable age and had already moved into a class a year above you, and your parents should have been less hasty about replacing your main caretaker. The assassination attempts were unwarranted, but they did drive the point home that attempting contact was perhaps discouraged.”

“What,” said Tim. “Assassin what.”

“They were ninjas,” Jazzy offered, as if that was an answer. “Except the last one, which was a former marine. The point is that I do care about you, and wanted to ask if you had any idea where you’re going now that your parents are no longer…available guardians.”

Tim’s mouth opened. It closed.

Jazzy waited patiently.

“…How have you been?” Tim tried, resorting to a part of the script they hadn’t gone through yet.

Jazzy’s laugh was tired, but no less real. It was nothing like listening to his parents titter politely; he didn’t think Jazzy would even know how to fake a laugh. “Well, my brother told me that my former bosses had died, which was somewhat stressful. Otherwise, I’m pretty happy: I live with my brother and worked with him for the last few years. I was going to pursue medicine, but…well. The assassination attempts made it hard to interview for scholarships. I suppose that I could return to that now,” Jazzy mused, attention now elsewhere. She pulled the backpack off the floor and up into her grip. She opened it, and flipped through its contents. “How are you doing? I know that Wayne Manor fosters, but your parents were always rather…hands off. I thought the difference in levels of attention might be overwhelming.”

It was. Tim should be surprised how clearly she sees through him—

—But Jazzy used to watch him stim for almost a full hour after school, twisting Bunny’s arms back and forth until he could calm down. Seeing other people all day had been too much for him. Coming home from his parents’ parties had been similarly stressful.

She’d never been mad at him for it. She held him while he talked and stimmed and talked and talked and talked, and brushed his hair sometimes, or if it was very late and he was very young, helped him brush his teeth through all the medieval execution facts he could name.

“It is a lot to get used to,” Tim agreed quietly. He didn’t want to be ungrateful. He didn’t want to let on anyone about his plan to leave.

He had an out. The papers had already been filed; there was an actor waiting to play his uncle for a custody battle, ready for the fight.

Tim was ready to up and go. It was no hardship to leave all the good things here; anything beat making Bruce stick his fingers into Tim any deeper than they already were, compromising the dynamic they’d already established.

It was for the best.

“I can imagine,” Jazzy sympathized easily. “And I wanted to offer—well. I know there’s probably a lot of choices available to you, but my brother and I recently moved back to Gotham proper for the time being. He’s teaching astronomy courses at the university and I’m filing paperwork for Arkham patients. It’s not so privileged a home, but it’s quieter, and more central in town.”

…Tim’s heart skipped.

He. He couldn’t stop staring. Jazzy stared back at him, quiet and sure. Sure of what, Tim had no idea, but…

Why? Why would she want Tim? There was no way she would be able to get to his trust fund without his help, and he for sure knew better than to enable her ability to leech from him. The last time she’d known him, Tim had been a snot-nosed kid who cried all the time and couldn’t be normal for twenty consecutive minutes. His parents couldn’t even stand to be on the same hemisphere as him as a child. What appeal did this have for her?? What could having a teenager with severe baggage living in her house do for her?

And it’s not like there was any chance she knew he was Robin!

“Oh,” Jazzy suddenly interrupted. “I brought these for you, by the way. Your parents had tossed them out at various points; I’ve washed them since, of course.”

She handed him the backpack by the handle.

…Tim peeked inside.

On top was Bunny, still a washed-out faded sort of pink. He looked as fresh as he had the day when Tim’s parents had ”cleaned out” Tim’s nursery—in other words, a faded, a little gray, and slightly discolored from an old spaghetti stain. His button eyes were big and blue.

And beneath him were books that hadn’t passed his father’s muster as appropriately masculine reading material: The Velveteen Rabbit, with the cover a little scarred from a fierce attack of wet wipes. There’s A Monster at the End of This Book, with a goofy-looking Muppet on the cover, gold spine beat up beyond belief. Art Tim’s teacher at the time must have laminated and sent home; Tim’s dorky, crayon cat proved he would never make it as an artist, but attached to it was a photograph of a grinning boy with a bowl cut and a missing tooth.

Tim stared. There’d been purple marker on his hands and face. His grin looked…really bad, actually, like as if he was baring his teeth because he didn’t know how to smile. There was no formal grace there. Nothing to show the neighbors, nothing worth framing to put into the line of sight of the investors in the office.

Jazzy had kept it and brought it home with her. Jazzy had fished it out of the trash, and brought it with her to give back to him in Gotham.

It was crinkled like it’d been folded, over and over again. Further down in the bag was a crumpled certificate dedicated to “Timmy Drake, for: knowing a lot about octopi”, and a baby blanket Tim didn’t even remember. It had rocket ships on it. It looked as if someone had cut into it with scissors, although it had been obviously and brightly mended with red embroidery floss later on.

Jazzy had only been his nanny until Tim was seven. She had simply been gone one night, and Mom and Dad had been home for ten nights after without help before giving in and hiring Mrs. McIlvane and Mrs. Edith. Ms. Edith had never been so…permissive…with Tim as Jazzy had been.

Tim swallowed. He carefully put everything back into the backpack, unsure if he even wanted to keep it or not. It wasn’t like he could leave it here; he’d be gone, ideally, before the week was out. There was no point in taking it with him if he only planned to live with a stranger until he was eighteen.

“J…” Tim tried. He cut himself off before he could get too informal without prompting. “Miss Jasmine—“

“Just Jazz,” Jazzy corrected politely.

“—Why are you here?” Tim asked, ignoring how she’d technically already answered. He didn’t believe her. “What made my parents fire you?”

Jazzy’s expression turned…soft. Tim couldn’t look at her. Something horrible was welling with it, and he didn’t know how to cope.

“I’m here because I care about you,” Jazz repeated, and knelt beside him. She looked up into his face, and took his hand. Tim didn’t know why. He was practically an adult—he didn’t need this!

“And I was fired because your Mother overheard you calling me ‘Mommy’ on accident when you were tired. I suppose she was insulted, although I’d never know why; it’s not like she was ever home to bond with you in the first place.”

Tim’s throat closed. He missed his mom. He missed waiting up for his parents’ flight home, seeing their headlights outside the window, and knowing they’d bring home gifts from overseas. He missed using Mom’s perfume, and knowing he’d used more of the bottle sitting on her dressed than she ever had, but that it still smelled like her. He missed hearing his Dad telling all sorts of adventure stories and promises through the phone to be home for the holidays, even if Tim knew there was every chance he’d find some other way to spend the time back in Gotham.

And there was some small child in him who missed Jazzy, who hugged him and walked him to the library and made him soup from a can instead of fancy dinners and, who’d never needed to be waited for in the first place.

Tim looked at Jazzy’s round, freckled face.

He swallowed.

Tim moved out before the end of the week, as expected.

[sunlightmurdock]

hands to yourself | dilf bradley bradshaw x nanny!reader (18+)

surprised with an afternoon to himself, bradley takes advantage of the alone-time, thinking about the woman he can’t have.

warnings: shameless pwp, bradley is down bad for his nanny and hasn’t touched himself — or anyone — in a long ass time. masturbation, pining, swearing, fantasising about oral and such. voyeurism, kinda, he gets walked in on. I may write a part two for this but idk yet. I just needed to write a lil smth about him touching himself. Wc: 3k

this is the lingerie set I was thinking of but imagine whatever ya like x

…

Bradley drops his keys into the bowl by the door, they land with a stark rattle. The faint tan-line between his brows disappears into the crease that caused it as he frowns. He looks towards the stairs, and then wanders in the living room. His boots tap softly against the floor.

“Kids?” He calls out into the unfamiliar quiet.

Nothing. His eyes widen in slight panic, pushing his sunglasses up into his hair as he looks around him. The floor is spotless — their toys are stored neatly in their bins, there aren’t any new stains on his rug, and there aren’t any cartoons on his television.

The sound of his boots on the ground are unnerving; he can’t bring himself to admit that he misses the sounds of chaos he usually returns to. He wanders through the house, making a beeline for the backyard. Sunny day like this, he figures that’s where he’ll find them.

Nothing. The yard is completely empty beside the laundry hanging out to dry. His mouth feels dry.

Once the mid-day mind fog dissipates, Bradley’s panic starts to, too. That birthday party. You’d mentioned it twice this week already, and once this morning. He’s just forgetful at the minute — — you know how crazy work has been for him.

He pauses, standing in his unusually clean living room, and purses his lips. His hands come to rest on his hips while he looks around him. He isn’t used to this.

Usually, within seconds of him walking through the door, he’s got a kid attached to his leg or a fight to break up or a permission slip to sign.

There’s nothing that he needs to do.

Nothing urgent.

Nobody else home.

Lifting his wrist, he takes a quick glance down at his watch and considers what to do with his sudden freedom. Birthday parties take a couple of hours, right?

He takes one final look around him, his eyes catching on the laundry drying outside. Clipped to the line is a power-blue balconette bra. He’s seen it before. The day he accidentally walked in on you.

Since you moved in four months ago, Bradley has been especially careful about knocking first. He wishes he could say it’s because he’s a gentleman. Really, it’s just because it made it hard enough for him to keep his hands to himself the first time.

There had been a heatwave that week. You had the afternoon off but Bradley hadn’t been able to find the sunscreen, and his kids are damn near impossible to keep out of the sunlight. With them arguing downstairs and trying to figure out the lock to let themselves out, he just wasn’t thinking and he hadn’t knocked.

“Hey, do you know where you put the—“ He’d stopped, frozen, taking in the sight of you sprawled across your bed. His bed. The bed he gave to you when you got the job of living here. A red popsicle between your lips and a book propped open in front of you, wearing nothing but a powder-blue set.

“Oh—“ Your eyes had gone all wide and surprised, too shocked to move, just like him.

The only thing that reminded him that he even had the option to move was the sound of his son running up the stairs to hurry this process along. He had slammed the door shut, blushing furiously, and turned to face his eldest.

“Found it, dad! It was in my backpack.” Grinning, he had held up the bottle of sunscreen and Bradley had just been forced to continue with his afternoon like he hadn’t seen anything at all.

When he finally peels his eyes away from the line of drying clothes outside, his gaze lands on the basket of dried and folded laundry sitting on his kitchen counter ready to be put away. Sitting right on top, is a glossy looking pair of blue panties that match the bra on the line.

Bradley’s already been kicking himself for his behavior since you got here. It’s downright shameful, the things he lets himself think about you. You’re half his age, first off. Second -- he’s your boss. You live in his house. His kids think you’re their best friend.

They think you’re just here because you love hanging out with them so much, not because their mommy and daddy couldn’t get along for the life of them and daddy works too much.

His mouth waters. Staring at some blue lace in a laundry hamper and his mouth’s practically watering. He’s pathetic. His guy friends keep telling him he needs to get back in the game, start moving on — he hadn’t been so sure. But then, he’s never almost popped a hard-on over a thong in a pile before.

He can picture you so perfectly in them. Your round ass barely covered by the material, legs kicked up behind you and your ankles crossed. When he closes his eyes, he can picture you facing the other way. Your face toward the headboard, your ass right in front of him.

His slacks grow tighter as his neglected cock stirs to life. It occurs to him that he can’t remember the last time he jerked off. Maybe sometime before his middle kid got the flu? — Around a month ago, maybe. His nights since then had been primarily spent clearing up puke.

The sad part is, the thought only tends to occur to him when he’s at work. Home is always far too hectic. For a while now, he’s been stuck working late into the night with a boner while he’s flicking through candidate paperwork and flight logs.

Well, he’s thinking about it now, and he’s got the place all to himself. No locking himself in the bathroom and letting the shower run, trying to think of anything but the growing list of chores he has to do to keep this house functioning.

He swallows thickly.

He’ll tell the guys that they’re right. He needs to get back into the game; get his head on right, stop pining over his nanny. Tomorrow. For now, he lifts his hand and takes the underwear, smoothing the sheer mesh between his index and thumb. Closing his eyes, he hopes that you won’t notice they’re gone before he can return them.

He twists the cap off of an ice cold beer, leaves his boots neatly by the door and walks calmly upstairs. From there, he clicks his bedroom door shut and steadily takes himself out of his uniform, dropping it into his laundry hamper.

Finally, he settles down against his headboard with his phone in his hand and your panties in his lap.

Porn will make this better. It’s less weird if he’s not necessarily picturing your face. It’s not — but he might have a better chance at looking you in the eye later if he tells himself that.

Not that any of this feels exactly regular.

He inhales and shifts, and scrolls. Birds are still tweeting outside, singing early afternoon songs. His teeth nip at the inside of his cheek as he scrolls aimlessly until he finds a thumbnail that looks halfway doable.

All alone, the house feels especially quiet when the first moan spills from the speakers. He flinches at the sound and scrambles for the volume button, then hesitates. He doesn’t have to be quiet. He doesn’t even have to be ashamed. Shit, it’s a little late for that.

His brows knit together a bit, cocking his head as he examines the babbling girl on the phone screen. His hand stirs to life from where it had gone limp on his thigh, finding his cock through the grey fabric of his boxers. With one last cautious glance to his closed bedroom door, the silence beyond it confirms to him that he’s okay.

Wetting his lips with his tongue, he strokes himself over the material. The video isn’t particularly interesting, not when Bradley’s head can fill itself with far more interesting material at whim. His mind starts to wander back to that dream he’d had of you in the nurses outfit— that one had hit him hard, literally. He could barely look in your direction without getting hard for two days.

Soon enough, he’s hard and straining against the briefs. But that’s thinking about you, and that’s not allowed. He shifts restlessly and goes back to scrolling, palming himself absently. Finally, he comes across a video that sparks something. The thumbnail is of a girl with swollen lips and a cock in her mouth. It’ll do.

There we go. He huffs, that red-hot desperate feeling spreading down his neck and covering his shoulders. Making like it’s going to swallow him whole. Bradley lifts his hips to shuck down his boxers, tucking the waistband under his balls, still prepared for a hasty recovery at the sound of the garage door opening or something. He glances down at himself, remembering the days his thighs were narrower and more taut and he wasn’t noticing grey in his pubes.

If he wanted this done quick and fast, he’d spit hard into the centre of his palm and get to work. It’s been a long time since it hasn’t had to be quick. He thinks he has— he turns a bit and pulls open the drawer of his bedside table, rummaging blindly at the back until he comes up with what he’s looking for — lube. It’s practically full, not like he has been using it much.

A drop in the middle of his hand is enough, he figures. Turning his attention back to this new video, he settles, cupping the weight of his shaft in the palm of his hand. He gives it one slow pump, following the length, coating himself a bit. Real slow, his eyes study the screen, working the lubricant against his skin.

The actress bobs her mouth around the on-screen cock enthusiastically, moaning around him, raking her fingertips along his thighs. He locks his fist around himself, warm and tight, wet. It’s not a mouth but it’s the closest he has felt in a long time. If he closes his eyes, it could be your mouth.

You’d take him slowly, at first, ease him into it with that taunting nature you’ve let him glimpse at. He wouldn’t close his eyes; wouldn’t take ‘em off you. His hand steadies into a lazy rhythm, picturing the way you’d look up at him through your lashes.

The way you’d suck, and flick your tongue across his swollen tip. He shivers as he swipes his thumb through the precum beading there, stroking it all the way back down, stuck on imagining what it would feel like with your saliva joining the mix.

A pleased, feminine hum of approval comes from his phone and Bradley’s body responds just as eagerly, his hips twitching into the thrust of his palm. Sweat beads at his forehead as he slows to the point of almost stopping, dragging this out — making a point of exploiting his time alone.

He blinks hazily and finds a glimpse of blue, remembering suddenly the souvenir he had taken. The pitiful scrap of fabric he’s so wound up over sits against his thigh, looking suddenly small in comparison to his cock. He lets himself go and grabs hold of the fabric firmly, balling it tightly in his fist.

The soft lace bristles at his palm. Freshly laundered, they don’t smell of anything but detergent. It plays to the weaker side of him, gnawing at him, leaving him desperate to have something beyond what’s in his head. To know your smell, your tastes, your sounds. He shudders as he wraps a hand snugly around himself once more, this time, with an added layer of lace and soft mesh.

His head falls backwards, mouth hanging. Like this, it’s even easier to pretend. The image of you straddling his thighs, rocking your pussy against him while wearing nothing but these has him finally relaxed. Zen, even. A groan dies in his through, coming out more as a deep and baited sigh. He lift his hips, fucking into his fabric tangled fist.

Sometime between picking up your panties and now, the video has moved on without him, the blowjob forgotten. If he was to open his eyes, he would find that she’s on her back, being fucked into a mattress. He doesn’t need to. Stars burst behind his eyelids as he steadies up to the rhythm of her moans, skin hitting skin.

You’ve been living here four months now and you haven’t stayed out once. He wonders if you’re as wound up as he is. If you’ve thought about him the way he thinks of you. How downright desperate you’d sound moaning against his pillows while he finally gets to feel you. His left hand jumps, grabbing a firm fistful of the sheets beside him.

The shame he feels has been checked at the door, he lets himself think that you might have looked at him, that you might want him. He chases the feeling, his chest heaving with heavy breaths. Pumping the blue mesh around his cock, imagining you rocking yourself on him. Something gentler, more spry. It feels good. You’d feel good.

His imagination is better than he gave himself credit for.

His wrist twitches and he slows, feeling his thighs tighten as his heels press into his mattress for leverage. He chokes out a sound that he won’t admit is closer to a whimper than anything else, panting hard as he lets the rush ebb a bit. Pursing his lips, he draws out a slow exhale.

His mouth hangs open, eyes dipping to watch himself loosen up with the material, finding himself with just his bare palm once again. He takes the blue fabric in his left, opening it up and examining the dampened marks of his precum and the lube.

Just like that, he’s back in the guest room — your room — and you’re wearing that blue set. It’s dampened like this, but not because he has made a mess of it, not yet. Because you have. You’re soaking through it, looking up at him with that awe-struck look on your face. Your mouth open wide but this time there’s no red popsicle.

“Fuck.”

“Shit.” You whisper, catching the diaper bag that had almost fallen from your shoulder as you cradle the sleeping infant against your chest. Quiet as a mouse, you click open the front door and toe off your shoes.

She’s dead-weight in your arms, probably drooling on your shoulder. Her two older siblings will be causing all kinds of mischief and consuming sugar in all of its forms at their cousin’s birthday party for the next three hours. Given that the party lines up almost exactly with the fifteen-month-old’s nap routine, you figured you would take her home to rest so that you could get around to putting away that laundry you had started.

You’ve got a thousand things on your mind. A million things to do before Bradley gets home that evening. Truthfully, you’re a thousand miles away as you stroll upstairs and walk to the far end of the hall to the nursery. You lay her down and adjust the baby monitor, setting up her white noise machine routinely.

Her bedroom door clicks shut behind you and you take a moment to consider your priorities. Laundry takes precedence, even though you want so desperately to crawl into bed and sleep for an hour. You huff, groaning to yourself as you walk back downstairs to find the basket you had abandoned.

As you round the stairs and walk through the hallway, a choked sound spills from under the wood of Bradley’s door, something deep and breathless. Already halfway to the kitchen, you don’t hear a thing.

The video stopped a while ago but Bradley had stopped watching it even earlier. His head is thrown back and his lips are parted, his features creased in concentration as he chases his high. He thrusts into his fist, white-knuckling your panties with his free hand, his heart thundering in his chest. “God, fuck.”

He doesn’t have a clue that he isn’t alone anymore. He didn’t hear the minivan, he didn’t hear the front door. He doesn’t hear you rush back up the stairs with the hamper hiked against your hip.

He walked in on you. He stopped, and he stared. You were interrupted, so you can’t blame him for slamming the door shut. He’d missed, or ignored the signals since. The looks, the touches, staying up with him until your eyelids are so heavy that they’re barely open because he’s kind of an insomniac. Nothing. You’ve been beyond curious, desperate to know if he has been blowing you off on purpose or if he’s just clueless.

Clueless yourself, armed to put away freshly folded t-shirts, you grab the door handle and push it open. He works late, always. He’s rarely home before bedtime on work days. He told you this morning that he’d try not to wake you when he came in. And yet — there he is.

You get a glimpse of him before he registers the click of the door, before he spots you. Brows furrowed, eyes screwed shut, his curls dampened and hugging his forehead. Sunlight catches on the beads of sweat as they trail his glistening middle, spilling across his strong, softened middle. Broad shoulders flexed, the veins in his right arm straining through the skin, fucking his palm.

He reacts quickly, but there’s little that can be done. His eyes spring open and his hand releases himself, his body flushing a deeper shade of red at once. Thighs spread, he doesn’t have much time to cover himself before the door whips shut again.

You press your back to the door, staring at the ceiling. On either sides of it, you each have a moment of silent consideration.

“… are you okay?” He asks weakly.

He gets a soft squeak of acknowledgement as an answer and starts to wonder how you’ll ever be able to talk to him again. God, he hopes you don’t quit. The kids love you, and you’re incredible, you make his life liveable. His mind races, trying to come up with some kind of way to fix what you just saw. Everyone masturbates, it’s normal, it’s healthy—

“Was— Was that my underwear?”

Shit, Bradley thinks, he’s done for. There’s no coming back from this. You’re going to tell every nanny in the state that he’s a creep and work is going to eat him alive while he tries to juggle three kids alone. He curses breathlessly, fixing his underwear to cover himself and pushing himself out of bed.

He’s stuck for a second, considering if it would be better to give you time or to go after you. His eyes widen as the door clicks again, and pushes slowly open.

Your eyes rake over him, standing tall at the foot of his bed in nothing but his boxer-briefs. Still, regrettably, balled into his left hand, is your underwear. Powder-blue. He follows your gaze and looks down at the fabric, cursing his own stupidity, wondering if it’s too late to drop them.

You wet your lips with your tongue as your gaze flickers across. He closes his eyes and wills it to go away — he had just been so close, so caught up in it. It’s still rock hard, straining against the grey fabric, dampened at the tip with a spot of precum.

All of those signals and efforts come to a head. After four months of pining, you can’t just wander downstairs like this never happened. Laundry can wait. “You want a hand?”

…

tags: @royal-sunflower @redbarn1995 @atarmychick007 @jessicab1991 @seitmai @bellaireland1981 @roosterbruiser @tenderly-hopeful-collection @bradshawsbaddie @tgmavericklover @cevansbaby-dove @lyn-js @mynameismckenziemae @perpetuelledaydreaming @diorrfairy @sparklehippie17 @heatherbabees @prettiewittie @forgiveliv @oleksiak-pettersson @illegalxhood @fantasticpeacestarfish @rockstxr-x @d0main-expansion @diorsmores @mydarlingrose @sticksticklettuxe @alrightyyaphrodite @bowchickawowowww @aquafairy777 @eternallyvenus @maxwell-era @devil-angel-winchester @roosterishot @rosiahills22 @literally-iconic @brinaaa10 @foggyturtleknightangel @a-serene-place-to-be @aragorn-02 @sunflowercharlie13

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[harstyle]

the styles' nanny: part two

Summary: Harry finally realizes his mistake, but is it too late? Featuring a strange encounter with Jamie’s mother, another sad drinking session and an unfiltered conversation that changes everything.

Pairing: plussize-nanny!y/n + older-singledad!harry

Word-count: 10.2k

Warnings: age gap (13 years), mentions of alcohol and drinking, kissing, mentions of sex

here’s part one!

A/N: guys!!! It’s been three months!!! I hope you haven’t completely lost interest in this story :( I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting for so long, I just didn’t expect so many things to come up (plus somewhere along the way I lost motivation). I also hope you enjoy this second and (at least for now) last part. No smut, but maybe in a blurb/oneshot of some kind? Anyway thanks for waiting and happy reading!

—

I’m resigning. I will stay until we find a replacement but not longer than necessary. I thank you for your generosity during my time working for you, but I’m ready for a fresh start as I think it’s what would be best for me right now. 

I’ll see you soon,

Y/N

That was the text Harry had received at 11am, just one hour ago. He’d called profusely, probably ten times in total, and had sent out a pathetic amount of text messages that had all gone ignored and unanswered. 

Harry had lashed out— he could see that now; he’d been horribly unfair and he had taken advantage of Y/N’s inability to express herself in situations of distress. Harry’s worst trait was his short-temperedness and while he had gone through years of therapy to work on it, sometimes it took ahold of him in ways he couldn’t realize until after the fact.

Of course the last thing he’d wanted was for her to resign, which was exactly why her message had twisted his stomach a bit more intensely than he would’ve liked; he had no idea how to rectify this situation. Most things in his life went as he wished and if they didn’t, he found it was easy to make it so they did. But not now— no, he had to think about this carefully.

It had turned one when his phone rang; he was typing away in his office, trying to distract himself.  Her caller ID flashed on his screen, but it wasn’t her voice that caught his ears— it was a man’s. A man’s whose name was Andrew.

“I’m from the viper,” he said, and Harry could swear he started seeing red, “your friend Y/N got a little too drunk for me to feel comfortable sending her away on her own. Is there any way you could come pick her up?” 

Harry couldn’t help the string of curses which left his mouth as he gathered his house key. “Is she okay?” He asked, only to receive a conflicted hum. 

“She had too many martinis and she was crying earlier. She said something about a fight.” 

“Yeah, okay. Thanks, man. Will you keep an eye out until I get there?” 

“Of course.” 

As Harry got into his car, he felt the overwhelming urge to chastise her, to keep talking until she finally listened to him when it came to her own safety. Not even one day had passed since he’d had to pick her up the last time— no lesson learned, no regrets.

But then, as he neared the bar, the rational part of his brain advised him against it. Y/N was no child, she was aware of her actions and she knew what was best for her— so for Harry to act high and mighty would be wrong and uncalled for.

He needed to just be there for her. Drop the barrier and be there.

He was ready to offer that to her.

—

Y/N could swear her eyes were playing tricks on her. It wouldn’t be unrealistic, really, her vision had become blurry about an hour ago— but, well, she would probably recognize that silhouette anywhere. He wore jeans and a shirt and his hair was still styled for work; Andrew was pointing at her, and so his green eyes followed. When he spotted her, Y/N felt naked under his gaze.

And before she knew it, he was walking toward her.

“What are you doing here?” She demanded, lower lip jutted out in a pout. Y/N had gone drinking in the hopes of distracting herself— and yes, maybe it wasn’t exactly working, but it definitely wouldn’t start working if he was physically here.

“Andrew called me. Stand up, I’m taking you home.”

Andrew was somebody she‘d met a few hours ago. Originally he‘d flirted with her, asking questions about her as she sat at the bar willing to answer all of them soberly— but once eleven had struck, all she could talk about was Harry. Y/N wasn’t fond of airing out dirty laundry so she‘d left the gory details of their fight out, but Andrew knew of a fight.

She was starting to regret it now that Harry was here.

Instead of doing as he’d asked— or ordered, more like, she leaned into the booth further.

“No.”

His eyebrow raised, “no?”

“I don’t leave or go out with dickheads. You taught me that.”

He looked ticked off and it satisfied something within her that had been needing it all night. When he breathed a sigh, eyes closing momentarily, she knew she had him.

“Y/N, would you please humor me and let me take you home? We can keep talking in the car, but not in front of these people.”

“What if I don’t want to go home, huh? Why are you always telling me what to do like you have the right? You’re not my dad.” Her words were slurred and her expression loose. Then she laughed to herself, giggled actually, ridiculously loud. “That’s funny, of course you’re not my dad cause he’s dead! Dead, six feet underground, you know? Probably lower, cause he definitely didn’t go to heaven! He’s, like, really deep underground.”

Concern warped his features.

“Y/N,” he warned, “please.”

She’d turned heads.

“But you know what you and my dad have in common? Yelling. Just yelling, for no fucking reason— yell yell yell, make it feel like my fault even though it isn’t. Right? That’s what my dad used to do to my mom, you know that? That’s why he’s in hell.” 

She was pointing an accusatory finger at him, slurring even more than before.

“And you know what I said to her when she left him? That I would never let a man treat me that way. Never! Promised, hand on my heart and everything, I promised. But you’re different, aren’t you? Cause I like you, cause you’re not like my dad.” Her face fell again into the surfaces of her palms, “you’re not like my dad, but you reminded me of him. And I feel— feel like I’m betraying my mom.” Y/N hiccuped quietly, stumbling over a few words.

The gravity of her words were not lost on him— in fact, he’d never felt as guilty in his life.

“Hey,” he beckoned her to look at him, placing his tentative hand atop her arm, “we’ll talk about it. About everything. But not now. Not here.”

“You’re so confusing, you know that? One second you’re really nice to me and then— and then you aren’t.”

“Sweetheart,” he grasped her face as a last attempt to catch her undivided attention. Harry thumbed at her cheek and stared dutifully into her clouded eyes, “let me take care of you tonight. I’ll make it better.”

In all fairness, she’d lost the fight the second his eyes had met hers. There was something about them, maybe their deep shade of green or how effortlessly she could read them, that could probably persuade her into doing anything.

“Fine,” she mumbled after a minute, letting Harry wrap an arm around her waist as they walked. On their way out Y/N said goodbye to Andrew and stayed quiet otherwise, choosing to give Harry the silent treatment. Harry knew he couldn’t expect her to speak to him, so he didn’t force it.

As they drove, Harry couldn’t help glancing over every once in a while to study her expressions. There was barely a moment she wasn’t staring out the window watching cars drive by; even when his hand instinctively landed on her thigh she didn’t react, only moving it away slightly from his touch.

“Are you driving me to my apartment?”

And although both of them knew he’d really been directed toward his house, Harry still pretended to have chosen to take another route. “Course,” he muttered hoarsely, trying to mask his embarrassment with a quiet cough. Y/N sighed, her eyes pressing shut for a moment as she tried to let the guilt roll off of her back. He doesn’t deserve your sympathy.

“Where’s Jamie?”

He clicked his tongue. “Still at my mother’s.”

“Oh.”

The stubborn thing she was, Y/N refused Harry’s help getting out of the car. Instead she opened the door by herself, almost tripped when she jumped down from her seat and kept a distance anyway. Harry still watched, though, ready to help if needed.

Y/N unlocked the door (failing to find the keyhole several times) and kept it wide open for Harry to follow behind. The first thing she did was toe off her shoes followed by falling into bed.

“Y/N, have some water.”

“Stop telling me what to do,” she uttered, but accepted the glass of water anyway.

He ignored her. “Are you hungry?”

“I’m tired.”

“You can sleep as soon as you’ve changed and washed your face.”

She groaned, pulling a blanket over her head, “Harry…”

“Y/N.”

That stern mention of her name was enough to get her out of bed, limbs pretty much hanging loosely from her body as if she had no control over them— and honestly, it felt like she didn’t. Her eyes closed as Harry wiped a cool cloth over her face, ridding it of a light layer of makeup and sweat, everything that had accumulated at the bar. There were times she leaned into him, forehead falling to his shoulder and arms wrapping instinctively around his waist for support. She could swear that for a moment he’d pressed his lips to her forehead, but the daydream she was in barred her from really registering it.

“Why’d you go out drinking again?”

“Wanted to.”

“Told you not to do that. I meant it.”

“Well people keep hurting my feelings,” she mumbled, “and drinking your pain away is kind of a tradition in my family, so.”

Y/N had never really shared personal details about her family to Harry, but… well, the words were flowing right out of her mouth and the memories reincarnated newly in her head. She was referring to her mother, the former alcoholic in the family. Growing up her mother had drunk so much that she’d almost died from liver failure. As a small child Y/N had promised herself never to end up like her, but she was starting to understand more and more why her mother spent so many years drinking.

Harry‘s thoughts stayed internalized, but he made sure to make her feel heard. Rubbing over the top of her eyebrow, his breath hit her forehead as he spoke,  “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You didn’t deserve it.”

Her eyes peeked open, the previously warm towel no longer warm. Harry ran it under water again. “Deserve what?”

“Everything, especially the way I behaved earlier. I should’ve taken a moment to myself, instead I lashed out on you.”

It wasn’t until now that Y/N noticed the close proximity between her and Harry— obviously she knew he was cleaning her face for her, but it didn’t really click until now, she supposed. She could see everything, but it didn’t really matter; there was nothing about Harry, especially on him, that could deter her from thinking of him as the most beautiful man alive. Imperfections and all.

The towel met her neck this time, the other side held upright by his steady hand. She could feel his thumb tracing shapes on the surface of her skin and although she was trying very hard not to think of him in any inappropriate way, the image of his hand wrapped around her throat awakened something horrible within the confines of her intoxicated mind. It stayed there.

It was self destructive how often she spent thinking about him, really.

“You still there, baby?”

And he was so gentle— whenever he wasn’t yelling at her, of course— and soft, knowing the lines of what she could handle and what she couldn’t. No man had ever been this considerate and while it may just be his nature, it meant everything to Y/N. As the boundaries had begun to blur more and more, it became easier to misinterpret normal gestures for something more, something so much realer than it could ever be.

But he was calling her baby, and nobody had done that before.

“Yeah.”

“You were much more mouthy back in the bar,” he breathed out, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t wanna yell at me anymore?”

“No, I‘m not like you.”

“Ouch.”

Harry was humoring her and while it was really really nice; this whole thing, the gentle touches and the giggles shared in between a serious conversation, Y/N couldn’t let it get to her head.

“You were really mean to me and I didn’t do anything.”

His eyes searched for hers, but hers were stuck to his chest. “I know. I don’t know how to make it up to you, but I’ll spend a long time trying, I promise. You’re so sweet to me, so nice, I don’t mean to hurt your feelings. You know that, right?”

And although her heart was still furiously bleeding out, she was willing to ignore that for now. Throw bandages on and refuse a trip to the hospital because really she was just fine. There was just something about how he spoke to her that made it feel like she was floating— like she really was fine. 

“Yeah.”

“Good, it’s very important to me that you do.”

Y/N’s eyes nearly glazed over when she thought about Harry being like this on the regular. It was a dangerous game they were playing.

 “Look at me,” he breathed, beckoning her to do so with the grip he still had on her throat. Her eyes looked so innocent in this moment and although Harry knew Y/N was nothing if not tainted, she looked like she’d never been touched by the realities of life. “So pretty, you know that? So beautiful.”

She felt smaller in his gaze. “You think so?”

Y/N didn’t think anyone had said that to her ever. Nothing of the sort.

“I know so.”

“Thank you.”

“How about we go find you something comfortable to sleep in, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Y/N shook her head, willing to rid herself of this weird tension in her body before allowing Harry to lead her back into the bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed as Harry retrieved some clothes and looked up at him expectantly when she could barely keep upright.

“You sure?”

“I physically can’t stand up, Harry.”

And though he looked torn, he ended up reaching for her sweater to pull it over her body, revealing the lacy bra she hid underneath. Y/N’s breasts had always been the biggest ones amongst her skinny friends and growing up she often felt ridiculed for it, though she supposed she could count on Harry not to judge. They were just there, so why pretend like they weren’t?

For Harry, taking off Y/N’s sweater was a completely different experience and although he didn’t wish to be a creep, he couldn’t help but letting out an awkward but knowing cough when he accidentally stared right down them. He hastily threw the shirt he’d brought her onto her torso, scared of what would happen if he were to delay it any longer. Harry prided himself on being a respectful man, but being with Y/N had always tested that quality of his.

“What?” She asked, a touch of feigned innocence to her tone, and he rushed to shake his head.

She knew what.

“Nothing.”

“M’kay.”

“Stand up for me?”

Y/N felt less amazing about her thighs, to be frank. She couldn’t really explain it, but they weren’t visually pleasing to her; cellulite littered the back of them and she obviously didn’t have a thigh gap, but that had become less of an issue. Y/N felt like her thighs had no real redeeming quality. It was a destructive way of thinking, she would admit, but… well, she’d carried that around since childhood.

As Harry pulled down her jeans, she felt void of anything. She didn’t exactly feel great, but better than when other guys had taken off her trousers. It was probably his age. She figured maturity increased as age did, and if Harry were to dislike the look of her body, he would be graceful about it.

“Hold onto my shoulders and lift your right leg.”

He got on his knees in front of her, pulling one leg in after the other. After doing so successfully, he allowed her to get under the covers.

“I’m still mad at you,” she mumbled into the covers, eyes fluttering to a close.

He hummed, “I know.”

“But thank you.”

“Don’t have to thank me for taking care of you.”

“Mhm,” she breathed, “it’ll be the last time, I promise.”

Sleep was pulling at her eyelids.

“Last time what?”

He received no answer. Upon a closer look, he saw Y/N completely overtaken by sleep. Her lips were situated in a pout and her foot peeked out of her thick comforter in the way he had already seen last time he’d brought her to bed.

He allowed himself more time to watch over her this time, scared that if he were to leave it would be the last he saw of her. The anxiety settled on his chest in heavy waves and the image of a precious Y/N was slipping further away from his mind. He had been a horrible person, allowing himself to become the type of man he’d always tried not to be… and he couldn’t do that to her. He couldn’t let this be that with her. He couldn’t bare it.

Harry had always thought of himself to be tattooed with imperfections. As he stared down at Y/N’s sleeping body, he couldn’t help the guilt that wrapped around him like a torture blanket. To him, she was perfect. She was kind and beautiful, she carried her heart out on her sleeve and overcame her past to grow in spite of painful trauma.

What he didn’t know, though, was that she thought the same of him. She thought of him as the most capable person, strong and kind. Her heart yearned for him in ways no one could comprehend.

She thought of him as everything but instead of embracing it, he’d pushed her away… and now both of them had to suffer the consequences.

—

Harry had stayed the night, but he hadn‘t slept; he‘d spent the night lying on Y/N‘s uncomfortable couch with various thoughts swirling around in his head. At eight he‘d stood up, started preparing breakfast and wasted time looking through social media to distract himself from the girl sleeping in the next room.

Y/N slipped out thirty minutes later, surprised when she saw Harry moving through her kitchen as though he knew it like the back of his hand. She coughed, not knowing where to put her arms and folding them in instead.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he tried to smile, “I hope you’re hungry, I made you a bagel with eggs if that’s okay.”

“That’s… yeah,” she swallowed a lump in her throat, stepping close to the counter, “thank you. You didn’t have to.”

“My pleasure. You—“ he pointed at the side of her face, “you have something there.”

“Oh, I—“ Harry reached forward to swipe at it, wiping his finger clean on his trousers and stroking her cheek once for good measure. “Thanks. Probably toothpaste.”

“Probably.”

Silence decorated their next few seconds, awkward glances and uncomfortable tension felt down to the bones. Then Harry straightened up and breathed in, simultaneously Y/N opened her mouth.

“I—“

“Are you— oh, sorry.”

“No, you go on,” she urged, waving a dismissive hand at him.

Harry smiled, “are you okay?”

“Uh, yes. Yeah, I am actually. Bit of a headache but that‘s expected. Thanks for…picking me up, I guess. I didn‘t want to be a burden, but I kind of told Andrew about you and he got a hold of my phone…“

Harry’s eyebrows drew together, “no, I’m glad he called. You should always reach out to me when you’re in trouble.”

“Yeah, but last time didn’t go over very well, so…”

Harry cleared his throat. “Right, I’m sorry about that. I was out of line, but that doesn‘t mean I don‘t want you to call when you need help getting home. There’s nothing more important than your safety, Y/N.”

“Yeah, but…” Y/N shook her head, overwhelming thoughts swirling endlessly inside rendering her speechless. There wasn’t anything she could say to efficiently express these concerns to him— Y/N had always been bad at communication and the last thing she wanted was to poke the bear even more.

“No go on, tell me.”

“I just… I don’t know. I felt like shit after last time.”

“I know,” he breathed out lowly, “I know you did, and I’m sorry. I didn‘t mean it.”

“But clearly you did if you felt the need to say it. I mean, it doesn’t just come out of nowhere, those accusations. You felt them. And I was thinking about it all day yesterday and… you were probably right, we are too unprofessional.”

“No, sweetheart. I enjoy our dinner sessions and I appreciate that you feel comfortable to talk to me when something bothers you—“ It didn’t matter, though. There was nothing he could say to change her mind.

The words that left her mouth were mostly involuntary. They were a protective barrier, a reason to say no, back off and a clear indication that she had no capacity for this. And although it hurt somewhere deep within her chest to express them, to become a viscous reminder of last night, especially when Harry’s eyebrows drew together in deep regret, it needed to be said.

“Harry, I meant it when I quit last night.”

A reasonable response was lost on Harry. For a moment he needed to think, to gather his thoughts— not that there were very many. He had to admit, he’d hoped they would gloss over her drunken text and pretend as though it hadn’t been. He’d hoped that Y/N felt a small spark of embarrassment when she thought about it, that she looked back on it with regret. Alas, she didn’t.

“Oh.”

He pulled back, shoulders tensing when the gravity of her statement had pulled him down along with it.

“Yeah. I mean, I love working with Jamie, I do, but I—“ I’m scared that I’ll form an attachment I will never recover from. I’m scared of the proximity we share, of how sometimes you let your fingers brush over my thigh. I’m scared because I don’t know what you mean, scared because psychoanalyzing doesn’t work on you. Or maybe— maybe I’m scared of love. With you. Or with anyone. Maybe I’m not capable of being loved. And maybe I’m not even capable of loving and maybe— just maybe, this will be the end of me. And for what? For you to say that the affection you extend to me is customary? That I have a tainted perception of reality, of love? Because I know I do. I know I do, and yet hearing it from you would hurt much more. And so maybe… maybe in this case, finding out isn’t worth the hassle. You’ll probably find I’m not either.

There was so much to say and such little capacity to say it. All Y/N could think to do was sputter words she didn’t mean and hope he understood because the alternative was ridding herself of every. little string of dignity she still possessed and she simply couldn’t do that. She couldn’t allow herself to unfold in front of the only person who’s perception of her she wanted to nurture most. No one had stayed. Even if he would come to leave, she wanted him to leave with a sound picture of her.

“But you…”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t… because of yesterday?”

“No. I mean, I guess that was a bit of an eye opener, but I—“ Y/N breathed in, “I think I’m getting too attached to you. You and Jamie.”

His eyes widened just a bit and he took a small step toward her. It was so small she hardly felt him entering her space. “I don’t mind that, Y/N, you don’t need to quit—“

“I do though,” she interrupted him, a stern undertone to her voice. She coughed and said again, “I mind.”

“I think you’re still angry about yesterday.”

She had to contain the urge to roll her eyes, “I’m not. This is separate from that.”

“So it’s the attachment that’s the problem?”

“Yes.”

Harry scoffed, “that’s ridiculous. There’s nothing wrong with attachment.”

“It depends on what kind, doesn’t it?”

“Enlighten me then.”

Y/N’s mouth closed. She couldn’t do that.

So she deflected.

“Harry, my contract says that as long as I stay long enough to find a fitting replacement—“

“Fuck the contract, Y/N,” the volume of his voice almost caused Y/N to flinch into herself, “I know what my contract says. What I don’t know is why you’re giving up a job that you love, a job that pays you well, for reasons you can’t even explain to me.”

“Is my resignation not enough for you? Would hearing my reasoning really change anything if I will keep insisting on resigning no matter how often you’ll advise me against it? I doubt it matters. I doubt you would even so much as give a shit, Harry."

Y/N shook her head, tears building in the ducts of her eyes. Her father had been of great emotional abuse, her mother had spent half of her life drinking herself to liver failure and her brother had moved to Madrid as soon as he’d turned eighteen, leaving Y/N to fend for herself in a household that contained not one ounce of love— and yet this felt worse. This felt like her heart was being ripped from her chest, dropped on the floor beating and bleeding.

“You think I don’t give a shit? Really?” Y/N couldn’t help rolling her eyes, huffing when he tapped her on the wrist, muttering with a steady furrow in his brow, “don’t roll your eyes at me.”

“You know why I’m quitting and yet you want to hear it come out of my mouth. I’m not going to do it.”

“I don’t know.”

She almost laughed, “sure”

“Sweetheart—“

“Don’t call me that.” She gave him a sharp glance before heading back to her bedroom, arms falling to the sides of her timid frame. Harry stopped her just short of the door, a steady hand gripping around her wrist. She couldn’t help the gasp that left her mouth, built up tears finally streaming down in heaps— embarrassment brewed in her stomach and she couldn’t bare to look him in the eye anymore. Harry’s touch elicited a spark on her skin, blistering with uncomfortable heat. “What?”

“You’re being rude. I really think you should consider this.”

“There’s nothing to consider, okay?!  I… I feel too much for you, there’s too— there’s too much, okay? There’s too fucking mu—“

What would transpire between them next was a kiss. Initiated by Harry.

It was barely a kiss, more of a brushing of the lips— tentative movements, gentle breaths. It was the minimum and yet it was more than enough. There was an electric feeling that dragged through Y/N’s entire body as she closed her eyes and let herself feel. Harry didn’t seem very much like a gentle lover— generous, without doubt, but Y/N had always pictured him as a pin-to-the-wall, bite-to-the-lip type of man and she quickly received confirmation when he began squeezing her hand as if feeling restrained.

Y/N hadn’t kissed many people; less than five, probably, but she could say with certainty that this was already better than all of the other ones combined. She knew why. She knew the reason was that she genuinely liked Harry, that he made her feel things she’d never felt before.

But then again, Harry was her boss. He was off limits, taboo. And he was absolutely out of his mind right now.

“Wait.”

His breath fanned against her chin. “You don’t want me to?”

“No I do, I just—“ she shook her head, thoughts in a disarray like they’d never been before.

“Tell me to stop and I will.”

Her mouth opened but nothing came out, merely staggered breaths as she tried to regain the ability to think. The interruption came when Harry’s phone rang on the counter.

He groaned, took a glance at the screen and broke away when he saw his mother’s name flash as the caller ID.

“Yes?” He called into the speaker, frustration molding his features as he kept on listening. “Yes, okay, tell him I’m on my way. Give me twenty minutes… Love you too, bye.” When he turned to her, phone slipped into his back pocket, she could tell that he yearned to say more, that he yearned for her to say more. She knew he would halt his actions, leave time for her to get her words out before he left for whatever emergency he’d been called in for, that if she only said something he would consider putting her as a second priority after his son. She knew that he would make her feel important. But she said nothing. And nobody, not even the most patient person in the world could work with nothing. “Jamie’s asking for me. I need to go get him.”

She only nodded.

He sighed, running a tired hand down his face. “Alright. I need to go. I’ll see you around, Y/N.”

She stood at exactly the same spot as Harry slammed the door shut, unwavering.

Her heart was still pounding as the words she should’ve expressed minutes ago died on her lips.

—

Résumés had been sent to him, interviews were lined up, and Y/N had received no reply back. She hadn’t received anything, really, just a text on Thursday that he would arrange for another babysitter to come in for Jamie while he left for his late meeting, to which Y/N had typed a dry ‘ok’ and left it to sit in her inbox.

The week had started fresh and Y/N had finally left home again (only to her classes, but still). After days of not working, she was scheduled to pick up Jamie at two thirty and hoped for these last weeks to resume seamlessly. She’d gotten the car from the house, locked the door back up again and made the ten minute drive down— everything was fine.

Until now. Until Y/N set foot on preschool grounds and noticed another woman hugging her arms around Jamie’s shoulders. She seemed unfamiliar at first— glasses tipped back on her long blonde hair, a pencil skirt concealing her toned legs. Y/N had no idea who she was dealing with until she took a closer look and recognized this woman to be Stacie. Y/N had seen a picture of Stacie up in Harry’s study— she seemed to have changed a little, but the structural features she associated with her still remained intact through all these years (big blue eyes, defined cheekbones).

As soon as Jamie’s eyes set on Y/N, though, Stacie’s hands were torn away from his shoulders as he ran for her. She got on her knees, his familiar smile melting away all of the cold spots she’d developed in over a week of not seeing him.

“I miss you!” Jamie pulled away to plant a kiss right on the top of the apple of Y/N’s cheek, something he only started doing recently. She guessed he’d only really learned how to. “Daddy said you pick me up today.”

“I missed you too, buddy. I see somebody else came to see you?”

“Oh, Stacie. She wants to take me home but daddy said you pick me up.”

“Yeah, okay. Do you want to wait a second while I talk to her?”

Jamie nodded, moving to stand next to her (small hand clutched in hers, of course) while Y/N greeted Stacie. Well, greet was a bit of an exaggeration; she didn’t get to before Stacie decided to introduce herself first.

“I’m his mom, I called Harry in the morning telling him I’d come for pick up. I have a packed schedule, so I’d appreciate it if you could let go of my child.”

Y/N almost laughed, the audacity of this woman a damn near mystery to her. “Wait. Don't talk about him like some sort of property. Harry never told me about anyone else coming to pick up Jamie.”

“He must’ve forgotten. He’s a busy man, I’m sure he would confirm—“

“Well then let’s call him, shall we?”

Stacie wanted to interject, she could tell, but Y/N had dialed way too fast for that to happen. The phone only had to ring once before Harry picked up, his voice coming in clear.

“Hey, you‘ve got Jamie?”

“I’m here at preschool but Stacie showed up before me and wants to take him home. You didn’t tell me, so I…” she trailed off, hoping he’d fill in the blanks.

It seemed to take a minute to click. “Stacie? His mother showed up at school?”

“Yes, was this arranged beforehand or…”

“No. No, don’t let her take him home. Shit, we talked about this last week, I don’t—“

“You… you talked about this last week?” The confusion dripped from Y/N’s voice and all she could hear was Harry’s attempt at concealing profanities. “What did you talk about last week?”

“It doesn’t matter. Just get home, tell her to call me to clear this up. I don’t want Jamie knowing Stacie is his mother yet, okay? So just get out of there before she tells him herself.”

A frown settled over Y/N’s features before she continued to end the call, scoop Jamie up into her arms and walk away after quick word. Stacie protested, but both her and Y/N knew she wouldn’t do much more than that in fear of causing a scene.

Y/N failed to pay attention to Jamie as she fastened the belt on his seat, only registering when she looked back into the rearview mirror and noticed the little pout starting to pull at his small lips.

And when he finally asked her, little quips of fear polishing his quiet tone:  “is Stacie my mum?”, all Y/N could do was pretend she hadn’t heard and hope he would forget, knowing he wouldn’t.

—

Y/N bombarded Harry with questions the second he‘d unlocked that front door.

“Y/N—“

“No, I’m entitled to know this time. I’m entitled to know when she ambushes us at preschool. Don’t you want me to know what I’m dealing with if it happens again? That woman almost fucking kidnapped him—“

“Calm down, Y/N. Sit down and I’ll explain it to you.”

She huffed in annoyance, listening nonetheless. She set herself down on one of the kitchen stools and tried to take control of her breathing. She watched as he took a seat opposite her.

“Stacie came to visit last week on Wednesday. She’d called beforehand, asking if it would be okay. She came and we had dinner, we talked some things out while Jamie was in bed. She apologized, asked if we could start working things out again. I agreed under the condition that she would approach the idea of Jamie as a friend first. She said that she would respect my wishes and that she wouldn’t come near him unless I gave my permission. That’s it. So far all Jamie knows is that she’s a friend of mine. I didn’t—god,” Y/N felt bad when Harry buried his head in his hands, itching to reach out in comfort. She chose to play it safe, settling a gentle touch over his thigh. “I didn’t think she’d do this.”

Y/N hadn’t seen Harry this distraught over anything. “I’m sorry. That’s heavy.”

“It’s—“ he sighed, “it’s something I keep having to deal with. All she wants is to have him on the weekends, have him pose as her cute son. But she doesn’t actually care about him.”

Y/N couldn’t do much more than nod. She was caught between playing the comforting role and being honest. She wasn’t sure if this was the place, if her opinion would be welcomed or if it would contribute to Harry’s sorrows. “She seemed… uncooperative when I spoke to her at school. Like she was in a rush or something, it scared me.”

“Yeah, she’s hardheaded.”

“Right.” Y/N pulled her hand away when Harry lifted his head, clearing her throat and averting her eyes. The change in her behavior didn’t go unnoticed, though he knew he shouldn’t ask. “So when you talked… when you agreed to working things out, you meant that in a friendly manner? Or were you going to be… a couple again?”

“We… I don’t know. We kissed— well, she kissed me a few days ago when we met up again for a playdate with Jamie. Never discussed it any further.”

“Do you love her?”

Y/N had begun to hold her breath in, but she didn’t notice it.

Harry did. He noticed the suction of a deep breath and he noticed how his own hands got clammy with sweat.

Harry looked skeptical, as though there was something on his tongue ready to peek out tentatively, only it couldn’t because he had to spare her feelings. Because there was little Y/N, intimidated by everything she’d ever had to face in her lifetime— little Y/N who had rejected him and still expected loyalty. Little Y/N who couldn’t have him, but had always wanted to.

“I think a part of me will always love her. I mean, she gave me Jamie and he’s… the best thing to ever happen to me, really. I love him, and I will always love her for giving birth to him. I will always love her for the good parts of our relationship.”

Y/N hated herself for hating his answer. It was a perfectly reasonable answer, truthful as Y/N expected, yet her mind wandered past the barriers, past the barbed wire. She couldn’t fully grasp how he could still love her— and yet she understood perfectly. There was Jamie, of course, but there were many other things. There was her hair, her bright complexion, the beautiful curve of her hips and the effortless look of her makeup. There was the fashion, the business-casual look that seemed to mesh so well with Harry’s. There was this calling when Y/N pictured the two of them standing side by side, almost like they were destined to be together. She could imagine it perfectly, the many years they had spent together. She could see it. And it looked perfect.

Y/N coughed, head nodding along to his words as if she were listening to instructions and not some heartfelt confession. It felt instinctual, though.

When it came time for her to speak, she let a smile mold her lips into a perfect crescent moon. She never thought faking a smile could hurt more than a physical injury, but she’d been proven wrong. Everything looked intact— Y/N was sure she almost seemed unaffected from the outside. She wasn’t, though, and she wondered if Harry would recognize that.

“That’s… yeah. I get that.”

This was the first time Y/N actually felt the age gap between her and Harry. He sat here, ready to air it out. He spoke about his concerns, about the state of his son, and the only thing she could fret about was herself. Her sadness had no weight, it was too insignificant in comparison to his and it made her feel pathetic. It made her feel young and stupid and pathetic.

Harry deserved better than this. He deserved careful consideration, security for his child. He deserved trust and honesty, a sort of transparency Y/N couldn’t afford to offer to him yet.

“That’s not to say that I want to approach her in that way, especially after today, but…” he trailed off, only finding his words when it’d clicked that she wasn’t responding, “I just want you to understand that it’s complicated.”

Y/N nodded. Then she cleared her throat, ready to rid herself of this spotlight. She always messed up in the spotlight.  “Um, Jamie asked me if Stacie was his mum today. I didn’t answer, but you might want to think about what you’ll say to say to him next time. I also sent you a few résumés, I’ve talked to a few people and have set up interviews, the first one is scheduled for tomorrow—“ she visibly flinched when his hand came down on her thigh, “please, Harry. I can’t. Please just let me finish this.”

“Okay.”

A deep breath, “it’s scheduled for tomorrow after you come home from work. Do you want me to come on the call, or are you okay interviewing yourself?”

“I’d like you to come.”

“Okay. I’ll stay longer tomorrow.”

“Can we talk about us now? Properly?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

Harry almost laughed, “there’s a lot to talk about. We just added on a good bit today.”

“I’m quitting. That’s it.”

“You know, I don’t understand why you insist that there’s nothing going on—“

“Because there isn’t,” she snapped. “There isn’t. I’m going to check up on Jamie.”

She was teary-eyed as she slipped from the stool, ready to conceal it all for the ball of sunshine sitting in the next room. She could do it all for Jamie— she would do it all.

Before he could say any more, Y/N disappeared behind the door. Harry could hear the two of them converse in the next room and his heart felt heavy as the gravity of the situation dawned on him. Harry had always known what to do— he was a CEO, for god’s sake. He was trained to find solutions, take control of seemingly unfixable problems, to make life easy. And yet, this girl thoroughly baffled him. He had no idea what the fuck to do anymore.

And yet, he was determined to keep trying.

—

Two people had interviewed over zoom and Harry had hated every one of them. His excuses were vague, something about the lack of experience (even though they both knew that Y/N hadn’t had any when she’d started either) and the supposed ‘wrong vibe’. One time he’d criticized a woman for her ‘ridiculously shrill voice’, at which point Y/N had rolled her eyes and proceeded to walk home in a fury.

The next day Y/N showed up again, ready to interview three more people. She sat beside Harry as he set up the video call and listened as he asked questions. Y/N was mostly in attendance to listen and give her honest feedback by the end (she really did want to find someone spectacular for Jamie), so the difficult part came later. For now she could be quiet.

This woman, aside from qualified, seemed very kind. So far, it’d been the best candidate.

“So how flexible is time for you?”

“Very. I do online classes for uni, so I can very well manage my time how I see fit.”

“That sounds fine. And you’ve had plenty of experience, I see.”

“Yes, I started babysitting when I was fourteen, so for more than ten years now. The last family I worked for just moved out of the country, which is why I’m looking for something new, but I was with them three years.”  

This woman had nothing but good evidence she would be the best for the job; no doubt better than Y/N. She had the experience, she seemed mature, she looked kind— she would act in a professional manner, something Y/N had never quite figured out yet.

That didn’t matter to Harry, though, because as soon as she’d gotten off the call, he muttered a ‘no’.

“Why not?” Y/N asked, bewildered by his blunt response, “she was literally perfect for the job.”

Harry lifted his shoulders in a shrug, busying himself with his laptop, “just didn’t feel right.”

“Okay, this is just getting too unreasonable at this point. You didn’t like the lack of experience, fine, that one woman’s shrill voice, fine— but this? She just didn’t feel right?”

“I don’t expect you to understand—“

“No. We’re not doing that.”

“It’s a feeling, Y/N. When I interviewed you, I got the feeling that it’s right, that I’d feel safe leaving Jamie with you. It takes trust.”

“But she’s— she’s so qualified, she—“

“Experience isn’t everything. It’s important, but not everything. You weren’t experienced when you came for your interview but you gave me the right feeling. Thus you were qualified for the job.”

And she understood, really, but it still fucking pissed her off. “That’s fucking— you’re being too picky.”

“For good reason.”

“At least two of the people we interviewed were qualified enough for a test run.”

“We still have about fifteen to go and there’s no rush.”

Y/N found this ridiculous. She muttered under her breath, pushing some hair back with a sweaty palm.

“Why is it that everything I do makes you angry?”

“Because you’re fucking infuriating.”

He breathed a chuckle, “that’s nice,” and closed his laptop. “Are you hungry?”

“No.”

“Don’t lie to me. I’ll make your favorite pasta.”

“I don’t—“ but Harry had already gotten to work, tuning her voice out without much trouble. He smiled at her, almost mocking.

“Do you have another job lined up?“

“Uh,” Y/N didn’t want to admit no, that she hadn’t even begun looking properly (save for that one café down the street from her apartment), knowing the consequences and aware of the tiring reprimanding from Harry ahead. A pitied glance. A pathetic speech. “I’ve applied.”

“Where?”

“A cafe.”

“Where?”

“You wouldn’t know it.”

“Are you hired?”

She huffed, “no.”

“Where else?”

“Um, a… another café. It’s in... near my apartment.”

“Would be bad if it wasn’t,” he quipped, paying her a shortened glance from over his cooking pot. “Do you need help?”

“No.”

“Financial help, maybe?”

Y/N groaned, “no.”

“Because I wouldn’t mind sending you some money—“

“Harry,” she cut him off in an instant, glaring daggers at him, “I’ll just send it back. I’ve saved up enough to get by for a few weeks.“

“That doesn’t exactly ease my—“

“Can we just— can we not?”

And they didn’t. Harry closed his mouth— forced it closed, actually— having to clench his jaw to stop himself from voicing unwanted thoughts.  Y/N looked away, pretending this conversation hadn’t happened at all. It was easier that way, to pretend he hadn’t conveyed such an open and honest display of care, to pretend that it hadn’t ripped her heart to shreds.

There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn't. It was the first time in a while that Y/N stayed (somewhat voluntarily) after her shift, and he couldn't risk pushing her away further.

For now, he had to be okay with this.

—

Y/N couldn‘t keep her eyes off of Harry, images of last night flashing in between conflicting thoughts.

She was in bed. She was clutching her blanket, a wet spot and the outline of her body marked by sweat on the sheets. He‘d looked so real fucking her, he‘d sounded so genuine whispering into her ear as he thrust up into her cunt.

He‘d called her a good girl, and she‘d run with it, afraid to look back.

But it hadn‘t been real, had it?

It‘d been a dream. But god, was it a good one.

Would he do it all the same? Would be hold her close, spreading his fingers over the expanse of her breast as he kissed her neck? Would he glide them up, and wrap them around her throat? Would he— fuck. No. She couldn’t.

But he would. And they‘d look so pretty resting there. And she‘d feel so pretty as he overwhelmed her with his presence, his chest pressing against hers. He‘d look so right as he danced along the fine line of praise and degradation— the line of rough and sweet, cold and warm. Because he would know. He would know exactly what she would need.

Wouldn‘t he?

He would. As she watched him move through the space of his living room, she knew he would. She‘d always known, really.

And Jamie wasn’t here anymore, he’d fled up the stairs. And Y/N really, really shouldn’t be here with him alone.

She was biting on her nails, eyes cast downwards in avoidance as Harry read his book on the other end of the couch. He had an arm stretched along the back of the couch and her legs were tucked to her chest as she scrolled on her phone, trying her hardest not to let her gaze run wild. It proved especially difficult when his arm fell mere inches from her legs. And when he touched her, warm thumb rubbing comforting circles into the cold of her skin, she couldn’t help biting her lip.

“You okay?”

“Hm? Yes. Why?”

A smile stretched his mouth wide, “just seem distracted, is all. Squirmy.”

“What? No, I’m fine.”

God, she was feeling small under his gaze.

“You sure?”

“Yes,” she mumbled. Harry saw her eyes, though, tired dark circles resting where they didn’t belong. He saw how they widened, how desperate they seemed for something she didn’t want to disclose to him and he wanted so badly to satisfy that need for her. “I should go home.”

His grip tightened ever so slightly. “Would you like me to drive you?”

“Um, no. It’s okay. Thank you.”

But she failed to move.

Y/N had shut him out for so long that the effect he’d always had on her multiplied by ten. It was much much worse and the finger on her leg burned through her skin with ease.

“Sweetheart?”

“Hm?”

“Come here,” he demanded softly, watching as a war unfolded on her face. He could read her like a book, sensing the exact moment her heart won and her head gave up. He pulled her to him, fingers dancing up and down her shoulder. “You seem tired.”

Y/N cleared her throat, tips of fingers holding onto the edge of safety and threatening to let her cascade into the depths of danger. “I had three classes in the morning and I’ve been writing this paper, so—“ she allowed him control as he made her face the other way, legs outstretched, her back just inches from his chest and his hands massaging her tense shoulders. Her eyes closed in pleasure at the sensation. “And last night, I—“

“Last night you what?”

“I had… I had this dream and—“

She didn’t want to finish and he didn’t need her to.

“Is this okay?”

His voice felt soft and comfortable against her neck. “Yes, thank you. You’re good at that.”

He hummed.

“I really should go home though,” she mumbled, getting quieter with each word. She knew she wouldn’t dare push him away now, but she supposed it was more about convincing herself that she’d tried. “Cause I have classes early in the morning.”

“It’s only seven.”

“Yeah.”

Harry snickered quietly, her awful try at resistance not surprising him in the least. He had never seen her quite like this though, weak and smitten in his arms, on the verge of purring like a cat.  He definitely couldn’t complain when she inched closer and dropped her head back so it could rest comfortably on his shoulder. 

“Can you do my arms?”

“Of course, baby.”

She could’ve melted. In fact, she probably had without noticing.  

And when she felt his lips pressing to her skin… well, then it was game over.

“Is this okay?”

She nodded promptly, heart racing.

Y/N was tired of rejecting this feeling, tired of pretending as though she didn’t want or need Harry’s affection. Because truly, it was all she wanted, all she’d longed for.

A love like his would feel so great.

“You look really beautiful, you know that?”

“Thank you,” she squeaked, sensing Harry’s chuckle rolling against her back at the response.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

“Me neither.”

“You’re the one who keeps running.”

“I know.”

“Why?”

Y/N took her time answering, grateful when Harry didn’t rush her. He would sit here waiting for an hour if he needed to, she was confident in that. There was no hurry, just soft hands on scalps and warm kisses on necks— Y/N hadn’t experienced such an overwhelming feeling of comfort in the arms of a man.

“I’m scared to stay.”

He sounded unfazed, giving her a surge of confidence when he asked, “why?”

“Because we’re such different people. You’re a dad, a very accomplished ceo. I’m a student, so much younger—“

“Don’t make me out to be so old, love.”

Her eyes rolled. “A little younger than you. And last week when I saw Stacie, I don’t know… it did something with my brain, I guess. You seemed so right together, you know? I didn’t want you to wake up one day and regret anything, don’t think I could bear that.”

“Look at me,” he muttered, tilting her head so that he could pin her down with a stern stare, “I couldn’t regret you, sweetheart. I regret much in life, but I wouldn’t regret you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Eh, I’m a pretty good judge of character.”

“Harry,” she warned, “I’m not the most lovable person once you get to know me.”

“I doubt that,” he retorted.

“Past experiences have proven as much.”

He gave gentle strokes to her cheek, a glaze he didn‘t expect overcoming her eyes, pulling him in, “so let me show you.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, his nose mere inches away from hers. “Show me what?”

“How easy it is to love you.”

Time stood still, but it couldn’t not have with a statement of that kind. It seemed so easy for him to brush off concerns as something undeserving of thought, to create an allusion of simplicity where it didn‘t belong. Those words meant everything to her.

“You must know how wonderful that sounds coming from your mouth.”

Harry breathed a chuckle, nose nudging against hers softly. When he asked for permission, Y/N couldn’t deny him of another kiss.

And if it could’ve gotten any better than their first kiss, then it definitely had. There was a newfound sense of freedom and security with this kiss, unspoken thoughts reduced to small details rather than what had been when they’d spent time together last.

When they parted, nothing needed to be said. They already knew it all.

—

A month later.

“Y/N, will you hand me another bowl for the soup, please?”

As Y/N fulfilled Harry’s plea, she couldn’t help but let giddiness dictate her movements. Things were fresh, things were good— but they were also scary. He was scary. Anxious butterflies spread in her lower tummy at the mention of his name and infested it with the low sound of his voice.

She waited by his side as he tidied up, ready to be of assistance. It was pathetic, really, how awfully smitten she’d become for him.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

She hummed in reply, scared that if she were to speak all that would come out was a squeak. Harry chuckled, smirk molding into his cheekbones as he grasped Y/N by the waist and pushed his lips against hers in a gentle kiss. His hand slid lower, giving her a squeeze.

“Are you nervous?”

“Yeah.”

“It’ll be great, I promise. And whatever he says, we’ll work it out.”

“Okay,” a surge of confidence rode her to sunny dry shores, shoulders sacking in comfort, “yeah, okay. I trust you.”

“You ready then?”

“Yes.”

Things proceeded as they always had; Y/N and Jamie shared funny anecdotes of their day as Harry mostly listened, admiring the two of them with love filling his eyes. It wasn’t until desert had come that the setting changed, unbeknownst to Jamie, and Harry took the lead.

“Jamie, we want to talk to you about something.”

Jamie stared between the two of them, waiting.

“Do you remember when you came home from school and told me about Katie and Josh? That they’re boyfriend girlfriend?”

“Yes, they still are.”

Harry chuckled, “and do you remember what I said when you asked if I had a girlfriend?”

“You said that you don’t.”

“I did. And while that may have been true for that moment, things have changed.”

Her heart melted and sank all the same when his little green eyes lit up, “do you have a girlfriend now?”

“I do,” Harry laughed, “you know her.”

“Who?”

Harry smirked, motioning to Y/N with a nod of his head to draw Jamie’s attention away. Jamie’s gaze landed on Y/N and in the matter of a second it filled with excitement. His mouth dropped open in surprise.

“Are you okay with that?” She asked, timid at first but becoming more confident when a genuine smile imprinted small dimples in his cheeks, a feature he’d been lucky enough to receive from his father.

He nodded, full of movement, and hummed in confirmation.

When Y/N and Harry had put Jamie into bed later that night, and had vacated to the kitchen to enjoy a glass of wine together, things finally fell into place. The thought of happiness within a relationship was no longer a distant one— no, it had become a reality. Harry had kept up with his promise, he had shown her easy, he’d shown her effortless, and while there was no doubt in her mind that hard times were still to come, she was confident that no matter the circumstance, her gratitude for his open portrayal of love could never be put into question.

“I love you,” she shared, eyes glassy, head tilted. “You don’t have to say it back, but I just want you to know. I think I’ve loved you for quite some time, I just didn’t want to realize it.”

The silence was short lived.

He placed his glass back down on the table and smiled, though to her it almost looked awkward. “Wow.”

“I know, you don’t have to… cause I know it’s a big deal, so you don’t have to say anything.”

“I do too,” he then offered, hand traveling to rest on her knee. “I love you.”

“Really?”

“I do.”

This stumped her.

And now it was her turn: “wow.”

Harry’s laughter spread everywhere on Y/N’s skin, engraving itself into her soul and staying there to be kept and remembered forever.

“Good. Now that that’s cleared…”

She couldn’t deny him of a passionate make-out session, hands on thighs and lips everywhere they fit, everywhere they felt right. A moan slipped from her mouth, his smirk molded into her hot skin.

“Move in with me,” he muttered, dirty against her mouth, “we’re finding a new nanny for Jamie and you don’t have a new job planned yet. Just focus on university, move in with me, with us. Let me take care of you.“

“Harry—“ his mouth collided against her neck, her eyes closed shut, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Why?”

“We’ve only been together—“

“Doesn’t matter, I’ve fought for a long time to have you. I believe in us, I trust this.”

“I…“ Y/N felt torn— on one hand, she really wanted to move in with him. On the other, was that really wise? To move in with a man after a month of dating him? Albeit this was Harry, and she trusted him too. Fully. It was herself she didn’t trust. “Are you sure?”

And when she looked into his eyes, there was no not one ounce of doubt in them. They welcomed her.

“Jamie would love it just as much as me.”

“Would he?”

“Are you kidding me? He loves you so much.”

“I love him too,” she played with a strand of his hair.

“Then move in with us.”

A smile began to pull at her lips. “But I pay for groceries.”

“No,” he mumbled, “you’re too broke for me to let you do that.”

“Harry!”

“It’s true!” He laughed, massaging her thigh. “Baby, I don’t expect you to pay for anything living here. I’m more than capable—“

“I know you’re capable, but I just… I was taught not to burden other people.”

“You’re not burdening me,” he insisted, finger sliding under her chin, “it’s okay to let other people do things for you. It’s okay for others to show their love.”

“I know that.”

“So please don’t worry about it. Focus on your studies and make me proud in that way.”

“I need to make money somehow.”

“No you don’t. I’ll support you.”

“No,” she breathed right away, “I won’t depend on you for money. You’re not my… my sugar daddy.”

“Why not?” He grinned, “you call me daddy either way—“

Y/N’s eyes rolled, “shut up.”

“Told you not to roll your eyes at me.”

“Sorry.”

Harry hummed, “try it for a month. If you want to move in after, you can. If you don’t, I’ll help you find a new place. Or I’ll pay your rent while you’re here so you don’t lose out on money.”

Comfortable silence dictated the next few seconds as Y/N thought about her boyfriend’s offer, and then: “fine. We’ll try it for a month.”

Harry’s smile widened, “yeah?”

“Yes.”

“You won’t regret it."

He'd been right.

--

The end! Would love to hear your feedback :) but also like… don’t be too harsh cause I can’t handle it

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@tpwk-mia @gem1712 @behindmygreyeyes, @sinarainbows @infixinfinity @adkmermaid2399 @daphnesutton @imaginexxharry @bry211 @haliastyles @watarmelon212 @impossibleme @cali-888 @dreamybabbyy @evie-119 @cumuluscranium @c-a-b3002 @buckybarnessimpp @freckles-things @harryedwardstylesluva24 @ihavesimpedovermanyfictionalmen @angelbunny222 @ivegotthecinema @harryscowgirl

I hope I didn’t forget anyone!

[uwupaige]

the nanny [paige bueckers] part nine

(chapters 15 & 16)

‘the nanny’ master list!

chapter fifteen: pink frosting.

paige pulled her car into her designated spot outside of her condo building, exhaustion clear as day on her face. the estimated thirty minute drive from the airport took longer than necessary, something about a sunday afternoon causing tons of traffic. the thought of having to unload all of their luggage and drag it upstairs already exhausted her even more, knowing madison wouldn't be any help. and the fact it had begun to snow, she knew she had to be fast, or else madison would get busy playing in it.

sighing, paige unbuckled herself from her seat, turning off the engine and stepping out of the warmth of her black vehicle and into the chilly atmosphere. she quickly made her way to the trunk of her car, pulling out the two large suitcases they used for the week, along with the several backpacks they used as well. and as if the universe had heard her internally complaining about the load she had to take in on her own, the sound of a familiar, but completely unexpected, scream interrupted her whining.

the blonde looked up hesitantly at where the noise had seemingly come from, unsure if she'd even want to know. however, it was none other than an excited catherine, standing at the porch of paige's condo. the woman had a blanket she definitely pulled off of paige's couch draped over her shoulder in attempt to protect her from the cold, an arm sticking out as she waved down the two girls a few floors down from her.

and then, as soon as she was there, she was gone. paige furrowed her brows, confused at everything that was happening. maybe it was just because she was tired, or maybe the last argument she had with her mom was still heavy on her mental and could've been causing hallucinations.

"was that cat?" madison asked from beside the woman, only further assuring her that it was indeed real.

"i think so?" paige replied just as unsure.

the brunette returned to their sight a few minutes later, an actual jacket on her torso now as she made her way out of the front door to paige's building.

the same excited smile grew across her face as she got closer to the bueckers, her arms opened wide when she saw madison heading towards her.

"maddie!" the woman called out, to madison's surprise. like she didn't know it was catherine until she heard her voice. the girls face mimicked catherine's as she ran over to her, somehow not slipping in the snowy parking lot. catherine crouched down to catch madison in her arms, squeezing her as tight as she could. "oh- i missed you, mamita. how was it? was it fun?"

madison then went on and on about the trip as a whole, down to the snacks she got to eat on the plane ride back to storrs. catherine just nodded enthusiastically as she pulled the girl out of her embrace, letting her finish her story, her active listening skills showing out.

once madison was done with the majority of her story, catherine stood up from her crouch, her eyes finally meeting paige's blue ones. as if they could read right through one another, catherine immediately knew that look on paige's face, knew the reason for the bags under her eyes, and why she looked so relieved to see her.

catherine gave the blonde a smile, a sweet and gentle one.

"hey, p," her voice was much calmer, softer than when she was just talking to madison. "c'mere." she prompted, walking closer to paige until their bodies connected in a hug, her arms coming to wrap around her shoulders naturally, like they had hugged each other every day.

but they didn't hug each other every day.

they never hugged.

paige's brows furrowed momentarily, her hands hesitantly coming up to catherine's back as she held her in the embrace. though she wasn't expecting it, she was not about to complain. a hug from catherine could probably heal the world, and she'd been patiently waiting for her turn.

every time madison was sad, or had an 'owie', she'd run to catherine for a hug. like it was the only thing that could make her feel better. and right now, paige understood and agreed completely. she'd been looking for this hug all week—she needed it.

catherine could've sworn she felt paige melting into the hug, different from the initial tense body she started hugging moments prior. she could tell paige was tired, in need of some support. her weight was heavy and her grip was tighter than either of them realized.

catherine didn't let herself dwell over the fact that paige was hugging her, this being the first time their bodies were this close, and in such an intimate manner. she didn't think too deeply about how a family of butterflies invaded her stomach, or the sense of relief she also felt during their embrace. and god forbid she noticed the way paige's hands slid across her back and waist as she pulled away from the hug, lingering in its place naturally. or the way it left her mind wandering down a dangerous, inappropriate path—she just focused on paige.

pulling away after a few moments passed, catherine give paige a sympathetic smile. "you alright?"

paige nods, a small smile on her lips. "better now that i'm home."

catherine's smile stayed as she looked between the blonde and the small girl next to her. she knew that paige just needed a break, a moment to relax.

"hey, maddie." the woman fully turned towards the five year old, hands falling to her knees as she bent down to be eye level with the girl.

"hm?" madison hummed.

"i have something super fun planned inside!"

the girls eyes widened and lit up, and catherine would have sworn she saw stars in her eyes. madison was always so excited for an adventure, anything new. "what is it?!"

"you gotta go see for yourself!" the brunette replied in a tone that mimicked madison's thrilled one.

madison made her way through the little snow fall, not missing the warnings from paige and catherine to slow down or be careful as she began trekking several feet ahead of them.

as they walked into the bueckers home, a smell that could only be described as christmas lingered, along with music that fit perfectly with the holiday spirit.

it wasn't until then that paige noticed catherine's christmas themed pajama pants. red and green plaid clung comfortably to her legs, and she paired it with a dark, red top. paige cursed herself internally for basically checking catherine out, her eyes moving up and down her body bashfully. she hated how easily entranced she became in the woman's presence. she hated how her body naturally looked that good. and she hated how she could tell catherine wasn't wearing a bra, and how much it made her stomach flip.

or maybe she just hated it because she knew it was so far out of reach. so unattainable. that's when she knew she was in deep.

'cut it out,' paige thought to herself.

madison gasped a few moments after entering her home, excitement rushing through her, though she didn't know what to expect—the sound of christmas jingles enough to rile her up. "what're we doing, cat?"

"we're making christmas cookies!"

madison jumps in excitement, turning to paige swiftly. "oh! oh! mom, can we put up the christmas tree?"

paige smiles down at the girl, glad there was something to snap her out of her thoughts. leave it up to madison to always keep you on your toes.

"yeah, babe, of course."

˚✧.*

the three girls have been standing in paige's kitchen, all focused on something specific to the cookie baking process as they conversed about their week apart.

"what'd you and molly do while you were there? in new york?" paige asked as she began preheating the oven, looking over a recipe she found online.

"nothing much.." the brunette responds, kneading one half of the sugar cookie dough, madison taking her time on the second half. "she took me to the city for a day, it was beautiful. too crowded for me, though."

paige snorted quietly. that sounded like something catherine would say. "you're the only person to go to new york city and expect it not to be crowded."

scoffing, catherine looked past her shoulder momentarily to stare daggers at the blonde, noticing how she began to struggle with the oven. "listen, i love new york," the woman defended, "seriously, if i ever run away, it'll be to new york." she explained, "but i would not live in the city."

"you're such a baby." paige teased, a laugh following her words.

"can you just hand me the damn cookie cutters, please?" catherine dismissed the blondes teasing, shooing her off to do something that wasn't bothering her. "they're in that bag."

paige rummaged momentarily through the brown paper bag that carried all of catherine's favorite baking essentials, but came up short. taking the bag in her hand, she walked over to catherine like a lost child, "they're not in here."

catherine looked up from her cookie dough rolling and into the dark bag, noticing that the christmas themed cookie cutters were indeed not in there.

"shit, i must've left it in the car." she spoke, mainly to herself.

paige watched as the woman began dusting off her hands and placing her utensils down, like she was getting ready to leave.

"i can go get it," the blonde offered quickly, before catherine could get too far.

"oh, it's okay, i can gr—"

"no, let me," paige proposed once more, this time her hand casually falling to the brunettes back, willing her to stay.

as soon as her hand was there, was as soon as it was gone. though, the chills down catherine's spine stayed stagnant, yearning for her to touch her again.

something about being away from each other longer than they were used to made things feel different now that they were back. the amount of times they had shared touches tonight probably would have added up to every single time they've touched ever before.

catherine cleared her throat in attempt to clear her mind at the sound of her car keys jingling, and the front door closing behind paige.

letting out a breath she didn't know she was holding in, the woman began helping madison roll out her cookie dough.

moments passed and madison if now was the right time to talk. "cat?"

"yeah, mama?"

"grandma got upset that i called paigey mom." madison had waited to talk about this, knowing her mom a little too well, not wanting to hurt her feelings or upset her. this setting reminded her of the first time she spoke with catherine about this, and it prompted her to continue it now.

catherine just snorted, having heard all about it already, "did she?"

madison nodded, "yeah, she was really mad at mom."

catherine shrugged, "it's okay, you don't have to worry about it." she assured the girl, giving her a comforting smile, one that always made madison feel at home.

"why does grandma not like it though?" the girl inquired, pushing away a piece of curly hair that fell in front of her face.

the woman shrugged again, "i'm not sure, mama."

madison thought about what she was about to say, quite intelligent for being so little. she let a long moment pass, willing catherine to look up from her cookie dough once more. she had an expecting look on her face, like she knew madison was wanting to say something.

in that moment, paige made her way back. brand new, unopened, pack of cookie cutters in hand as she stopped in her tracks at the silence she walked in on. as if she knew this was meant to be a private conversation, she closed the door softly behind her, creeping slowly down the small corridor before she walked into the kitchen.

"can i call you mom? or would she get mad at that also."

catherine did a double take, not expecting madison to say that at all.

"what?" catherine asked, but she heard the girl loud and clear. her voice was soft, like that instantly made her fragile, and laced in confusion.

"can i call you mom?" the small girl repeated, her voice youthful and full of wonder, not understanding the deepness behind her words.

catherine didn't know it, but paige's face mimicked hers at the moment, glad she listened to her gut feeling about eavesdropping on their conversation.

"oh, mamita.." catherine started, oblivious to the feeling of tears welling up, "i don't.. you can't.." the woman tried, but she came up short. this meant so much to her—madison meant so much to her—but she knew she couldn't just let that happen without paige knowing, something so fragile. "paigey's your mom, okay?" her voice was gentle as she tried to deny the girl as softly as possible. "y'know, she makes your 'owies' feel better, and she reads you your favorite books to sleep, and she loves you."

"you do those things, cat."

the woman internally cursed how smart and aware the girl was. she really was smart.

catherine sighed, giving madison an unsure look. this was the first time she truly had no answer for the girls problems. madison looked back down at her half of the cookie dough, and catherine wasn't sure if she looked sad or not. "i do love you, though." she assured.

madison looked up, her face bright with a smile again. "you do?"

"more than i think i realize."

"what?"

"i just mean that i do really love you." the brunette explained to the girl, "and i love being here with you and paigey, and helping you grow.." she trailed off momentarily, "and i wanna be best friends forever."

"promise we'll be friends forever?" madison asked the woman next to her genuinely, like she'd be afraid that she would disappear if she didn't.

catherine nodded, her face contorting as she fought back tears. "yeah," she nodded, her voice cracking as she reached to pull the girl into a hug. "of course."

they hugged for a moment, catherine doing everything in her power to not cry—or at least let these tears fall—before madison spoke again. "i love you too, cat."

well, so much for not letting the tears fall. the woman wondered if it would be obvious that she had started to cry, immediately reaching to wipe her tears away, sniffling back any snot that dared to leave her nose.

paige stood down the small corridor, once again mimicking catherine's emotions. they were too alike, sometimes, wiping at her own tears. her heart was full and simultaneously hurting. madison cared for catherine more than her small mind could comprehend, and to think that catherine would never be more than a friend (to her or to madison) devastated her to no end.

the sound of the oven beeping took her out of her thoughts, and catherine's comment after that. "where's paigey? the ovens ready for the cookies."

the blonde quickly tiptoed back to the door, opening it loudly this time before shutting it like normal, acting like she had just strolled in. walking in, she found the girls like she left them.

"cookie cutters have arrived," she announced.

"i call the christmas tree ones!" madison called.

˚✧.*

"cat, it's not turning red." madison spoke aloud her dilemma to the woman beside her, mixing away at the pink frosting that she intended to be red. "is it because the frosting is white?"

the brunette nodded, "that's right, you'd need something stronger to make it red."

madison sat back, huffing at all of the work she put in for no outcome. "boo."

catherine just grinned at the girl, then turning to the other side to catch paige really focused on her cookie design. her brows were furrowed and she had been quiet for a good minute now.

"you're serious 'bout that cookie."

paige nodded, still focused as she half answered. "gotta be precise." she mumbled.

peering over to catch paige's.. artwork, catherine snorted lightly.

"what?" paige challenged.

"he looks wonky." the woman admitted about the snowman shaped cookie.

"you look wonky." the blonde insulted back, to which catherine gasped dramatically.

"take that back!"

"aight, aight, i'm sorry." paige apologizes.

catherine should've known better than to think she was being serious, though.

"it's fi—" the brunette cut herself off at the feeling of paige's finger dragging green colored frosting down her nose.

catherine gasped as madison broke out into fits of laughter, and paige awaited her next move. she didn't pay too much attention though because as soon as she started to laugh, catherine was grabbing the bowl of bright, pink frosting madison was once working on and smearing some down the woman's cheek.

the two stared at each other momentarily before going all in.

their faces and arms were covered in different colors of frosting as they continued to fight one another with the sugary substance. even poor madison was eventually pulled onto the battlefield, though she took it like a champ, laughing all the way to the finish line.

"cat!" the blonde giggled, catherine clearly winning their impromptu food fight.

˚✧.*

their frosting fight didn't last too long before madison started crying about getting some in her eye. soon, catherine was wiping her whole face off with a rag and reminding her of her bed time.

"alright, mama, go hop in the shower and head to bed." the brunette instructed once she wiped the last bit of baby blue frosting off of madison's face.

madison was about to protest, but a sudden wave of sleepiness washed over her, and the sound of a yawn leaving her lips rather than an argument was more than enough reason to take the loss.

paige stood their patiently, watching the way the two of them interacted. she thought about much their bond meant to her. how if madison asked to call anyone else their mom, she would immediately feel jealous, or hurt. but not catherine. something about that felt right. it made sense to her.

the blonde wished her daughter a goodnight, leaning down to place a kiss to the top of her head, praying catherine didn't miss any extra frosting in her hair that would be crusted by the morning.

as madison walked off, catherine turned to find paige as messy as she left her, definitely being the sole winner of their frosting match. she giggled once more, the same rag in her hand coming up to start wiping at her face.

"how's it feel to lose?"

"i don't know, i've never lost before in my life." paige answered dramatically, turning her head to help catherine out with her cleanup.

though that didn't last long, the woman before her deciding to throw the rag at her chest, leaving her to clean herself up. "i'm done with you."

the blonde just laughed as she started at her face again, wiping off the streaks of pink as catherine went to wet another rag, cleaning herself up now.

they stood their in comfortable silence as they wiped away any evidence of their childish behavior, paige being the first to finish. she watched catherine wipe at her face, and noticed how she kept missing this one small, spec of bright green frosting that landed just below her bottom lip over and over again.

"can i.." paige attempted, her hand coming up to rest against the woman's face. her thumb swiftly swiped against catherine's plump, bottom lip.

catherine's breath hitched in her throat momentarily, that being the most intimate thing to happen to her in years. every touch they shared today was more than she was used to, and it was beginning to turn her on.

on instinct, catherine slightly caught her bottom lip between her teeth, still looking up towards the slightly taller blonde.

the air was stuffy all of the sudden, neither one of them willing to move or speak first.

they shared a look of understanding—like they both knew what just happened, how the air shifted, and how their eyes were suddenly darker—and it was too late to try to brush it off without acknowledging it.

the feeling of paige's gaze sent chills down the brunette's spine. cocking an eyebrow at her, catherine waited for her to say anything. at this point, she was waiting for her to make a move.

though, she wasn't sure these feelings she kept denying were being reciprocated.

the moment came and went with no verbal communication for a long, quiet minute.

"there, you.. sorry, you just kept missing it." the blonde finally spoke, her hand finally dropping from the woman's face and into her pockets as she felt the sweat begin to pool in her palms. she wondered if catherine could feel it, and it caused her cheeks to grow red.

"oh, uh, thank you."

another long moment of silence washed over them, the tension in the air begging for either of them to speak.

"do you, uh, wanna stay and.. catch up?" paige asked, a tone catherine would only describe as shy in her words, one she had never heard from paige.

catherine was about to say no, attempting to run away from her feelings once again. and then, she heard the unfortunate tone of her best friends voice in her head. "you're not over chris and that's why you don't want to accept that you like paige."

catherine knew she was over that part of her life. and she knew she wanted paige. she needed to stop running. paige had been nothing but sweet and caring to her. and there was something about her that was different. something she'd never experienced or felt with anyone ever before. whether it be just a friendship or something more, catherine knew she didn't want to let the woman go, for she'd grown immensely attached to her and madison.

maybe it took molly's pushy attitude, or having to go so many days apart, but she had finally started to accept it.

she really did like paige.

"yeah.. yeah, i'd love to." catherine spoke breathless, nodding softly.

paige's smile in return was nothing short of the definition of giddy.

chapter sixteen: it's kinda hot.

˚✧.*

the two women were having a great night together, catching up about their weeks apart, and more in depth now that madison wasn't present for it. they shared their feelings about the adversity they were met with, paige more than catherine by a long shot. catherine was a great shoulder to lean on for paige, and paige knew she wouldn't let her be down for long. like when she offered to show her an interpretive dance to some christmas tunes to get a laugh out of her.

paige was sprawled out on her living room couch, sinking into the dark grey cushions, a random blanket balled up behind her head to act like a makeshift pillow. the room was dim, only illuminated by the warm lamp in the corner and the t.v. right in front of her.

a smile tugged at her lips as she watched the show catherine was putting on in front of her. the woman was still clad in her christmas pajama pants, still sad deep down that paige wouldn't match with her for the time being. a half empty wine glass sat comfortably in her hand as she danced, paige praying to god that she didn't spill any of it on her nice carpets.

"okay, and then you do this.. 'feliz navidad.'" the brunette sang dramatically, pacing the living room, her bare feet shuffling against the soft carpet beneath her.

paige just snorted, closing her eyes momentarily as she shook her head at the ridiculousness in front of her. a look of adoration played on her face like she was entranced, grinning at catherine. "no way you're doing this right now."

catherine totally dismissed her statement, her focus now on the blonde before her. the woman inched closer to her, eventually letting her palms rest against the small coffee table separating them right now. she leaned in closer, examining paige. her face must've replicated the curiosity in her mind, because paige's brows quickly furrowed, nervous at why the energy had just shifted, almost pulling back when catherine leaned in. "what?"

catherine's face softened instantly at her words, grinning down at paige. half thinking about what she would say next, she shook her head. "your eyes look so pretty in this lighting."

that was only part of their activities for the night. they shared the cookies they made earlier, sure to not eat too many so madison could enjoy some the next day, trading in their alcohol for a cold glass of milk (paige going the extra mile and making hers chocolate).

they dared one another to go outside into the cold, snowy storrs night with no jacket on to see who could last the longest—spoiler alert, it was paige.

and the other made catherine question whether or not she wanted want to runaway all over again.

paige was hovering over the light purple suitcase she had just hauled onto her clean sheets, rummaging through the clothes and accessories she had in there from her trip to montana that week. she knew if she didn't tackle it now, she never would.

her knees lightly tapped against the black bed frame each time she leaned in to pull out an item of clothing, folding them semi-neatly if they were clean or throwing it into her hamper if the opposite. she focused in on this little task, leaving her and catherine to sit in comfortable silence outside of the christmas music they could hear still playing in the living room.

the woman looked up from her chore to find catherine slowly walking around her room, arms crossed naturally over her chest. a smile played on her plump lips as she took in all the little details paige encouragingly incorporating into her small, personal space: pictures and polaroids of her loved ones framed or hung up along her off white wall and dark dresser, her small book collection of strictly romance novels that rested comfortably on her minimalistic bookshelf that azzi got her into, her choice of dark blue bedding that had a small uconn husky specifically stitched into the left corner of it—everything.

"you're so cute." the brunette called out from the other side of the bed, which made paige look up quickly. her eyes would have widened and her stomach would have dropped had she not caught catherine looking at a picture of her when she was about seven years old, sporting a clearly oversized football jersey. that quickly calmed her thoughts.

"thanks." the blonde chuckled out, looking back down at the last few pieces of items she had to return to her living space from her luggage.

catherine continued to snoop, really taking in every picture paige had hung up on her dresser. she recognized the woman's teammates in a lot of them, and a woman in one that she assumed to be paige's mom. they had the same smile. and she couldn't help but notice the one of her and madison sitting together at the park near the woman's condo.

it was a selfie catherine took a little over a month ago that she had sent to paige as a mid day update, having known she probably wouldn't have seen her daughter that day.

it made her heart flutter. she really was apart of their lives now, and she played an important role. and something about seeing her face in a framed photo with her favorite person in the whole world in the bedroom of her other favorite person (in the whole world) sort of solidified that in her mind.

but, what really got her was a picture of paige and madison right after the girl was born. it was an intimate photo, one paige probably didn't show everybody she ever met or would talk about madison to. she was holding newborn madison, sunk into her hospital bed and gown, smiling down at her daughter. it brought tears to catherine's eyes, gasping lightly.

"oh.." her voice was soft, genuine. paige looked up, wondering what photo catherine was looking at now. but, by her reaction, she almost knew which one. "que lindas.." the woman spoke out loud with her native tongue, complimenting the girls in the picture, picking up the framed photo to examine closer.

paige was about to ask what that meant, but the other question that had been on her mind quite a lot poked first. "where's your accent from?"

catherine looked up from the picture in her hands, gently placing it back into its respective place. she cleared her throat so her words didn't come out as small as they wanted. "puerto rico.." she trailed off, cheeks growing a light shade of red that looked almost dark pink against her skin. "you can hear it?"

the blonde shrugged, lips pursing as she thought to herself. "it's faint. comes out a little when you speak spanish."

catherine began to fight with herself mentally, hating that anybody could hear it. to her, it sounded bad, out of place. she needed to watch what she would say. but being around paige and madison just felt so comfortable and normal she would not even think twice about half the things she said or did. "god, that's embarrassing."

paige shrugged once more, disagreeing with her statement, shaking her head. "it's kinda hot."

the woman simply laughed, true and genuine, throwing her head back once in amusement. those were honestly the last words she expected to hear from her.

"fuck, are you drunk?" she asked seriously, though she was still chuckling. something about paige saying that to her face completely sober just didn't add up in her mind, especially knowing how she was when she was under the influence.

"not anymore. wine isn't as strong as i thought."

shaking her head, trying to distract them both from that comment, mainly so she wouldn't blush, catherine started to brew together a joking insult to lighten the mood. "weird. for such a big person, you're such a lightweight."

"what the fuck do you mean 'big person'?" the blonde asked, jokingly offended, as she slid the now empty suitcase off of her bed, rolling it over to an open corner in her room.

catherine scoffed like it wasn't an obvious fact, hands coming up to rest on her exposed waist. "jeez, p, i mean—two dirty shirley's and you're gone."

"you're literally a liar!" paige countered, voice high pitched, unable to believe the playful teasing coming her way. she made her way over to catherine, sitting at the edge of her bed.

catherine's brows shot up, a challenging look on her face. "should i remind you of the first night we met."

"cat, you swore we wouldn't talk about it." paige warned, a finger coming up to hang in the air like it would pause the woman's thoughts, make her forget about what she was about to say. "plus, you put double shots." she explained to her defense.

however, catherine didn't hear any of that, a playful grin on her face as she thought about the fire she was going to start.

slightly inching towards the blonde, who was now fully sat at the edge of her bed, legs spread apart just a little, her feet planted on the ground, her voice dramatically mimicked paiges. "'you have such a great body, cat.'"

the woman simply shook her head, not willing to let her laugh come out. and she prayed that the heat now rising through her body at the reminders of how she first felt

for catherine wouldn't show up against her pale cheeks, her palms already growing sweaty.

"'mm, cat, that's such a cute name.'" the brunette continued, determined to get paige to crack. though this time, instead of trying to sound like paige, she put on her best, funny impression of a seductive voice, this making paige even more embarrassed.

"catherine!" paige pulled out the full name, begging her to stop. she couldn't believe this was happening.

"ah, cat, come meet me in the bathroom."

the blonde finally laughed out loud, shaking her head back and forth, waving a hand in the space between the two. "i didn't say that, you freak."

catherine scoffed, "me the freak? can you even recall the name of the girl you actually hooked up with in the bathroom that night?" she challenged once again.

to which paige had no answer for her, dismissing her completely. "oh, you wanna know about my sex life?" she challenged. "very personal."

the brunette rolled her eyes at her dismissal, though she was actually want to hear about her sex life, prompting her next response. "yeah, actually."

paige just shook her head, her turn to dismiss catherine, "get outta here.. acting like i was thirsting over you or sum."

"you so were."

paige's tongue met her front teeth, sucking against them and looking away, hiding her embarrassment. "was not. i'm just a nice person, thought you shoulda known."

catherine rolled her eyes, attempting to turn back and face the army of photos she had been observing. then, suddenly, a wave of confidence she didn't normally feel unless she was working the bar took over. though, it didn't come out as confident, more so just bold. especially since she was shyly looking away. "what else, then?"

paige furrowed her brows, taking a sip of the chocolate milk she had been lugging around with her all night, before reaching over to leave it on the nightstand where her lamp was, that being their only source of light. smacking the taste against her tongue one time, she asked, "'what else' what?"

maybe she got too ahead of herself. it could've been the wine from earlier, or the undeniable signs throughout their day together that they were both feeling the same, but she wanted to know for sure. she needed to know. "what else do you think."

even paige was unfamiliar with this kind of attitude from catherine, the shift in her tone and attitude clear as day. it was the kind that attracted her to the woman the first night they met. it made her cheeks grow hot, though it could've just been the wine. or maybe that was just an excuse. she wasn't sure what she wanted her mind to think.

"'bout you?" the woman asked, her tone more confident though she was nervous, both her and catherine's body language and tone of voice contradicting how they felt inside.

catherine simply nodded with a light hum. "mhm."

"for real?" paige asked again, and catherine nodded once more. she was genuinely curious now.

"i mean.. you're great with maddie." she started, her sweaty palms now feeling like pools the more she thought about her feelings for catherine in depth. for a moment, she clasped her hands together, before ultimately opting to let them fall at her sides, holding herself up against the soft bedding.

catherine wanted to roll her eyes, probably a reaction from the anxiety she was starting to feel. paige simply had to have more to say than that. and if she didn't—if all paige saw her as was a caregiver to madison—then catherine needed to reevaluate her feelings.

the brunette simply just cleared her throat softly, stepping back to lean against the dresser behind her. "that all?"

the blonde gently shook her head, soft eyes looking at the woman before her. "you're.. genuine."

catherine nodded, willing paige to keep going. to fulfill the need she was feeling. 'just say it' she begged internally.

"and smart. and caring." paige continued.

"that's it?" the woman asked one more time, though it came out more desperate and needy than whiny, her tone completely giving her away. paige playing hard to get was only further stressing out catherine.

paige quirked an eyebrow as her eyes shifted, something in them turning dark and catherine couldn't help but notice. her lips tugged into a small smirk, and her voice dropped an octave or two. "what do you want me to say?"

her voice was teasing, but not the way catherine was familiar with. no, something much more dangerous, intense and intimate. one that would send her home thinking about it for days and cursing herself for feeling so turned on by it.

and suddenly that need for paige—in her mind, her heart, and another place that need not be mentioned—was even closer to being satisfied.

the way she looked right now, the way she spoke, it was everything catherine had ever needed. she needed her. she wanted paige to stop playing. to just say how she felt. it was hypocritical because she herself couldn't even do it, but paige's hesitation only psyched her out more.

catherine took a deep breath, needing to steady her thoughts. they were going far too left, she needed to ground herself. but, man, was it hard. she sighed before she shook her head, "nothing.." she admitted, allowing their moment to die, turning back towards the dark colored dresser to finish up her snooping.

paige's face dropped at that, thinking they were finally about to get somewhere. that either of them were about to break, reveal the obvious. she then wondered why she herself hadn't made any moves yet. though she thought she was being the most obvious out of the two—and catherine only being obvious because she wasn't aware of how clearly she was showing her feelings—why couldn't she make herself tell catherine how she felt?

maybe she didn't want to mess anything up. catherine was consistent. something- someone in her life, in madison's life, that would always be there. and how she was with madison, their bond, it was like no other. a real, genuine connection that they shared that even paige herself couldn't wrap her head around. she couldn't possibly ruin that.

then again, what if something better came from this? paige had never even taken the time to think about settling down, though she knew she'd have to, and she'd want to one day, especially not so young and so fresh into her career. but, thoughts like these left her pondering. left her hoping.

"tell me." paige insisted, not willing to let this moment, their moment, vanish.

"paige.." the brunette trailed off, shaking her head lightly, turning on her heel to face the woman. she regretted the boldness she was feeling earlier and what it lead her to do. now, things felt more real. though it had all gone mostly unspoken, it was pretty clear. "you know i can't."

"why not?" paige pushed. this was the farthest they had ever gotten, and considering this was almost nothing, she had to keep trying. "c'mon, cat."

"it's not that easy." the woman spoke matter of factly, trying to hide how she felt with a plain face. paige could always see right through her, though.

"it can be." she stood from her spot on the bed, inching towards catherine. catherine's eyes followed paige, trailing up once she was fully standing, those few inches she had on her feeling a lot more powerful in this setting.

catherine's arms folded over her chest naturally, eyes still following the blonde coming closer, and closer. she was sure paige could hear her breath hitch in her chest, like she knew exactly what to expect.

in a swift, smooth motion, paige allowed her hand to creep up to catherine's face. slightly calloused fingers came up to hold her cheek, the blonde praying that her hands weren't still sweaty. thumb swiping against her cheekbone, she admired her face. that damn face that always made her melt. never leaving her mind, no matter what she did. her long fingers stretched across the woman's cheek, her hand sliding slightly upward, gently scratching against her scalp.

catherine's eyes shut instinctively at paige's touch, something about this new feeling already so comfortable, leaning into her. the woman sighed with a hum, one paige wanted to place as a soft moan vibrating in the back of her throat. she then let her arms drop from her chest, a gesture that was now symbolic, almost like how she was slowly letting her walls down.

"fuck, stop running from me." the woman pleaded, eyes soft, her tone hushed and raw, though it was meant to be endearing.

she didn't want catherine to disappear again. after their week apart, and the period when catherine was m.i.a. for a brief two weeks, it was the last thing she'd ever want. she couldn't handle catherine not being in her life, not even for a little bit. she wanted catherine around for everything, all the time, for the rest of her and madison's life.

catherine frowned. she couldn't see, her eyes still closed, but she could hear how emotional paige was just from those words. her tone, needy and affectionate, it made her knees weak.

"cat?" paige spoke gently. catherine's eyes, now doe, fluttered open, looking up at paige through her lashes. a small pout lied on her lips and she couldn't help but feel small, childish. paige was breaking down her walls, and fast, and she didn't know what to do.

their eyes met, and catherine knew paige was asking her a question through them. she wanted her to say something, anything.

but alas, catherine was running, after deliberately being asked not to.

"i don't know what to say." the brunette admitted, a frown playing on her plump lips. sad at how bad she was at not only accepting her feelings, but understanding them and being able to express them. catherine sighed, looking away from the blonde before her. "maybe we should call it a night. i'll sleep on the c—"

fortunately, catherine could never finish that statement.

paige's soft lips had met catherine's in a hushed and hurried manner, not wanting to hear the next excuse catherine was doing to ride with this time. not wanting to let her feelings for catherine go no where. not wanting to let their moment go.

the blonde had leaned down into the kiss, pulling catherine into her more and more, tilting her head up just slightly. her one hand rested comfortably between her cheek and the back of her head, while her free one opted to fall to her waist.

catherine's hands fell to paige's waist, still secured in the hoodie she had worn traveling back to storrs earlier that day. she wasn't sure if she wanted to smile into her or pull back.

the brunette was surprised to find herself kissing back in the first place, normally being the type to freeze up. the taste of the wine on her tongue and the chocolate milk on paige's creating an odd but addictive taste.

the kiss was enough to make her mind go mush, and almost completely forget about what she was about to say in the first place. however, it wasn't yet strong enough to keep her anxiety at bay.

pulling away almost frantically, catherine wondered. "fuck, what're you doing?" the woman asked, breathless.

the blonde just looked at her, a look in her eyes catherine has definitely never seen before, not willing to move her hands off of her.

"shutting you up." paige stated, matter of factly, just as out of breath, before she pulled catherine into her again.

authors note!

the things i'd do for some chocolate milk right now. anyways,

EEEEEEKKKKKKK!!!

finally, i've been dying for them to kiss for forever. it's about fucking time—now fuck😛 ugh honestly though i'm so excited, i just wanna write them for the rest of my life, im emotionally attached and invested LMAO

but, as per usually, tell me all of your thoughts! i know i always say this, but your comments are my favorite, and they give me so much motivation!!

thank you for reading! love yall!🩷

- mari 🫧

7.4k words.

[holy-puckslibrary]

— 𝐯𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐬.

pairing(s) — dilf!ERIK JOHNSON x ex-nanny!wife!reader (established); REESE JOHNSON (oc) x ex-nanny!stepmom!reader (platonic / familial)

wc — 4.7k synopsis — family weekend forces reese’s worlds to collide. results are… mixed note — i just really love reese. that's it :) and how dilfy does mr johnson look in that gif good lord

the nanny (series masterlist) | main masterlist

content warnings under the cut.

cw — age gap relationship (erik and the reader, established), vulgar college boys with no respect, busy-bodies who cannot mind their own beeswax, possessive!erik, pregnant!reader (not discussed in detail), sweet bby reese in peril :(

REESE JOHNSON has a problem.

It’s the sort of anxiety-trodden predicament that could’ve been soothed into nothingness had he spoken up sooner. He didn’t because he couldn’t. That was part of the problem. 

And now it’s too late—for solutions or comfort.

The teen, now a second-semester freshman at the University of Denver, had long since adjusted to the heightened scrutiny of his family in the early days of your relationship with his father. Everyone online had to throw in their two cents on the “illicit affair.” Even people who didn’t give a shit about hockey (evidenced by their inability to name a single team) felt they had a right to weasel their way in. While irritating and uncomfortable, the harsh reads didn’t bother him for too long because Reese knew the truth.

He also knew how unnecessarily ruthless people could be when they had a screen to hide behind. The son of a prominent figure in professional sports, Reese knew people stared at him through a very particular lens. It veered toward a rosy sheen every so often, but mostly it was smudged glass. Like a fish tank whose walls were muddy with the greasy impressions spectators left behind. Strangers offering commentary on his father’s life, and by extension his too, was part of the gig.

Frankly, the aftermath wasn’t much different than before. Only the subject matter changed. If it wasn’t thinly veiled insults about Erik’s waning career or his prior inability to keep a girlfriend, it was overly critical evaluations of Reese’s prowess or lack thereof and, unsurprisingly, comparisons between father and son. Without fail, the verbiage and tone implied competition, hinting that their healthy bond was only a bit of showmanship to hide the rocky resentment beneath.

This weekend is different. Sure, his teammates and friends had already gotten ample face-time with both of his parents, as well as his kid sister, but never all at once. Though they all did their best to coordinate, busy schedules rendered a revolving cheering section for Reese Johnson. 

This weekend—family weekend—will change that. By some stroke of luck (or a cruel twist of fate, the jury's still out on that one), everyone would be here… together. And that’s not to say he isn’t grateful for their effort or that he isn’t excited because he is. Reese is thrilled to share this new slice of life with his loved ones. It’s just that…

Reese knows how it looks when they venture out into the world.

Not that his dad is exactly old or even old-looking. In the same way you aren’t questionably young. Still, the age difference is noticeable. Before you were more than a nanny to the Johnsons (if you were ever just a nanny to begin with), it was easier for on-lookers to assess the dynamic, and still, albeit seldomly, they would drum up gossip. Things got remarkably more awkward, though, after his father finally plucked up the courage to propose, and increased tenfold once Erik had a gold band to match. It was as if the wedding ushered in the open season on Johnsons.

More times than he cared to count, Reese found himself cupping Josie’s ears to keep his little sister from hearing jeering crowds calling their dad an old pervert and you a shameless gold-digger. No one’s had to explain what a “sugar daddy” is (or why it's the first thing that auto-populates when you plug ‘Erik Johnson’ into Google), but the burden would’ve fallen on Reese if he hadn’t left her in the car while he ran in to grab a takeout order last summer.

But Erik’s eldest isn’t just worried about his family existing outside the warmth and safety of their insulated bubble. His sleepless nights are filled with fear. Fear of the pain and sadness he’ll undoubtedly feel about it all now that he sees you less as his friend and more as a maternal figure.

Reese’s always been protective; it's led to many a fight with his own father and, sometimes, his own sister. He’s the first to rush to your aid and the strongest force in your defense. The habit, however,  strengthened when his perspective shifted as swiftly as flipping a switch. 

Suddenly, you weren’t just his dad’s girlfriend or the person who made him pancakes in the morning. Or the savior who dropped off his English paper because he was in such a hurry he left it on the printer. You were a confidant, someone he called for when he was in a bad spot or when he wanted to see the latest mind-numbingly bad action flick. When he asked his date to prom, it was you he wanted help from. When Reese was sick, your home remedies worked better than anything store-bought or concocted by his dad. When practice ran over, he could count on you to wait up with his dinner hot and ready, the rest of the house already fast asleep. 

For the first time since he could remember, the Dad-shaped gap wasn’t devastating. It hurt like a bitch, but it was bearable because he had another adult—another parent—he could rely on. In every sense of the word, you were his mom.

And no one wants to hear disgusting lies about their mom.

However, Reese hasn’t called you that yet. At least, not to your face. In passing to his childhood friends or when referring to you with Josie, sure, and once or twice over the phone with Erik, but when he calls for you, he uses your first name like he's still your “nanny-kid.” But it's not for a lack of trying. It’s just that every time he thinks he’s worked up the nerve, the three letters catch in his throat like molasses, and he doesn’t know how to make it stop. 

Moments like those are the rare few he wishes he were Josie instead of himself. His jovial spitfire of a sister never missed a chance. During her lunch block with classmates, on the phone with their extended family, to strangers at Avs games, or on the sidewalk, the moniker slipped off Josie Johnson’s tongue like water down a slide. Their dad liked to poke fun, warning her to be careful so as not to wear it out from overuse.

Maybe it was the sister snuggled in your stomach that tightened his throat. The baby that could and would call you “Mom” with little effort beyond mastering the string of sound. The baby that would grow up not knowing you as anything besides her mother. It was a shade of ownership Reese felt hesitant to touch. No matter how desperately he yearned to.

The closest he’s come is penning in the title beneath your name on the lanyard that’ll hang from your neck for upcoming festivities. It was a small gesture. Still, it felt like too much and not enough all at once.

Reese is caught between wanting to honor the bond and all you’ve done with the accurate label and the fear of explicitly acknowledging it stirs in his chest. At least in this limbo of sorts, as cumbersome as it's become, Reese can have what he’s always wanted and keep you in his life without risking capsizing the boat with an awkward declaration. It’s an uneasy compromise, but it's the devil he knows. At least he knows what and when to feed it.

Reese hates that he’s letting his worries dictate his life. It's just… hard. No one tells kids how to navigate gaining a new parent or any of the baggage that unique situation carries. No one tells kids how to trust the position’s new occupant not to follow in their predecessor’s footsteps. In his heart, Reese knows you won’t run. But knowing that doesn’t shut down the nagging voice in the back of his mind. The one that drones on like a broken record, telling him that the burden of the word, knotted with his expectations, will be his family’s unraveling.

He couldn’t do that to Josie. To his dad. Or to you and the little sister you’re carrying. 

So, he’ll stomach it. For how long, Reese isn’t sure. But, for now, he’ll stand on the outskirts of the minefield, bidding time.

"Johnson! Your whole family's coming, right?" Kody, a junior defenseman from Fort Collins, yanks Reese from his downward spiral.

The last place he wants to be right now is out in the world. The last thing he needs is to cannonball himself back into the fishbowl. Even if the phantom audience never spoke to him, sometimes their heavy attention pushing into his back was enough to send Reese reeling.

But he made a promise to make more of an effort. To be more social, to have more fun—to take life a little less seriously. 

In his mind, if he was at school to learn and play hockey, there was little room to wiggle. Sure, Reese has had his fair share of adolescent recklessness and could lean toward boyish immaturity at times, but at his core, he was a rule-follower. A responsibility fiend with a penchant for playing the white knight. A stickler for structure. When given the choice between a teenage dream and a full-grown reality, the freshman chose the latter nine times out of ten. 

Reese Johnson’s moral compass weighs down his back pocket; he feels most at peace when things fit neatly into their proper boxes. Good and bad, black and white. One or the other, never both.

Stress and anxiety exacerbate his mental rigidity. And he’s been so fucking far from zen lately.

Reese would’ve broken the stupid promise if it’d been made to anyone besides you. So, when a few of the upperclassmen on the team appeared at his dorm with an invitation to get pizza, he begrudgingly accepted.

It isn’t so bad. Far from awful this far. Definitely not the worst way to spend an evening. His teammates were alright enough guys, and their girlfriends weren’t as callous as he’d expected. Reese just found it hard to connect with them, a situation that couldn’t be more different than his previous team experience. 

With his childhood friends, it all clicked. Fell into place without much real effort from any of them. There was an awkward period, but it ended within the first month and, honestly, had more to do with prepubescent cringe than anything.

An entire semester came and went, and Reese still felt like an outsider. When he looked out onto the ice, he saw a sea of strangers. They had different interests, different priorities. Inside jokes he wasn’t in on. Ones he wasn’t sure he wanted to be in on. Even their sense of decorum was foreign. He was well-acquainted with profanity and vulgar jibes, but Reese’s neck still occasionally heats at their… colorful chirps.

But maybe this will be a good step, Reese thinks to himself as he clears the nerves from his throat, making room for an answer to Kody’s question.

“Uh, yeah. My parents and my little sister,” he nods. The blip of quiet that follows coaxes out further details. “They’re going to skip the mixer-campout thing tomorrow night because of the baby, but they’ll be at the student fair and our scrimmage the next day.”

It feels odd to talk about his family. The words, somehow both intensely personal and casual at the same time, taste funny on his tongue. Reese’s stomach clenches, suddenly too aware that he’s never really had to do this before, the small talk. Back home, everyone knows everyone. There’s little to talk about by way of mundane facts because there’s no need; it would be incredibly redundant. His friends from home wouldn’t think to ask if his family was coming, nor would they nudge him to share their schedule. They’d just know.

Reese is aware that this is a silly thing to get worked up over, or even care about at all. He knows it’s part of the process. Part of making new friends is letting them know you. Telling them about yourself and your life, and all the people in your life. Especially the ones you love. Offering up bits of yourself in exchange for bits of them. Still, it's unsettling. Like he’s inviting a group of strangers to pass judgment on his unconventional family. 

No one’s said anything, but Reese already feels defensive. 

And rightly so, he’d soon find.

"That was quick."

Lane, a senior forward from some beach town in California, draws first blood. The quip seems innocuous, but the shit-eating grin undermines any plausible deniability. Even without his smug expression, they probably would’ve understood the implication lurking below the surface anyway. 

It isn’t the isolated comment that burns the tips of Reese’s ears. It’s the fact that he’s never spoken about the circumstances or the timeline of your relationship with his father. Reese hasn’t tried to hide anything, but he certainly hasn’t been forthcoming either. For all they knew, you could’ve been Josie’s biological mother. A long shot, but feasible enough if you didn't know any better. 

But somehow, this kid from out of state knew. Knew that, by “traditional” standards, it was a little soon for his parents to be welcoming a new life.

"Can you blame him? Hot young thing at your beck and call?” Kent, a sophomore from outside of Toronto, cuts in before Reese can. 

The lecherous glint in the winger’s tone makes his skin crawl. He doesn’t need to look up from his half-eaten slice of Hawaiian to know his mouth matches Lane’s.

“Fuck, dude. I would've knocked her up before she dragged me down the aisle. But, I've heard Viagra massacres your swimmers, so maybe that wasn’t in the cards for Ol’ Johnson.”

The group, crowded around a hodgepodge of tables, descends into a fit of snickers and profanity.

Reese contemplates leaving until a manicured hand gently squeezes his arm. Callahan Graham blinks up at him, a sweet smile tight on her rosy mouth. Callahan “Callie” Graham, Lane’s on-again-off-again girlfriend of three years. They’re “off” right now, if he’s remembering correctly. Not that it matters. She doesn’t say anything, but she doesn’t need to. Reese’s chin dips in gratitude.

From across the table, Callie’s roommate, Greer, pipes up over the commotion. “I hope I'm as cute as she is when I'm pregnant."

"Me too," Bree, one of the other girlfriends, sighs dreamily into her Diet Coke. "I couldn't believe how pretty she looked the last time she brought Josie to watch you play, Reese. If I was pregnant and holding down a two-kid fort by all by myself for most of the year, I know I'd look it. But I guess that’s just another perk of true love, isn’t it? Beauty in spite of it all.”

Kent snorts. “True love…right.”

Reese’s molars pinch together. Beneath the table, he picks at his nails. It hurts, but it's the distraction he needs right now.

"It's not like being a trophy wife is a real job anyway, so I'm sure that helps. Just lie back and spread those pretty—"

Reese’s fist finishes Lane’s sentence. As badly as he wants to put it through the douchebag’s face, he (thankfully) had the foresight to direct his anger downward. It was the succinct thwack! of his hand against the table that cut the lewd thought off prematurely. 

Reese is a striking juxtaposition; hardened jaw, sharp eyes, pinched mouth—silent. Only his chest moves. Shallowly, the accent on the exhalations.

For a moment, everything is still. It’s nice. While it lasts.

Kody is the one to crack the ill-fated stalemate. Trepidation peeking through the tiny cracks in his smooth confidence, he approaches like a hunter would an agitated deer, “Loosen up, Reese. We're just having fun. And, if anything, it's a compliment."

Reese openly glares, unconvinced.

Kody persists, deadset on being the one to subdue the beast. “Come on, even you have to admit your dad's locked down a fuckin’ tenner. A real win for Team Geriatric, I’d say. You should be proud of him, kid.”

This isn’t the first time someone’s prodded Reese about your physical appearance. He wasn’t blind. He knew you were attractive, but you’d never entered that part of his brain before. Ever. It's as if his subconscious preemptively locked you away in the same box as his dad and kid sister, or any other family member. But they weren’t asking if he thought you were pretty, not really.

The omnipresent “They” wanted to know if he thought you were attractive the way he thought Pedro Pascal or Olivia Rodrigo was attractive. They wanted to know if he felt the way his dad felt about you. They’re probing for a twisted scandal, a sick taboo love triangle. As if they weren’t already gorging themselves on the age difference or the boss/employee origin story. 

They wanted more. They always wanted more. They wanted to take one of the best parts about Reese’s life and fuck it up.

His teammates are proving themselves no different than the losers populating Twitter.

“She ever read to you a story before bed?” Lane again.

Then Kent, in quick succession. “Tuck you in nice and tight, and come running when you had a nightmare?”

There’s barely enough time between the two to squeeze in a meager answer. Though Reese surmises that’s by design. 

Innuendos are funnier when they have a single target in the audience to fly over. At least, to people with cheap senses of humor. Easy laughs are no accomplishment when they weaponize the feelings of an innocent bystander. Even in his anger, Reese wouldn’t have humored them with a doe-eyed reply of feigned ignorance. It wasn't earned. 

“If I got to spend all of high school being coddled by a rocket, I'd still be milking that shit. Maybe if you had, she would've fucked you instead of your dad."

Reese’s brow shrinks to a contemptuous pinch. It wouldn’t take much for him to be reacquainted with his dinner; it’s already halfway there. 

As he looks over at Kody, he loses what little hope he had that he’d find a place in this friend group. He hasn’t found his people yet, on the team or in general, but Reese is certain they’re not sitting around him tonight.

"How far along's your mom?" Callie seizes the conversation knowingly.

Briefly, her pale eyes slice pointedly in the direction of her… whatever Lane is to her, and then back to Reese, warmth restored.

"Uh, almost seven months? But Josie and I were both late, so Dad thinks we'll have to wait until the end of summer until she's here. Maybe they’ll share a birthday.”

"She?" one of the freshman girls squeals, clutching her companion’s forearm in excitement.

"Yeah," Reese says bashfully, head dipping to conceal the grin tugging the corners of his mouth. The meat of his cheeks ache with joy. “Two sisters."

"I give Johnson Sr. six months before he puts the moves on Nanny 2.0,” Lane’s whisper pierces the lukewarm calm that settled the table at his… Callie’s hand. 

She kicks his shin. Hard.

"You really think the old timer's game is that reliable?" Kent picks up the slack between open-mouth chews.

And Kody is not far behind, “He's decently famous and moderately rich. That was enough the first time, so why wouldn't it work for the second? Or, Junior, maybe this next one can be yours—if you pull your head out of your ass in time, that is."

Reese is done. Has met—no, exceeded his limit. He doesn’t have to sit here and take this. Yeah, it would be better for the locker-room culture if he stuck around, but a boost in morale wasn’t worth the decimation of his pride.

His goodbye is simple but effective. The deafening screeeeech! of his chair sliding back on the linoleum.

The sidewalk is blurry beneath his feet as he trudges back to safety. Whether it's the tears’ fault or how quickly he’s running, Reese can’t be sure. All he knows is that he needs to be as far away from them as possible.

He needs… he needs…

Reese’s fingers tremble defiantly while he fishes for his phone. He continues to fight with them, shoving his key into the door and pushing it open with the other as he scrolls through the call log. He slams the world out and hits the green icon.

“Reese? Are you okay?” your groggy, but no less sweet voice flits through his phone. 

Only two rings. 

Reese’s shoulders melt, comforted by the familiar warmth of what home sounds like. But his mouth remains frozen, stuck. 

You allow a few beats of silence to lapse, giving him ample space to answer if he is able and wants to before speaking again. “Do we need to come up tonight?”

He blinks, attempting to wash away the salty film over his eyes to read the clock above his desk. 1:37 AM, the angry red letters read. 

Guilt seeps into the mix of nasty emotions monopolizing his body. The acidic cocktail begins its ascent of his tender throat.

You shouldn’t be up right now. Not this late, not when his sister’s made you an insomniac for so much of your pregnancy. Not because someone was mean to him.

Reese feels like an asshole. An inconsiderate asshole bothering you with his problems in the middle of the night, knowing you’re already sacrificing your weekend for him.

“Fuck, I’m sorry for waking you and the baby, and probably Dad, too. I—It's nothing, really. It can wait. We can talk about it when it's not, y’know, the middle of the night.”

“Reese, no one sets off the alarm on my Bullshit Radar faster than you do. You wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t urgent. Talk to me, Reeses Pieces. You know I won’t be able to go back to sleep knowing you’re not alright.”

Reeses Pieces. The nickname, said with such casual affection, is like a magic wand.

“Uh— I-I, um… I had a, um, a r-really bad night… and I— and I just really needed to hear y-your voice, Mom.”

It slips out. Slips free. It just… slips into the mix with all the other words like it belongs there, too. And it does. It feels right. Reese feels a twinge of satisfaction. Regardless of the circumstances (and the night he’s had), it happened.

It finally happened.

The floor crumbles a little and gentle flames lick at Reese’s cheeks. His phone feels as though it's floating up and away from his clammy palm. He’s telling his fingers to tighten their grip, to hold on. They hesitate, and when they finally decide to obey, it only makes matters worse. He fumbles, nearly dropping his phone to the floor. The elephant easing down onto his chest is making it hard to focus, to think, to listen. 

“Reese? Did I lose you, bub?”

He blinks himself out of the daze. “Hmm? No, I—I, sorry. I’m here.”

“Oh, Reesey. I was just saying I was glad you called then. I mean, I always love it when you call. Even when it’s to tell me you sent your Airpods through the washing machine. Again.”

Reese barks out a phlegmy laugh.

Note to self: the rice hack only works the first time you let your electronics go for a swim.

Second note to self: this reaction—this non-reaction is better than any teary blubbering or callous rejection. Normalcy doesn’t require a reaction.

“You can always, always call me. Especially when you’re having a rough time. Even when it's the middle of the night. My main priority in life is making sure you’re safe and happy, you and JoJo. And the peanut sitting on my bladder. And the 6’4 blanket-hog snoring like a hacksaw beside me.”

“Maybe we should get Dad a sleep study coupon for his birthday,” Reese teases.

He feels better now. You, and finally being courageous enough to be vulnerable, was the medicine. Reese feels lighter than he has since you dropped him off in September.

You snort. “I’ll gladly pay to see your dad covered in wires. But, as much as I love laughing at his expense when he’s none-the-wiser, that's not why you called. Spill it.”

He does. The spiel tumbles out like an overdue avalanche, and Reese hardly realizes how quickly he’d been talking until he finishes with burning lungs. You listened patiently, letting him get it all out without interruption. You were good about that, knowing when someone needed room to rant more than they needed interjections with guidance or commentary. Reese usually fell in the first category, tonight being no exception.

“…I just don’t get why they found it so funny. Or why they even thought to say it in the first place. It's so...gross.”

He listens to you sigh and knows you’re doing it through your teeth. You’re probably massaging the waves of frustration between your eyebrows, nose scrunched. Josie calls it your ‘Dragon Face’ because of the way frustration contorts your features, but Reese adopted the term into his own lexicon because it almost always appeared when someone threatened the safety of your family. Like him, you’re generous with your protection. Fierce without delay. 

“Because you aren’t them, Reese. You’ve always had a strong sense of right and wrong, respectful and not. And you’re rarely swept up by group-think, if ever. Those things may feel like a curse right now, but I promise they’ll be superpowers one day.”

“I wish I could fast-forward to that day. This sucks,” he groans, tossing himself backward onto his twin bed.

“It does suck. Majorly. Still, even if you had time travel in your vast arsenal of powers, I’d tell you to stay put, Reese. Part of college is learning how to deal with immature people, building up a tolerance for their bullshit as you grow stronger and more confident in yourself.”

“But I’m not strong. I ran away crying like a little baby,” Reese croaks into his pillow. A warm saltiness tickles his eyelashes.

“You removed yourself from a bad situation, and you let yourself feel your feelings in the present tense. Those are both huge wins in my book,” you counter.

Your voice is louder now, stronger. Like coaxing Reese—coaxing your son out of a pit of self-pity breathed all the energy you lacked for the better part of a year back into you. The subtle shift whittles away some of his earlier guilt.

“It takes guts to do that, Reese. Most people spend years trying to learn what you did instinctively. Some people never learn to do it at all. And don’t tell anyone, but I’d put money on Kody, Lane, and Kent being some people.”

Reese snorts. “I know you’re right, but I think what’s actually bugging me is that you guys’ll be subjected to that shit this weekend. It’s one thing for them to say it to me, but it’s another to say it to you or in front of JoJo. I hate that people care so much about us and our business that they can’t keep their mouths shut. If you don’t feel comfortable coming now, I would totally understand. Fuck, if I were you, I’d never visit again. Maybe I could come home this weekend instead?”

“Reese, as sweet as that is, the only thing that’ll stop me from coming this weekend is early labor, not chauvinist pigs.”

“You shouldn’t even have to hear it, though. And besides, won’t smiting college kids stress the baby out?” Reese asks, worry tearing through his voice despite the lighter tone.

“Do you honestly think your dad will let them get more than a couple words out?” you ask through an airy chuckle.

For the second time tonight, someone else speaks before Reese can.

Erik’s voice is muffled and gravelly, but the protective bite—the very same one that took hold of Reese at dinner and you just moments ago—is loud, “They’ll keep their mouths shut if they want to keep whatever teeth they have left.”

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[jjungkookislife]

The Nanny Ch. 4 Teaser

pairing: lawyer!seokjin x nanny!reader

genre: established relationship, parents au, fluff, 18+

summary: Jin needs a nanny for his son, but when he hires you, he gets that and so much more.

teaser wc: 350

teaser date: May 1, 2024

release date: May 4, 2024 at 12pm CDT

The holidays come and go in your new home, ecstatic to decorate with Dae and Jin. Your family and his get along so well, and everyone dotes over Dae-Hyun, who shies away from so much attention. 

With his birthday coming up soon he’s due to enroll in preschool. It leaves your heart feeling heavy. You weren’t ready to part with Dae just yet, your life had been nothing but him for almost 2 years, and the idea of sending him off, even if it was just half a day—left you sad. 

Seokjin was faring much better though, he was used to leaving Dae at home when he had to go to work, and even though it was rough, he had to come to terms with the fact that he wouldn’t get updates as often from his new preschool teachers. However, Dae needed to socialize with his peers, make new friends, and learn in a school setting to prepare him for Kindergarten in the fall. Seokjin wasn’t looking forward to that either, the thought had anxiety brewing in his belly. 

“What if I homeschool him?” You asked as you stroked Dae’s hair while he slept between you and Seokjin. 

Seokjin sighed, shaking his head. “He needs to go to school, baby. We can’t be his only friends.”

“But he’s my little buddy,” you pout.

“We’ll meet his teacher tomorrow and see how it goes. Nothing is set in stone just yet but he should at least go to get acclimated before school starts in the fall. We won’t be there to hold his hand and guide him,” Seokjin reasons as he places his hand over yours. 

“I guess you’re right,” you acquiesce, biting your lip before you settle into bed. 

“It’s gonna suck,” Seokjin chuckles and your frown deepens. “But it’ll be good for him, I promise.”

“I trust you,” you say, muffling a yawn but Seokjin notices it. 

“Go to bed, baby. We'll handle this tomorrow,” you nod, yawning as you pull the covers over you, making sure Dae isn’t covered from the shoulders up. 

“Good night.”

[absurdthirst]

Property of Dave York {Dave York x F!Nanny!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 9.2k

Warnings: Voyeurism, video surveillance, masturbation, kidnapping, threats of violence, coercion, dub-con, derogatory language, gun play, spanking, oral sex (male receiving ) rough sex, choking, guilt, forced cuckolding, cream pie, anxiety, break up texts, murder, fingering, pussy slapping, sex toys, anal fingering, anal, double penetration, aftercare, forced imprisonment

Comments: Carol's offer of the York family cabin for a romantic weekend away for you and your boyfriend turns dark and deadly when Dave shows up. Unhappy with how you are being fucked and deciding to take you for himself.

🚨🚨DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT - this story contains dark theme of coercion, dub-con due to deadly threats, murder, imprisonment - do not read if this bothers you🚨🚨

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Dave York MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Are you sure?” You ask Carol, eyes wide as she offers to let you use the family cabin for the weekend. 

“Absolutely. I'm heading out of town to see my mom with the girls. Dave will be here and we want to reward you for all of your hard work. You’re so good with the girls and do so much above and beyond. We want to reward you.” Carol offers you a sweet smile. 

You shake your head, “I don’t know what to say.” You admit and Dave smiles, “just say yes.” 

You nod, overwhelmed by how good the Yorks treat you, “th-thank you.” You reply and they both smile. It’s a reward beyond your dreams to get to spend the weekend in the woods with your boyfriend at the York family cabin. Little do you know that Dave hates the idea. 

You were hired about a year ago to be the live-in nanny to the York family. At first, they seemed like any other suburban dream but you began to notice small details that tipped off the fact that maybe Dave isn’t the man he says he is. The blood stained clothes on the floor in the mud room late one night and he told you he cut himself yet that was too much blood for an injury you couldn’t see. Then the random calls which meant Dave would disappear for days on end after. 

The weirdest thing is the man’s internet history. When trying to search the computer for Molly’s schedule, you accidentally came across a page that detailed the internet history of the house and you, being curious, clicked on some of the links. Porn. But not your average vanilla stuff. This was bondage, it was BDSM. It was rough. Fuck, that must be Dave. The time stamp was the middle of the night and you know Carol can’t survive without her sleep. 

You hate to admit it but you touched yourself to thoughts of Dave treating you like that. He’s so sexy, authoritative, and secretive. Maybe that makes him sexier. Well, certainly when compared to Johnny, your sweet boyfriend who won’t even so much as spank you. Still, you can’t get involved in any way. This is your boss and you’d be risking your job and home and a mortifying rejection since you know Dave doesn’t want you like that. No, you’ll enjoy the cabin this weekend with Johnny and maybe you can get off thinking of dirtier things while your boyfriend sweetly goes down on you.

The smile on Dave’s face is a very practiced one. One that doesn’t show the anger, that only flashes for a brief second in his eyes before he blinks it away. Carol hadn’t talked about this with him and he wants to snatch the keys away from you as his wife holds them for you to take. Instead, he smiles. “Just say yes.” He watches as you sputter and take the keys to the cabin he had bought and was normally a weekend getaway from him and the girls. Often when he needed to recuperate from a rough mission or a job had gotten too close. Why the fuck had Carol decided to give his fucking cabin to the nanny for the weekened ot use as a fucking sex room? That dipshit you were dating wouldn’t know what the fuck he was doing. Could he even build a fire? He scoffs to himself and grinds his teeth, furious as he thinks about that fucker touching you. It’s bad enough when you have weekends off and you come home smelling like sex and cheap ass beer like you were at some frat party. Probably had been. “You know how to get there, right?” He asks you, knowing he hasn’t told you where the cabin is although Carol might have. 

You nod, “Carol gave me the coordinates. Johnny is pretty good at navigating so we shouldn’t have a problem. It’s okay if I take him, right?” You ask, biting your lip. Fuck, Dave wants to say no but he knows that won’t help him. Carol can’t get suspicious of his desires otherwise you’ll be gone and he can’t allow that. “Of course you can take Johnny.” Carol promises and you grin. 

“Thank you so much.” 

Carol nods, “don’t think anything of it. It’s all set, right Dave?” 

He swallows down his annoyance, “it’s all set.” He offers you a sickly smile that has your stomach knotting and Carol pats his hand, “excellent.” She winks and you grip the keys, eager to tell your boyfriend about the weekend away.

****

“You girls be good for your mother, and grandma and grandpa, okay?” Dave winks at Alice and reaches out to tug on one of Molly’s pigtails. 

“Daddy!!!” Molly shrieks, batting his hand away as she giggles and he chuckles. 

“I mean it.” He raises his eyebrows at them before moving up to the driver’s side window where Carol is already behind the wheel. “Drive carefully, honey.” He urges, knowing that while he might not love her like he probably should, she is important to him. Plus he wants his girl’s to be safe. While he feels like there is something missing inside him, not able to really connect with his wife, he loves his children. “Call me when you get to your moms.” He leans in and presses his lips to hers quickly before he pulls away. His plans for the weekend have changed and he needs his wife to leave on time, so he had helped her pack up the Mercedes. 

**** 

“Wow. This place is sweet.” Johnny grins as you enter the cabin. He’s carrying your travel bag and you admire the decor of the cabin. It’s simple but rustic and you love it. You love being out in the woods, the sound of nature, and of course, being there with your boyfriend. He’s sweet and kind and everything you should want and this weekend you’re going to try and remind yourself of that. Johnny sets your bags down, reaching for you to pull you close, his hands squeezing your ass. “And the best thing is not having to sneak around. We have the whole weekend to do whatever we want.” Johnny kisses along your neck and you smirk, knowing he’s eager to touch you. Has been since you left the York house.

The rustic charm of the house hides the sophisticated camera system. Hidden discreetly in areas that won’t be noticed by anyone who isn’t a trained operative. Carol had never noticed. Now, Dave watches you, glaring at the screen of his laptop as your boyfriend gropes your ass and slides his hand up to cup your tit as he tries to steer you back towards the sofa. “Asshole.” He hisses, jealous that you let this fucker touch you. His cock twitches, making him reach down to palm himself through his pants as he imagines himself with you on that couch. Showing you what getting fucked should be like. 

You let Johnny lay you down on the sofa and he’s quick to remove your shirt, tossing it down and you reach behind you to unclasp your bra, exposing your tits unknowingly to Dave’s gaze until Johnny takes your nipple into his mouth, making you moan. “Fuck. That’s good.” You sigh, running your fingers through his hair as he sucks but it’s not hard enough, not rough enough.

“Fuck.” Dave hisses, reaching up to slide the end from the belt buckle. His cock throbbing in his pants and he’s already decided that he’s going to jerk off, watching you get fucked by this pathetic excuse for a boy. There’s nothing really wrong with Johnny, Dave hates him solely because he wants you. Wants to use you and show you what you really want when you look at him with those searching eyes. Pulling his hard cock out, Dave spits in his hand and starts to smear it over the sensitive head. 

When Johnny slides inside of you, he’s asking if you’re comfortable and you want to roll your eyes. “Fuck.” He hisses in pleasure at how wet and tight you are and you want him to squeeze your throat. You want him to fuck you like it’s your last day on earth. You want him to ruin you but he won’t. You wrap your legs around him, trying to push him deeper. “Fuck baby. You’re so wet.” Johnny groans and you want to be spiteful and tell him you were thinking about Dave being in this cabin, imagining him fucking you, wrecking you.

Dave strokes his cock, hard and fast as he imagines how tight you would be. The squeals he would pull from you would be much better than those damn fake moans you are putting on for him. “You would cry for me.” He grunts, watching you wrap your legs around him. He wonders if Johnny actually buys your moans, if he believes that you are actually enjoying yourself. His cock is slick in his hand, gripping it harshly as he jerks off. 

“Oh my God, I’m cumming!” You cry, throwing your head back as you grip him inside of you, faking yet another orgasm. You moan, glancing up at the ceiling, letting out another fake moan as you wait for Johnny to cum inside of you. He’s grunting, his face buried in your neck, and you whimper, “cum for me baby.” You try to egg him on, squeezing his cock in your walls and you moan his name. 

“Gonna cum. Gonna cum.” He groans, thrusting into you a half dozen more times before he cums.

Dave grunts, holding his breath as he starts to cum. Ropes of his sticky seed coating the towel he had covering the steering wheel of his car as he cums. Stroking himself through the high and watching you as you lay under Johnny limply, helping him ride out his orgasm while very obviously not experiencing your own. He wouldn’t let that happen. Milking the last drops of his release before he sits back in the seat and pants, making up his mind on what he will do next. 

You are cooking when you hear the noise. Confused by the clicking sound and you turn the stove off and on again, wondering if that’s the noise. “Johnny?” You call out, wondering where he is. He isn’t usually this quiet. He’s usually annoying you by now, wanting to incessantly talk about his video games or the latest thing he read on Reddit. You turn off the stove, the pasta sauce is cooked anyway, and you will probably find Johnny lounging on the sofa. “Johnny, baby. I-” You scream, finding Johnny tied to a chair and a gag in his mouth.

A hand comes around your mouth, covering it and hot breath washes over your ear. “Ah ah ah, no screaming baby, not yet.” Dave hums in your ear, grinning at the furious expression on your boyfriend’s face. “Your boyfriend didn’t even lock the fucking door. Anyone could have wandered into the cabin.”

Your eyes widen at hearing Dave’s voice in your ear. Your heart pounds in both fear and arousal. His body is pressed against yours and you shiver against him. Your hands are gripping his wrist but it’s no use, he’s stronger than you. “Be calm and nothing bad happens.” He coos and lowers his hand from your mouth. 

“Please. Let - let us go. We will leave. I- I am sorry Mr. York.” You promise, aware to an extent of what he is capable of.

“What are you sorry for?” Dave asks you, “fucking on my couch? Or faking your orgasm.” He shakes his head. “It was pathetic, watching you moan like a whore when we both know you were counting down the seconds until he came and rolled off you.” He tuts and watches Johnny huff and tug against the ropes tying him to the chair in amusement. “So I decided I’m going to show him how you should be fucked.”

Your eyes widen even more and you step away from Dave. “Wha-what? I- Dave. I- don’t understand.” You shake your head and step towards Johnny. “I- I swear to you baby I had - I don’t know what he’s talking about.” You try to assure your boyfriend who is tied up and Dave chuckles, reaching for your wrists to grip them in his. 

“Don’t lie, baby. That’s not nice. You gotta tell him the truth. He doesn’t make you scream. He doesn’t make you writhe. I’ve seen it. I know it. You don’t soak his cock with your cum.” Dave declares and your cunt clenches at the deep words, the truth you’ve been too scared to say. Johnny laughs around the gag again and you wonder how the hell he’s so oblivious. 

“He’s not wrong.” You confess in a whisper.

Dave smirks and looks over at Johnny smugly. “Strip off your clothes.” Dave orders, squeezing your wrists before letting go. “First, I’m going to punish you for letting this boy touch you. You could have just asked and I would have bent you over my desk every night after Carol and the girls were asleep. Or maybe the washing machine in the basement. That way you don’t wake them up with your squealing.” He chuckles as he steps back and reaches for the hem of his shirt. “You cleaned his cum out of your cunt, didn’t you?”

You nod, knowing this is so wrong. It’s so wrong. You can’t fuck Dave in front of your boyfriend. “I- I showered.” You confess and swallow harshly at the sight of Dave shirtless, several scars litter his skin from his past and it attracts you to him even more. 

“I told you to strip.” Dave orders and you shake your head, “I can’t do it.” You choke, knowing this is wrong. Dave shakes his head, reaching into the back of his pants to pull out a gun. 

“If you don’t strip, I’m gonna spread your boyfriend’s brains over the carpet and no one will ever find him.” Your eyes widen, looking at Johnny’s frantic, scared look, and you know Dave doesn’t fuck around. You reach for your shirt, starting to strip off with shaking hands.

Dave watches as your plain bra is revealed, smirking when you reach behind you and shakily unclasp it. “Those are nice tits.” He hums. “Your boyfriend should have sucked on them more. Bitten them and pulled on them.” His cock twitches in his pants and grunts, “I will. Maybe I’ll get some clamps out for them. Make them really sore.”

You whimper at his words, avoiding the glare from your boyfriend who is shaking his head. He never sucks on your tits, always gets right to fucking you. Sometimes he will go down on you but it’s too sweet. It doesn’t make you gasp and writhe. You toss your bra down and hook your fingers in your leggings, pushing them down and kicking them aside so you are left in your panties. 

“Ah ah ah. All of it.” Dave tuts as he pulls his belt through the loops. You look at Johnny as you push your panties down, the gun is still in Dave’s hand so you kick the underwear aside to stand bare before Dave.

“You don’t deserve her.” Dave turns his comment towards Johnny. Shaking his head in disappointment. “She shouldn’t be able to walk, let alone make dinner after you fuck her.” He slaps the belt against his palm and smirks. “Shouldn’t be able to move.” He flicks open the button of his pants and motions to the couch. “Bend over. I’m going to spank you for fucking on my couch.”

You shake your head, glancing over at Johnny and Dave tuts, pointing the gun at the younger man. “Do you want me to blow his brains out?” You shake your head frantically and move over to the sofa, kneeling on it as you shiver in anticipation for what Dave is going to do to you, knowing it’s so wrong to already be turned on.

You shake your head, “please Dave.” You beg and he smacks your ass again. 

“Call me sir.” He demands and you nod, “sir.” He hums in delight and rubs your ass, making you arch your back. 

“Fuck. I need more.” You tell him, finally letting your desires escape, the ones you’ve concealed for so long.

He pauses for a second, grinning in triumph. “I knew you were perfect.” He groans, pulling his hand back so he can whip your ass with the belt, “you need me. Not some pussy.” He hisses, striking your ass every other work in quick succession.

You cry out. arching your back at the pain, but fuck if your cunt doesn't clench at the sensation. "Oh shit." You pant, trying to catch your breath while Dave caresses your ass. You inhale deeply. ignoring the pained look on Johnny's face as he helplessly watches.

“You like it, don’t you?” Dave asks as he draws back for another slap of the belt against your ass. “Don’t lie.”

“I love it.” You confess, unable to lie to him. He’s tearing you apart and you are unraveling for him, telling him your deepest darkest secrets. You cry out when he hits you again with the belt, your skin is on fire and you pant, trying to catch your breath.

Dave groans, smirking as he flicks the belt against your ass again. “Knew you would love it.” He hisses, his cock twitching in his pants. “You’re fucking dirty, my little whore.”

You collapse forward onto your elbows, ass aching. And you struggle to breathe, knowing it’s true. You’ve always been his. “Yes, I- I- fuck. I’m your dirty little whore.” You whimper, closing your eyes to ignore the hurt look on Johnny’s face, concealed by the gag.

Dave chuckles and drops his hand, reaching out and caressing the welts that are on your ass. “Get on your knees.” He orders you rightly, “I want you to suck my cock. Show you me how much you regret him touching you.”

It’s getting impossible to deny him, the guilt pushed aside by arousal as you shift onto your knees and hiss at the sting when your thighs press against your ass. You look up at Dave as he fumbles to pull his cock out, gun still in one hand, and when he manages to get his hard length out, your eyes widen. Fuck, he’s huge. Your mouth falls open in shock and he grips his length, playfully swiping the head along your lips until you take him into your mouth.

Dave groans as you take him deep, rolling his hips forward. “Fuck.” He hisses, watching as your lips stretch around his cock. He loves it, your eyes starting to water slightly as he pushes himself deeper.

You choke but he doesn’t pull back, continuing to push his cock down your throat, and he grabs the back of your head to stop you pulling off of him. “Take it all.” He demands and you gag but inhale deeply through your nose, concentrating on taking all of him.

You swallow and struggle but you manage to press your nose against the curls above his cock. Making him groan happily as he holds your head there for a long moment before he pulls back. Wanting to fuck your throat, use you for his pleasure, although he’s not filling your mouth with his seed. No. He’s saving that for your pussy. Wanting to replace your loser boyfriend’s seed with his and watch it drip from your folds.

You choke on your breath when Dave pulls his cock back, barely able to catch it as he pushes deep down your throat again. “Fuck. Oh fuck.” He hisses and you are dripping onto the floor as you watch him with watery eyes, loving the way he clenches his jaw. The gun is still in his hand. He looks deadly and that turns you on more than anything Johnny has ever done.

He can tell this excites you. The way that you lean into his thrusts into your mouth and the way that your thighs spread tell him how much you love this. In a few minutes he will be able to see your cunt drooling into the floor, your arousal leaking out of you and dripping down like the little slut that he knows you are.

You whimper around him, saliva dripping down your chin, and when he hisses your name, you slide your hands up to caress his thighs. He allows it, watching you with those dark eyes you’ve dreamed of far too often and you whine when he pulls his cock from your mouth after several moments.

“Get up and bend over the couch.” Dave growls, slapping his cock on the side of your cheek. “Want to cum inside you. after you’ve screamed my name so much that your throat is raw.”

You scramble onto the sofa, desperate to feel him inside of you, to get fucked the way you desperately want to get fucked. You look over at Johnny who has tears in his eyes and you mouth “I’m sorry.” It’s useless but you still want him to know how sorry you are. You’re an eager whore for Dave but he didn’t deserve to get caught in the mess.

Pushing his pants down, he kicks them off and kneels behind you. The barrel of the gun slides up your drenched slit and he chuckles when you stiffen. “I could fuck you with this gun. Click the safety off and shove the barrel in your cunt,” he coos, loving how you whimper. “But I’d rather feel you around me first.” He pulls the barrel back and presses it against your puckered hole. “Maybe next time.” He guides himself to your cunt with his other hand and only pulls the gun completely away when he snaps his hips forward and fills you up.

Your gasp echoes in the cabin, shocked at the abrupt way he fills you, stretching you out, and it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt. Equal parts painful and pleasurable. It’s all you’ve ever wanted. “Oh fuck.” You choke, unable to breath as he doesn’t give you a chance to adjust around him before he’s pulling out to set a harsh pace, pounding into you like it’s the last thing he will ever do.

Dave hisses at how tight you get, pressing his hand on your lower back when you arch it up. “Fuck, that’s it. God, you love this don’t you?” He chuckles and glances over at where Johnny is sobbing in the chair. “This is what you should have done. You should feel how fucking tight she gets every time I rock into her.” He smirks. “But you won’t, because you can’t fuck her like I can.” He slaps your ass and thrusts harder into you, the slapping of his hips against your ass filling the cabin.

You cry out, his words shouldn’t turn you on but they do. It’s true. Johnny has never fucked you like this. It’s animalistic and you’re fucking breathless, panting as he slams his hips against yours over and over again, gun still in hand as he runs the barrel along your back.

“That’s it, taking it like the little slut you are.” Dave growls, enjoying the way you clench down around him. “My slut. Your cunt needed a real cock inside it. A man who isn’t afraid to hurt you, wants to hurt you.” He groans when you squeal and concentrates on that angle as he plows into you.

“Fuck! Fuck!” You whine, squeezing your eyes shut as he pushes deep inside of you, making you fall forward onto your elbows as you can’t remain upright on your hands anymore. “Yes. You. Needed you.” You know it’s wrong but you’re lost in the haze of lust and you can’t see Johnny’s heartbroken look as you wantonly moan for Dave.

Dave growls, loving how you just admitted that in front of your pathetic boyfriend. “You look so good.” He pants out, “split open on my cock. Be a good girl and cum and then I’m really going to make you squeal.”

You can’t hold back, even if you tried, you cry out when he smacks your ass again and you cum, clamping down on his cock and soaking him. You bite your lip, trying to smother your moan because you know Johnny is still watching you.

Dave growls, pissed that you would try to muffle your moans, and he reaches back to grab your shoulder, pulling you back against his chest. “Don’t you fucking bite your lip.” He huffs. “Or I’ll shoot your boyfriend and the last thing he will ever see is you cumming on my cock,”

You hate that his words make you clamp down even more on his cock. He’s so commanding, it makes you soak him, and he grabs your jaw, forcing you to release your lip. “I’m sorry.” You gasp, to both Dave and Johnny. The fact that you are getting fucked by another man in front of your sweet boyfriend has your heart breaking but your body is aching for Dave.

Dave huffs. Sliding his gun hand down as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, the barrel nudging your clit and he smirks when you gasp and your body reacts. “No you aren’t. You love this. You wanted my cock for so long.” He tells you. “You don’t think I didn’t know you searched my history? Saw what I was into? What I imagined doing to you?”

You would be mortified that he knew you’d seen the videos but he’s making your fantasies come true right now and you can’t stop yourself from enjoying the way he fucks up into you, the cold barrel of the gun nudging your clit enough to make you moan again. “I- fuck - it was so filthy. The - the choking. The spanking. I- I want that so much.” You admit, knowing Johnny wasn’t capable of giving that to you.

“You’re gonna get it.” He promises, feeling your cunt start to relax and he pulls out of you to turn you on your back. Throwing your legs back up into his shoulders, Dave wastes no time slamming back into you to start pounding you into the couch like he imagined when he was watching Johnny fucking you, folding you over to make sure he can plunge deep.

“Shit. Oh shit.” You squeal, he’s so deep inside of you. You feel like he’s in your guts. “Fuck baby. Oh fuck.” You sob, sounding authentic, not faking it like you did with Johnny. “Oh my God.” You whine, cupping your tits as he fucks you like it’s his last day on earth.

“That’s it, fuck, you’re so slutty.” Dave hisses, loving the way your cunt just floods his cock with your juices, every time he thrusts into you more coats him. It’s dripping down his thighs and his balls. Reaching up, he slaps your cheek lightly, not enough to hurt you. “My whore.” He growls, grabbing your throat and squeezing like he had imagined so many times. He could never do this to Carol, she didn’t like anything but basic lovemaking, but you are different. You will give him what he needs.

You grip his forearm as he fucks into you, making you moan and writhe. He grips your neck a little tighter and it cuts off some of your air, making you choke but your cunt squeezes his cock. You love this. It’s filthy and everything you’ve ever wanted.

“You love this.” He coos mocking, grinning over at where your boyfriend has his eyes closed. “Open your fucking eyes.” He orders, pointing the gun back at Johnny and his pace falters slightly. “Watch her get fucked. Every second of my cock inside you, you watch. Knowing you can’t give her this.”

You gasp, hating that you’re so turned on by his authority, and you whimper when he hits something incredible inside of you. Johnny opens his eyes, the look in them is heartbroken and it kills you to know that it’s over between you. He’d never want you now and you don’t know if you would want him after experiencing Dave. “Shit. Shit. I’m gonna cum.” You squeal, feeling how close you are.

Gritting his teeth, your squeal just makes him rock into you harder. Wanting to see how hard you cum, Dave holds the gun up to your head and pulls the trigger.

Fuck, it’s wrong. It’s so wrong. But you cum when he pulls the trigger. The way your life flashes before your eyes as you wonder if he’s just killed you only to hear the click of the trigger and nothing else. It’s the sexiest thing that’s ever happened to you and you gush, soaking him with your cum as you sob his name.

Dave groans, feeling your cum soak him. Making him hiss, flexing his finger and dropping the gun as he lunges forward. Folding you over as he presses his lips to yours and buries his cock deep as he can get it, coating your walls in hot ropes of his seed.

You pant against his mouth, hands wrapping around his shoulders, and you pull him even closer, “Dave. Dave. Dave.” You whine into his mouth, his cock twitching inside of you and he pushes his cum out of you with each rock of his hips.

He practically grins against your lips in satisfaction. Feeling you pull him closer is his personal triumph, getting you to admit that you need what he gives you. Riding out his orgasm before he pulls back to see your body just sag into the couch as he admires his cum starting to well up in your abused pussy.

You open your eyes, looking up at Dave as he shifts off of you, leaning back to admire his cum after pulling out of your cunt. “That’s how you’re supposed to fuck her. That’s how she should look. Wrecked. Ruined.” Dave tells Johnny who is crying, blinking to stop himself from closing his eyes, fearful of Dave despite the gun being set aside.

Dave stands, starting to pull his clothes back on and picks up his gun. “You drove up here, so I’m going to take Johnny down to the bus station.” He tells you. “Safe to say he won’t be staying.”

You are too dazed to really think about it. You nod, knowing you will have to call Johnny and break up formally but you doubt he will ever talk to you again. "I'm sorry Johnny." You whisper, watching Dave untie him from the chair but not ungag your boyfriend who looks equal parts disgusted and scared. You know Dave will send him on his way and then you have no clue what will happen next. You can only hope that he fucks you again.

“Stay here.” Dave shoves Johnny towards the door but doesn’t give him a chance to stop and look at you. Opening the door and pushing him outside before locking it behind him. “Don’t worry.” Dave chuckles quietly as the other man starts to struggle against the rope around his hands. “I won’t leave her alone too long.”

You sigh, leaning back into the cushions of the sofa. The guilt is creeping up on you but the ache in your body pushes it aside. You’ve never been so satisfied and you’re eager for Dave to return, wondering what the next steps are. Part of you worries if he will kill you. You know he’s capable of it. Part of you wonders if he will simply leave you out here to make your way home.

Dave drives Johnny five miles away from the cabin, turning down an old dirt road that leads to an abandoned property. “You don’t have to worry.” Dave chuckles as he parks the car. “Everything will be fine.” He gets out and rounds the car, pulling an increasingly frantic Johnny out. “Shut up.” He hisses, pushing him up against the car and searching for his phone. He smirks when he pulls it out of his left pocket. “You are going to break up with her. Tell her that you never want to see her again.” He chuckles and puts the now loaded gun up to his temple and urges him away from the car. “Let me show you where I’m going to dump your body.” He taunts. “There’s a very nice, dry well. Perfect for you to rot in.”

Johnny cries, sobbing as Dave pushes him towards the well and he knows he has one chance to fight. He spins around, trying to knock the gun from Dave’s hand and he succeeds, deciding to run. He sprints, his hands still bound, and he can barely breathe with the gag in his mouth. “Fucker.” Dave hisses, scrambling to pick up the gun to run after the younger man. When he catches up, he aims and shoots him in the head, watching the body fall to the ground. “Had to make it messy, huh?” Dave huffs as he drags his body to the well. No one would find Johnny.

After he’s unlocked Johnny’s phone with the Face ID, he shoves the body into the well and smirks as he flips through your texts. Frowning slightly when he sees the exchange where he had been trying to convince you to leave your job with the girls, wanting you to move in with him. “Asshole.” He hisses, angrily typing out the breakup message to you, signaling the end of your relationship permanently. After he sends the message, he blocks your number and shuts the phone down, throwing it into the well, along with his body and hums to himself as he walks back to his car. Now he just needs to deal with you.

You stumble from the bathroom, having peed and cleaned up, when you hear your phone ding. Picking it up, you frown when you see the message from Johnny and open it. 

I’m sorry. I can’t do this. Knowing you’ve been his whore and let him fuck you shows what kind of person you are. You are disgusting and I never want to see you again. I hope he satisfies your slutty needs and he’s gonna break your heart. Good luck. 

The message makes you tear up, not able to refute his claims that Dave will break your heart. You know that. He’s probably on his way back now to do just that. You pull on your shirt and panties and sit on the sofa, typing a message back. 

I’m so sorry, Johnny. I do love you. He just gave me what I needed. Can we please talk? I don’t want to end things like this. You hit send and the message never says delivered. He’s blocked you. That makes you cry, mourning the safe, yet boring relationship you had with Johnny.

Pulling back up to the cabin, Dave is happy to see your car still there. Scoffing to himself because Johnny had been happy to let you whisk him away rather than him doing it to you. Knowing it’s slightly sexist, but he doesn’t give a shit. You need a man to take care of you, and Dave is going to be that man. “I’m back.” He announces, walking back into the main room and frowning when he sees you crying. “What’s wrong?”

You sniff, wiping your eyes when you see Dave. “Johnny broke up with me.” You gesture to your phone and Dave wants to roll his eyes. 

“And that’s a bad thing?” He asks and you bite your lip. 

“I- I don’t know. I feel guilty. I- I fucked you in front of my boyfriend and now he’s - oh God. Carol. And the girls. I- shit.” You start to panic, realizing how wrong this all is.

“Don’t.” Dave shakes his head, sitting down and reaching out for you. He doesn’t care about what you are feeling but he has to pretend like he does. “Fuck that loser, or- don’t fuck him. He couldn’t make you cum. And Carol isn’t going to find out about this.”

“How do you know? I - I can’t look her in the eyes when we go back home. She- she’s gonna know. I can feel it. Oh God. This was so wrong. You shouldn’t have done this. You were supposed to be at home and now I- fuck.” You cling to him, soaking his shirt with your tears.

“Hush.” Dave insists, rolling his eyes at your dramatics. Some people just can’t have a poker face and you are one of them. Not that it matters. His hand slides down into your panties and he pinches your clit. “Don’t think about it.” He growls. “Think about what I’m going to do to you right now. In my bed.”

You choke on your sob, his fingers rubbing your clit has you whimpering. The alternations between pinching and rubbing make you moan and your tears run down your cheeks but you stop sobbing. “Fuck. Dave.” You whine, turning your head to kiss his neck.

“That’s it, concentrate on how much you want it.” He groans, his flaccid cock twitching. He always has wanted to fuck someone after he’s killed and he’s going to get to, the gunpowder still fresh on his skin. “You need it. You need what I’m going to do to you.” He bites down roughly on your shoulder, sure that his teeth will leave impressions through your shirt.

"I do. I really do." You gasp, grinding down onto his fingers. He smells like smoke, something you can't put your finger on, but you love it. It smells like Dave. "More. Need more." You whine and cry out when he slaps your cunt with his palm. 

"Patience." He demands and you whimper, "please Dave."

Dave smirks, enjoying how eager you are for him. He pushes a finger deep inside your cunt and curls it up. “When I am here, you are to wear nothing.” He orders harshly, pumping his finger before adding another. “You will be ready to take my cock in whatever hole I want to fuck.”

“Yes. Yes. I’ll be ready. I’ll be ready. I’m yours. Have been yours. Just - I need more.” You beg, lost in the pleasure to really take note of his words. You reach out to squeeze his cock through his pants, wanting more of him.

Dave growls, rocking his hips up, “take your fucking shirt off before I cut it off.” He demands, wanting to bite and suck on your tits. Eager to leave his teeth marks on your skin. To make you feel him when he leaves tonight. He pushes his fingers deep and rough. “Now.”

You scramble to follow his order, pulling the shirt over your head to expose your tits to his hungry gaze. He surges down to bite down on your nipple, making you cry out in both pleasure and pain. His fingers curl deep inside of you and you’re so close. He unravels you impossibly fast until finally, you clamp down on his digits, his teeth buried in your breast.

Dave groans in delight, feeling his teeth break the skin and the coppery tang of your blood floods his taste buds. Not enough to really do damage but from the way you clench around him, you love it.

You pant as he slows his fingers, letting you enjoy your orgasm and your eyes are still closed when he tells you to look at him. “You’re mine now.” 

You nod, “I’m yours. I- I always have been.” You tell him truthfully.

“Good.” Dave pulls his fingers out of your cunt and shoves them into your mouth, nearly gagging you. “Now, your going to go into the bedroom and spread yourself on my bed, I need to get the toy you will have in your cunt while I fuck your ass.”

You shouldn’t shake with anticipation but you’ve never done anal before. None of your boyfriends were interested in the prep work and you wonder if Dave is the same. If he’s gonna just try to stick it in. You stand on shaky legs and make your way to the bed, kneeling on it and spreading your knees to display your cunt and puckered hole.

When he had come into the cabin, he had dropped a duffel bag near the door. All the supplies he needs inside, he unzips it, removing a toy, a bottle of lube and the handcuffs. The collar and chain are left in the bottom, along with the padlocks he had brought to secure the cabin. Taking them into the bedroom, he grunts in satisfaction when he sees you kneeling. “Has anyone every fucked your ass?”

You shake your head. “No. No one has.” You admit, hissing when he smacks your ass over the welts that are still sensitive from his rough treatment earlier. “You can. I want you to. Just - just be gentle.” You plead, knowing he won’t but maybe he will consider it.

He snorts, pulling your hands behind your back and slapping the cuffs on them. “Depends on how good you are for me.” He won’t be too rough, he wants you to anticipate him fucking you rather than trying to shy away. Leaning over and grinning, Dave spits on your puckered hold and reaches out to massage it into your skin.

"Shit." You hiss at the new sensation. No one has done this to you and you already fucking love it. "Fuck Dave." You pant when he pushes his finger a little deeper inside of you.  "I'll be good." You promise, arching your back and your abused cunt clenches around nothing.

“I know you will.” Dave coos, pulling his finger out and coating it with lube so he can push it back inside you. “You know what I’m capable of. What I could do to you.” He chuckles when your tight hole clenches around his digits. “You like that I’m a killer.”

You can’t deny it. It turns you on to know what he’s capable of. “Oh fuck baby. Yes. Yes I do.” You confess, “I love it. I want you to be the one to fuck my ass.” You tell him breathlessly and you gasp when he adds another finger to stretch you out.

The sounds are slick and you aren’t pulling away as he starts to pump and scissor two fingers inside your ass. Making him groan at the sight of your clenching cunt. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you are nice and filled up.” He grins, picking up the dildo he had formed from his own cock using one of those kits. “My cock will be the last one you have inside you. Even a toy.”

You hear him squirt lube onto the dildo and you gasp when you feel the silicone press against your cunt. You moan when he starts to push the toy inside of you. “Oh fuck!” You squeal, trying to relax around the girth and you realize that the toy is as thick as Dave.

He chuckles, admiring the way your lips stretch around the toy. “You look good like this, even better when my cock is in your ass.” He taunts.

You pant as he works the toy in and out of you, his fingers scissoring your ass open and you collapse forward, resting your cheek on the sheets, your fingers flexing in the handcuffs. “Please, baby. I need you inside of me.”

He chuckles again and pulls his fingers out of your ass. “You’re ready to be full, huh?” He slaps your ass, leaving the toy inside your cunt as he slathers his cock in lube. He wants it to be slick, for himself and for you taking his cock in your ass for the first time. 

“Yes.” You whimper, making him smirk as he slaps your ass and shuffles closer.

You pant as he presses the head of his cock against your puckered hole and you hold your breath as he starts to push inside of you. It hurts, but you can handle it. His hand caresses your back, “breathe.” He orders and you exhale shakily, inhaling deeply on the next breath. He’s so thick it stings but you want this. You try to relax so you can take as much of him as possible.

Unlike the first time he pushed inside your cunt, Dave takes his time. Works himself an inch at a time. Aware that this is new, plus you still have the toy filling up the other hole on the other side of the thin skin. He can feel the ridges in the silicone and he groans as he rocks into you. “Fuck- fuck you’re going to be so good for me? Taking this cock and a toy aren’t you? You’ll let me do anything I want to you.”

You nod, “yes. Whatever you want. I love - I love it.” You tell him, groaning when he starts to move inside of you. “Yes. Oh yes baby.” You pant when he starts to move faster and he’s gripping the toy, working that in and out too. It’s more than you’ve ever felt and you are already on the edge.

“Fuck, fuck you’re so-“ Dave groans, gritting his teeth and biting off his words when you spasm around him, close to cumming already. “Shiiiit.” He hisses, rocking his hips faster, slapping them against your ass as he works up to a frantic pace.

You squeal when he picks up the pace, pushing into you over and over again. “Yes. Yes! Keep - keep going. Keep going. I - fuck. You’re gonna make me - Dave. Oh Dave!” You clamp down on the toy, squeezing it inside of your walls and you squeeze Dave, shaking as you sob into the sheets at the intensity of your orgasm.

“God, you’re such a perfect little slut.” Dave groans, slowing down and rocking his hips a lot slower than before. He wants you exhausted by the time he is done with you. He needs you to sleep while he closes up the house. “That’s good baby, fuck, you’re so tight.” He praises, caressing your spine. “Want you to cum again. You’re gonna come for me again.”

You recover against the bedsheets, trying to catch your breath while Dave caresses your spine, until he starts to fuck you again. This time, he’s slower. Not as rushed as he rocks his hips, and you try to grind back onto him, arms aching from the handcuffs but you daren’t ask him to remove them.

Looking down, he watches his cock move inside you. Aware that he is recording this very moment on the camera system to keep and watch back whenever he wants. “Gonna fuck you every week.” He groans, twitching inside you. “First you’re going to suck my cock. Kneel down and take my cock down your throat while I finish up work.” He tells you, like he’s explaining how things will go. Because he is. “Then I’m going to fuck your cunt full.”

"Oh God." His words make you burn and you want that, you want him. Every fucking day. "Yes. Yes. My pussy is yours, Dave. I belong to you." You promise, tears stinging in your eyes as your wildest dreams come true. "I need you. I need this."

“You are mine.” He groans, rocking his hips faster and he reaches around you to slap your clit and rub it harshly. “Forever. You’re mine. Mine. You’re going to give me more kids.”

You wonder if he’s just babbling or if he means it. It’s hard to not give into the fantasy. You want him to knock you up, claim you in every way. But you know that if you were lucid, you would be terrified to get knocked up by a married man. “Yes. Yes. Gonna have your babies. As many as you want.”

He snarls, closing his eyes and gripping your hips harshly as he starts fucking into you harshly again. Rubbing your clit in a desperate effort for you to cum again. His control slipping at your acceptance of what he has planned for you. “Yes, fuck, yes, cum for me.”

You can't deny him, clamping down on the toy that is still inside of you, while his cock pushes deep and his fingers play with your clit. "Oh my - fuck!" You scream, almost blacking out from the pleasure. This is what you've wanted, what you've craved since you started working for the Yorks. Now you've got it, your entire body is on fire.

He feels your body give out, collapsing against the bed and flattening out so he just follows you. Still fucking into your ass like a man possessed and his hand trapped between you and the bed, rubbing your clit. He growls out your name, burying his cock deep and filling you with another load of his cum, pulsing deep inside the other hole he had claimed.

You can't open your eyes, you can't move. Knowing he's cum inside of you again, and the way he growled your name, it's more than you can bear. "Fuck. I- I love you. I love you. I love you." You sob, knowing he won't reply but you want him to know.

He doesn’t love you. He can’t. Not when he has the girls and Carol and all the shit that he does. But he does want you. You’re his. He rides out his high and starts to slowly ease out of you once he’s done.

You sigh when he pulls out of you, slowly removing the toy too and you feel so empty. His cum drips out of you, and you want him to take the handcuffs off and cuddle you but he won’t. He will probably uncuff you and then send you on your way. “Thank you.” You murmur, knowing how good this was and you know you’ll need him again soon.

Dave caresses your ass for a moment before he moves towards the bathroom. He needs to clean you up. “I’ll uncuff you in just a second.” He promises, grabbing the toy and bringing it with him.

You watch him come back in with the rag, hissing as he cleans up your abused holes, and you sigh when he unlocks the  cuffs, rubbing your wrists. “Did you enjoy it?” You ask him softly, wanting him to have loved being inside of you.

“Obsessed.” Dave answers with an honest smirk. He knows that you are going to want reassurance and intimacy so he motions for you to get under the covers and pulls them back to get into the bed with you. “I’ll be thinking about it when I’m not inside you.”

Your eyes widen as he slides into bed beside you and you are surprised when he wraps his arms around you. You smile, shifting back to snuggle into him, breathing him in. You don’t know what tomorrow will bring but you have him tonight. He strokes along your stomach and you are lulled into sleep, exhausted from the sex and the events of the day.

He waits until you are softly snoring, slipping out of the bed and picking up your phone to type out another text message, one that would be sent to his phone. Smirking to himself as he hits send, removes your SIM card and erases it. He’s had your password for a long time and now he’s used it. Redressing and stepping out with the bag and padlocks to start shuttering the cabin windows. With you inside.

****

You blink as you wake up, confused by your surroundings until you remember that Dave had fallen asleep beside you. You sigh and turn over in bed, frowning when you feel the cold sheets beside you. He’s gone. You knew he would leave but a small part of you hoped he would stay. You get out of the bed, shrugging on your robe that you’d brought with you, and you frown when you see the cabin is in darkness. You walk over to the window to open the curtains and you gasp when you find it shut up. Starting to panic, you go through each window, finding each one boarded up, and you rush over to the front door. Screaming when you find it locked, you tug on the handle with no use. You’re locked in. “Dave! Dave! Dave!” You shout, praying he’s still here and this is some kind of joke. You rush around the cabin but he’s nowhere to be found. “Oh my God.” You panic, chest heaving as you come to realize he’s locked you in.

Watching the screen, Dave sees you panicking. He picks up his cell phone to dial the cabin. He’s set it up so that only he can dial in, there are no outgoing calls to be made. He watches you jump when the phone peels and you rush over to it. “Dave! What- what is going on? What - why are you doing this?” You cry, making him exhale slowly, keeping his patience for now. 

“You said you’re mine.” He reminds you quietly. “You didn’t want Carol to find out. So this is perfect. You will stay here, I’ll be up to see you every couple of days and bring you supplies.” He rasps into the phone. “I can see you on the cameras and I’ll call you once a day. Tell me if you need me to bring you anything. And when I come, you can have me just like you said you wanted.”

Your hands shake as you look around the cabin, trying to spot the cameras and you think you see one in the corner. “Please don’t do this. I- I wouldn’t tell Carol. It would be our little secret. I don’t - please Dave. I can be a good girl. I won’t tell anyone. Just - just come and let me out. Please. I - fucking let me out of here!” You shout down the phone, losing your cool as you start to have a panic attack at the fact that he’s locked you in the cabin.

“Ah ah ah.” Dave tuts disappointedly. “A good girl wouldn’t yell about her situation.” He tells you. “I’ll be back in three days, baby. Don’t worry. I’ll bring those cookies you love. And you don’t have to worry about Johnny.” He decides to tell you the truth. “I killed him. And you texted me, telling me that you were quitting to move in with him. So Carol won’t wonder where you’ve gone.”

You sob, hearing the truth that Dave killed Johnny. He didn’t deserve to die. He was a good man. You nearly drop the phone, covering your mouth to smother your sob but know Dave can see it on the camera. “Don’t be sad. Now we can be together. When I want. I’m gonna have you forever. You’re mine now.” Dave declares and hangs up the phone. 

You frantically try to call back on the phone but the line is dead. You press the numbers over and over with no response so you finally slump down onto the floor. Dave killed Johnny and now you are his prisoner. Your selfishness has ruined everything, Dave has destroyed everything. You cry for Johnny, for your future, and you know you won’t make it out of here alive. Dave won’t let you go now. You’ll be his. Forever.

[gurugirl]

3. The Unicorn | nanny!yn

Unicorn: An individual who is willing to join an existing romantic relationship. Usually a bisexual female.

Summary: The aftermath of that fateful night has lots of consequences. Not all of them are bad.

A/N: This is the final part! Based on this and this.

Word Count: 11.7k

Warning: 18+ only, smut, angst, mentions of divorce

The Unicorn Masterlist

You had to admit. The ensuite bathroom was really nice. But you couldn’t imagine enjoying the soaker tub with jets and soft fluffy towels as you stared at yourself in the mirror. You took off your little pearl choker as tears continued to fall down your cheeks and you removed your sweater and skirt. It all felt so pointless. You had wasted so much time fretting over your outfit and matching it to your pearl choker and your pretty panties all for everything to just blow up completely. Now your favorite pink pearl choker was tainted and you’d probably never want to wear it again.

You should have said no to the proposition. You knew you should have listened to your gut. It was going to blow up and someone was going to get hurt.

Your night shorts and matching top were soft on your skin but you hated it because you’d also chosen this set with the thought that both Kit and Harry might see it. But you’d be sure they never did.

Setting your alarm for 5:00 am you climbed into the luxurious bed and rolled to your side hoping you could get some sleep so you could turn your brain off as you replayed every moment in your head over and over again.

.           .           .          

“I don’t want to talk about it right now, Harry,” Kit insisted.

“She can’t hear us in here, love. Come on. Let’s work something out. Things didn’t go like we thought… right? We don’t need to do it again.”

“I just… I need some space, H. That was a lot. I guess I didn’t expect it to feel that way. I can’t talk about it right now, though. I need to sleep on it. Away from you. I know I’ll feel better in the morning.”

Harry nodded and grabbed his wife’s hand, “I love you, Kitty. You know that right? I love you so much. You are the most important person to me in the world.”

Kit attempted a weak smile as she pulled her hand away and tucked herself into the blankets, “Can you turn the light off when you leave the room?”

.           .           .

Harry had been unable to sleep at all. The couch wasn’t a great spot to sleep but more than that, he was feeling guilty and trying to figure out how to fix the problem. He didn’t want you to feel bad, you hadn’t done anything wrong. But he did need to support his wife first and foremost. He’d need to insist she apologize and put it behind her but he didn’t want his wife to feel like he was taking your side either. Even though, in a way, he kind of was. You were the innocent party in all this. He’d gotten carried away. You both just clicked. The chemistry between you was impenetrable. So much so that he nearly forgot about his wife being there and said some things he didn’t really mean.

When he heard light footfalls coming down the stairs and then saw the outline of your frame as you rushed toward the door he shot up from the couch and hurried toward you, “Y/n?”

You closed your eyes and stopped in your tracks. You hoped he was asleep and that you could leave without him knowing.

He put his hands on your shoulders as he stood behind you and spoke quietly, “Are you okay to drive?” He knew he wasn’t going to be able to talk you into staying. Though in his mind, the best-case scenario was that the three of you could sit and talk and move on from the disaster of what had happened the night before. Maybe over coffee and waffles. He knew that was unlikely but he had hoped.

“I’m fine now. I just want to get out of here. I feel awful,” you turned yourself to look up at him in the dark.

“You don’t need to feel bad, honey. You didn’t do anything wrong. I need you to understand that.”

“I just need to go. You’ve been so nice to me. Thank you, Harry. For everything. Tell Kit how awful I feel and that I’m so sorry and never meant to hurt her.”

Harry frowned, “Don’t worry. Kit will feel better when she wakes up. I’ll talk to her. But you don’t owe anyone an apology.”

He put his arms around you and held you against his chest in a sweet hug. You could feel the thud of his heart under his pecs and inhaled his scent. You’d miss him. You’d miss Kit too. You’d especially miss William and Warner.

.           .           .

When you didn’t show up on Monday morning at the Styles’ house both Kit and Harry knew what was going on.

Kit had planned on apologizing to you for her behavior in person. She’d even planned to go to work a bit late that morning so all three of you could try and work it out. She was still feeling a bit betrayed by Harry and having a hard time unseeing and hearing what she had, but she knew her conduct had been out of line. She was acting on pure emotion and the wine exasperated her reaction. But that was no excuse.

“I can work from home today,” Harry said.

Kit shook her head, “I feel awful. I hurt her feelings. I was such a bitch to her and she didn’t deserve it. Maybe I should text her. Or go to her apartment and apologize to her face-to-face? What do you think? The least I can do is apologize for how I treated her.”

Harry pursed his lips, “Let me text her. See if she’ll come over later when you get home. I’ll tell her we’d like to talk and that you want to apologize.”

Sighing, Kit closed her eyes, “Don’t text her. I will. This is something I need to fix.”

He decided he’d let his wife figure out how she needed to approach the issue but he was worried it was too late. He was worried he’d never see you again and that would be it. You were totally justified in ghosting them both. Plus the semester would be starting up again for you in a couple of weeks and the boys would be back in school during the day so it felt futile to beg for you to come back.

And that’s exactly what you thought too. You were about to head into the new fall semester to start on your master’s degree and the boys were going back to school. You had hoped you’d still be able to watch the twins when Harry and Kit wanted a weekend away or a night off for a few extra bucks during the school year but there was absolutely no way you’d be able to face either Kit or Harry again.

You were sure Kit hated you with every fiber of her being. Which kind of made you angry the more you sat with what had happened. As sad as you were and as bad as you felt, you knew Harry was right. Nothing that happened was actually your fault.

Distracting yourself from what had happened Saturday night had been difficult because it was all so fresh. You knew with some time you’d get over it and move on but you were sure there would be some damage there. Netflix, long walks, lots of sleep, and pints of ice cream seemed to help a little.

But still, the moment that you couldn’t erase from your memory was when you were on their bed as Harry had just finished himself on your back and Kit yelled at him to make you leave all while you were still naked and floaty. Humiliating. But more than that, you started to realize, that what Kit did was uncalled for and mean. She had been mean to you and that made you angry.

So you were surprised when you saw a text from her on Monday afternoon. With an apology.

I hope you’re doing okay. I just wanted to reach out and tell you how sorry I am for how I acted Saturday night. I had hoped to talk to you this morning about it so I could do this in person, and I would still like to apologize to you in person if you’d let me. I understand if you’re not comfortable with it but if you are, I’ll be at Davanti’s on Fresno Street at 3:30 pm. I’ll be alone and plan to stay for an hour.

It was 2 pm. You needed to decide if you wanted to hear her out or just move on. Could you look at her again? Would you simply break down and cry the moment you saw her? Maybe it would be better if you requested Harry to be there? Or perhaps you should just ignore her and be done with it.

But you figured opting for closure would be better in the end. For you and probably for Kit as well.

I’ll be there.

You found a spot to park on the street a few blocks away so you could get some fresh air and stretch your legs before going inside. And also just in case you suddenly decided you didn’t want to go through with it, you could turn around and leave without having Kit seeing you.

But you didn’t change your mind and when you walked into the restaurant you saw Kit sitting at a booth looking down at her phone with a glass of wine in front of her.

You slid in across from her and she startled slightly before placing her phone face down, “Y/n! You came. Thank you.” She smiled. She looked hopeful and sweet.

Nodding you smiled back, “Of course.”

Kit looked at your hands and then out into the restaurant before back to you, “Would you like anything to drink or eat? It’s on me if you want–“

“No. That’s fine. I’ll just have a water when the server comes by. Not really hungry.”

She sat for a moment and blinked her eyes as she looked at you softly, “I am so sorry, Y/n. I know me just saying that can’t erase what I did. I wasn’t prepared to see him like that with anyone and I took it out on you. I’ll never forgive myself for the way I acted.”

You nodded and looked down at the table. You figured she would eventually forgive herself. Because that’s why she was there wanting to apologize to you in person. She wanted to feel better about what had happened and this was her way of doing that. So, while she would forgive herself eventually, despite saying she wouldn’t, you would never forget what happened to you that night. How she treated you, demeaned you. How it made you feel disgusted with yourself and Harry and her all at once. The horror you felt when the worst possible outcome happened.

“Can you ever forgive me?” She finally said which made you look up at her.

“I don’t think I’ll ever forget it. I’m not really sure how I even feel right now about it. I still need time to negotiate all of this in my head first.”

Kit spread her fingers out on the table and looked down at her hand, “I understand that. I don’t deserve to be forgiven,” she sighed and looked back at you, “I wanted to try something new with Harry. I’ve been so… just trying to figure out how to make myself feel that thing I used to feel for him, ya know?” She laughed and shook her head, “He’s just so… male. I mean he’s sweet and gentle and attractive but in bed, he wants something I can’t give him, and vice versa. And now that the twins are older we get more privacy and can get back into being a little more explorative, and it’s made me really miss how things were when I was single and dating women. I know that sounds awful,” she bit the inside of her cheek, “But I’ve just been reaching for something that I’m never going to be able to have with Harry alone. But turns out,” she laughed, “funnily enough, that I don’t like him with anyone else or feeling that passion with someone else that I wanted to feel. I wanted to feel that with you. But that’s selfish of me. I’m all messed up right now,” she stitched her brows together and you could see how glassy her eyes were, “I’m sorry to dump that on you. That’s not fair to you.”

You nodded. You didn’t know what to say in response. She shouldn’t have told you any of that. That was true. And now you just felt bad for Harry that his wife was seeking something to fill in where she thought he lacked. But all you could think was that he was everything anyone would ever want and yet Kit didn’t even see that somehow.

“I wanted to also give you this. From the boys.” She handed you a small homemade booklet with drawings on it from both William and Warren. You flipped through the pages of marker and pen, drawings and stories written to go with each drawing.

You looked up at Kit with appreciation, “Thank you for this. Tell them I love it. I’ll read it every day.” You hadn’t wanted to cry. Hadn’t wanted to show Kit how sensitive and soft you were. She’d already watched you cry that night and now here you were with tears in your eyes again that you simply could not hold back.

“If you ever want to stop by and say hi to them you could. Or even just send me or Harry a text to tell them hi. They love you so much, Y/n. You’re so good with them. And I wanted to…” she paused as she looked at you with a sudden weight that hadn’t been there just before, “If anything ever, um…” she wavered her gaze from your face to the area behind your head and back, “Never mind. Just know how much both Harry and I trust you and would love for you to still come around to see them if you ever wanted.”

.           .           .

When you returned to university things started to feel better. You still got caught with feelings of dread and were reminded of the way you felt that night. Of course, Kit had apologized and that was really all you could ask for after it had all been said and done. But it didn’t stop you from zoning out in the shower with thoughts of putting your pink pearl choker on before you went to their home that night. The giddiness you felt beforehand that was torn away from you so viciously only hours later. Now you couldn’t even look at the necklace. It was tucked away in its soft velvet bag in your panties drawer.

And you couldn’t stop thinking of Harry either. You missed him a lot too. But that feeling was mixed with a confusing heartsickness. It wasn’t that you were in love with him or anything. But you had crushed on him for a while and got to experience him in bed and that was. You couldn’t describe it because you tried not to think about it too much. The more you dwelled on the way he handled you and looked at you, the way he spoke to you… it gave you shivers and the unfortunate thing was that you’d never have the pleasure to know that again.

But again, you weren’t in love or anything close to it. It was just a sense of loss more than anything. 

After your first month back at school was down you were invited out to a local bar with some of your classmates and friends. Something fun for everyone to let loose a little. And god did you deserve to blow off a little steam.

You would have preferred a club with some awful dancing and too much liquor, to be honest, but darts in a dark bar with pitchers of beer and friends sounded quite nice too.

Jax bought the first pitcher as the rest of you claimed a nice table close to the dart boards at the back of the bar. It was a Friday night so the place got packed not long after you’d arrived.

You lost badly at the first game which meant the next pitcher of beer was on you. You frowned exaggeratedly at the rule that the loser buys the beer, but the truth was that you were feeling amazing. It was nice to not be sitting at home thinking about things that you shouldn’t be. The distraction was welcome. Being out with friends was refreshing.

Waving at the bartender you placed the empty pitcher down and dug into your front pocket for some cash to pay your turn. But a sudden feeling came over you. Like you were being watched. Or noticed at least. You casually looked to your right and then to your left but you saw no one looking at you. And no one looked familiar.

“Another pitcher of beer?” The bartender asked, bringing your attention back to him.

“Oh! Yes, please.”

With that strange feeling crawling its way up your spine you turned slowly and looked back at your friends and then across the bar to the table next to the window.

You jolted and felt your scalp prick and fingertips sizzle when you made eye contact with him. Harry. He was seated at a high-top table. He appeared to be alone.

He lifted a hand in greeting before bringing it back down to grasp his pint and looked out the window.

You hadn’t even become unfrozen from the shock of seeing him by the time the bartender was back with your pitcher. You settled up with him and looked to where Harry was seated. He didn’t look back at you. You wondered how long he’d been there. Had he seen you before you walked up to the bar?

“Hey, here’s the pitcher,” you placed it at the center of the table. “I’m gonna sit this game out. Someone I know is here and I’m gonna go say hi.”

After refilling your glass you hesitantly made your way to Harry. The least you could do was say hi. You had wondered about him all this time and had been tempted to text him a time or two but never felt it was right.

“Hi.” You stood next to his table, at a safe distance in case he wasn’t interested in talking.

He pulled his gaze away from whatever he was looking at outside to you, “Hi, Y/n.”

“I was, uh, surprised to see you. I don’t want to bother you. I just–“

“Sit if you want,” he gestured at the other stool. So obviously you did, placing your glass on the table and keeping your eyes on him.

Harry took a sip of his beer and his eyes were as deep and full of warmth as ever.

“How have you been?” You asked. You didn’t really know what to say to him. Which was silly when you thought about it.

“Things are complicated at home. But I’m okay. How are you?”

You shrugged as you took a drink from your glass, “Good. School’s been good. Here for a night without worrying about homework and quizzes. Just needed a night out with some friends.”

He nodded and leaned forward, resting his forearms onto the lacquered wooden tabletop, caging in his beer, “I’ve wanted to text you to see how you were doing but figured you wouldn’t want to hear from me again after what happened.”

You pinched your brows together and shook your head, “That’s not… I wish you would have. I wanted to text you a few times too. Just to check-in. I’ve missed you guys.”

“The boys really miss you. They talk about you still. I mean…” he rotated his arm so his palm was face up in a passive gesture, “it hasn’t been that long since– well, anyway.”

You smiled, “I miss them a lot. Hey, did Warner ever finish learning that song on the piano you were teaching him? He was doing so well learning the parts. I kind of hoped to hear him complete it but then…” you didn’t dare finish that sentence.

Harry grinned. It was the first genuine smile you’d seen from him since you approached him.

“Yeah. He’s pretty much got it down now. I’m really proud of him. He’s gonna be starting guitar and singing lessons soon. He wants to learn so he can start a band with some friends so I encouraged him to take lessons.”

“Takes after his father. Musically talented.” You gleamed at Harry.

Harry gulped the lump down his throat. He had really missed you around. But he’d been quite caught up in the aftermath of that night with Kit ever since. That night had changed everything.

“Ahh, I just dabble. Warner has real natural talent.”

You couldn’t be sure but you thought the apples of his cheeks were turning a shade pinker than they had been.

“I’ve heard you play the piano and sing. I’d say you have plenty of natural talent, Harry.”

You meant it too. He had a beautiful voice full of dark timbre and vibrant airy notes. And of course, he was so confident when he sang that if he had told you he made an album and played for audiences in sold-out venues you would have believed it.

“That’s nice to hear. Thank you, Y/n,” you watched a dimple slowly work its way deeper into his cheek as his smile widened. It was nice to see him smile.

You both sat quietly for a bit looking out the window at the dark street as cars drove by,  headlamps beaming over the dark asphalt. You wondered if you should press him more about how he really was. You could tell something was off. He wasn’t as happy as he normally was. And when he told you things were complicated at home you figured it had something to do with Kit.

“We’re getting divorced,” he said defeatedly as he stared out the window.

“What? Why?”

Harry took a deep breath and looked at you, “She wants more than I can give her. She needs to be with women, she said. And…” he gulped and looked back out the window, “… she said she couldn’t ever look at me the same after that night. Said I’d never be able to have that with her.”

You kept your brows pinched together as you listened to him. It broke your heart that things had fallen apart for them. That it had all been too much.

“But I thought you two were happy. There was never any indication before that something was wrong.”

He nodded, “I thought so too. But she couldn’t get passed it and she said she’d been thinking about it for a long time. Before we even thought of having you join,” he glanced at you before looking down at his glass, “She’s been needing something else for a while. I never knew. I thought it was enough. I knew she missed women and that kind of softness in bed but I had no idea that it affected her so much. To me, her confession was sudden. But supposedly she’s been keeping it in for a long time.”

Without even thinking you reached out and grabbed his hand, “I’m so sorry, Harry.”

Harry looked down at your small hand covering his and up to your eyes, “She said that when she apologized to you she felt free to finally be herself. I was blindsided. Then last week she told me she was going to go on a date with a woman she’s known for years. Ripped me right half. She was gone all night. But I mean, our marriage is over anyway.”

You gently smoothed your thumb over his knuckles and kept your eyes on his face.

“So I offered her a divorce and told her I can’t tolerate her dating someone if I’m not involved somehow. She understood that. She told me she hoped I would find someone,” he paused as he sighed to collect his words so they didn’t come out as a surprise to you, “…with whom I could have the kind of chemistry she saw that night between us.”

You didn’t know how to respond. Or if you should. You were well aware of the way you and Harry connected and how natural everything felt with him. But at the same time, you never thought it was much more than just good chemistry. You couldn’t allow yourself to think of it as more than that.

“Anyway, she’s at home with the boys and I needed to get out and breathe. Figured I’d have a beer or two and then go back home. Sleep in the guest room like I have been. We’re still trying to figure out how to tell the kids.”

You nodded softly, “That’s awful, Harry. I don’t know what to say except I’m so sorry.”

Harry breathed out a laugh through his nostrils and shook his head, “You don’t need to pity me. I’m sad but I’ll be okay. It’s better anyway, I think in the end. She wasn’t fulfilled and part of me knows I wasn’t either. We could have made it work but I don’t think she’d have been happy for much longer. It was only a matter of time I suppose.”

“Y/n! Next game’s about to start. You wanna join?” Arla suddenly interrupted.

You turned to look at her and back to Harry, “This is Harry, and Harry, this is my friend Arla. She and I have two classes together.”

Harry smiled at your friend and looked at you, “I’m just about to finish up. You go and enjoy your night off with your friends.”

You didn’t want to part ways with Harry yet. It felt like you needed to sit with him longer. So you turned to Arla, “I’m gonna pass. But you guys go ahead!”

“Are you sure?” She looked from you to Harry and back to you again.

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

When she walked off Harry grabbed your hand, “You don’t have to pity me I said. I’m okay, really. I know this has to be boring for you to sit here listening to me whine about my life. You should go.”

Shaking your head you frowned, “I didn’t want to go, Harry. Thought maybe if you’re leaving anyway I could walk you out. Hug you goodbye. I don’t know when I’ll ever see you again. Or if I see you again…”

Harry tilted his head and nodded, “Okay. Deal. I’ll settle up and be right back.”

You watched Harry make his way to the bar and get his credit card back from the bartender. He was achingly attractive, even doing absolutely nothing, he was the most attractive man you’d ever laid eyes on. And far and away the kindest.

When he returned you stood from the stool and he gestured for you to lead the way to the door. The night air was warm as you turned to look up at Harry.

“I’m parked just up the street,” he jutted his chin in the direction of his car, “It was really nice to see you–“

“I’ll walk with you to your car,” you rushed the words out. You weren’t ready for him to leave. You were certain you’d never see him again and that thought was scarier than insisting you walk him to his car. Maybe just being near him for a few extra moments would make you feel better.

Silently you both walked side by side down the sidewalk toward his car. And when you got to his spot he smiled down at you, “Did you drive here?”

You shook your head, “Shared an Uber with two of my friends.”

He nodded, “Well, Y/n…” he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around your shoulders and you pulled your arms around his middle and smushed your face against his chest. He squeezed you tight and you squeezed back.

You felt his breath at your temple, “God I’m gonna miss you.”

You tilted your head back to look up at him, “I’m gonna miss you too, Harry.”

The streetlamp that cast the smallest bit of light from across the street flickered off and then sputtered back on again as you kept your eyes locked with Harry’s. You’d miss his eyes and his cologne and how nice he was to you. It felt wrong to simply let him leave.

“Y/n…” Harry spoke softly as he brought a hand up to your face, his fingers slid behind your ear and his thumb caressed your cheekbone, “Can I have one more kiss? If it’s okay?”

Nodding your head you felt his hand pull your face closer to his. He pressed his nose against yours as you fluttered your eyes shut and then felt his lips gently move over yours.

And something inside of you felt like it’d been unlocked as you opened your mouth and let him slip his tongue inside, to which you pressed yours against his and heard him moan.

You gripped his shirt tight and felt him push your back into his car as he caged you in with his arms and his hips pressed against yours. It had all happened so fast but your head was spinning and you both were lost in each other with a hungry kiss and wet lips.

He moved his hand to your neck and wrapped his palm around the front of your throat, keeping his lips attached to yours before he parted with a soft gasp, “Want to hear you say it just one more time f’me, sweet girl. What do you call me?”

You closed your eyes and felt the tips of his fingers squeezing gently at the side of your neck. You knew exactly what he was asking.

“Daddy,” you breathed before you felt his warm lips slot between yours again. He moaned deeply and you clung to his back in hopes of him staying. You didn’t want this to be it.

When you shifted your hips he lowered a hand to your thigh and pulled it upward, tucking himself in closer.

It turned out, that one more kiss wasn’t just any old kiss. Wasn’t just something you could pull away from once his lips smeared against yours, once his tongue lapped against your tongue. You held him tight through his shirt and he kept your thigh hitched over his hip and his hand at your neck as his mouth moved with yours under the flickering streetlamp.

When he pulled back and looked down at you, you tightened your fingers around his shirt, “Do you want to come over? To my place?” You couldn’t let the moment getaway. Couldn’t let Harry just leave like that. You also couldn’t believe you’d asked him over. But it was that or watch him drive away and never see him again.

Harry pulled his hand off your neck and softly tucked his fingers to the back of your head, “Really?”

You nodded and raised your brows, suddenly feeling the heat of embarrassment, “If you want. I mean you don’t–“

Your words were swallowed by Harry’s mouth over yours again. Soft lips and wet tongue making you ache and filling you with just enough gall to ask for what you’d wanted. And that was to have him in your apartment. Alone. You just wanted a little bit more. Before it was all over and forgotten and in the past. Before the moment was just something you’d look back on in the future with a tinge of sadness but with a smile on your face.

Harry opened his passenger side door for you to get inside and you texted Jax quickly explaining your sudden absence with an apology. You could explain to your friends later.

You felt Harry scoop your hand into his as he started his car and pulled out into the street. The song on the radio had just come to an end and a commercial began to play, “You’ll have to remind me of your address,” Harry glanced at you before looking back at the street.

“Oh! Yeah! Of course. Um… Just take this street to Caldwell and take a right and then we’ll go to the bridge and merge onto the highway but you’ll only be on for one exit and then the first right off the access road. Then it’s like two miles and the apartments are on the left.”

Harry laughed, “Maybe you can tell me as we approach where I need to turn. I’m a little wound up right now. Might not remember all that,” he grinned.

You were feeling your nerves begin to bubble with each mile closer to your apartment. But Harry was trying to keep you calm, you could tell.

“So, you told me once you don’t have roommates. Is that still the case?”

You nodded and looked at his handsome side profile, “Yeah. No roommates. It’s only a one bedroom. My uncle is the apartment manager and so I get rent super cheap otherwise I wouldn’t be able to have a place on my own.” “That’s nice. Looking forward to seeing it.”

Biting your lip you looked out the window and felt a pinch of anxiety. You knew what was probably about to happen and you’d welcome it! But then after that what? Would he stick around? Would you see him again? Would Kit be mad?

“What are your plans for tomorrow, Y/n?”

You released your bottom lip from your teeth, “I have a paper due on Monday so I planned on getting my sources and starting the outline. I have it mostly written but now I need to back up what I’m saying and that means I’ll probably wind up needing to rewrite some portions. But that’s my plan for tomorrow and Sunday. Get that finished up. What about you?” You looked back at him as you asked.

“Tomorrow afternoon I’m taking the boys to that Science and Play place. Not sure if you ever heard of it?” He peeked at you quickly.

“I have! I’ve actually been there,” you laughed and Harry softly rubbed his thumb along yours.

“William loves it. He’s been begging to go back. And they have a restaurant there so we’ll make a whole afternoon of it. Let the boys explore. Kit’s going out tomorrow and I don’t want the boys to see her getting all dressed up so I’m going to stay out of the house with them as long as possible.”

You nodded, “That makes sense. I’m sorry, Harry.”

He shook his head, “Don’t be. I’m suddenly not feeling so down about it all right now,” he squeezed your hand as you directed him onto the highway.

You smiled to yourself at his comment and understood what he meant exactly.

After Harry parked in the guest parking spot, you led him to your apartment up a flight of metal stairs to the second floor. You were normally very tidy and neat but you’d been a bit out of sorts since that fateful night and plus getting back into the swing of the new semester meant you had a few things strewn about which all came into view once you turned on the light.

“Sorry about the mess,” you gestured at your couch and the small chair next to it with your clothes draped over the arms.

But Harry didn’t seem to care as he pulled you into his arms and cupped your face, bringing his lips down to yours. You kissed him back with as much heat as he was putting into the kiss. You grasped onto the lats of his back as he moved you with him slowly until he pulled you into his lap on the couch and your fervor only increased.

You ran your fingers into his hair as he kissed his way down your jaw and then to your neck, pecking gently along the front of your throat and back up to your lips, “Loved when you wore that little pearl choker.”

He drew his hands along the outside of your jeans-clad thighs and you pulled away to look at his beautiful face, “I still have it.”

“Mmm… It goes with your innocent act so perfectly,” he grinned, “But I know you’re not innocent, baby. Far from it.”

You could feel his breath against your lips as he spoke and you felt that recognizable hardness under his pants.

“Why don’t you go put that pretty thing on your neck for Daddy and take off everything else?”

You were quick to push yourself off his lap and go into your bedroom. You smiled as you pulled the choker from its velvet bag and happily put it back onto your neck. You thought you’d never want it on again, but if Harry wanted it on, you would absolutely wear it.

You pulled your shirt off and began to unbutton your pants before pushing them down your legs. You hadn’t done much upkeep on yourself other than just shaving around your bikini line to keep it neat, but you knew better than to start rethinking everything now. If you had a bit of a bush so be it. You were mostly certain Harry wouldn’t mind.

When you unhooked your bra Harry was standing in your doorway watching you. His hands slowly undoing the buttons on his shirt as he watched you peel your panties down your legs.

His shirt hung open as he stepped in front of you and cupped your face. His eyes wandered over your breasts and up to your choker before setting them back on your face, “Do you know how hard you make me, Y/n? This little thing on your neck,” he lowered his thumb to the pearls and pressed on it, “…these sexy lips,” he dipped in and kissed you as he lowered both hands to your tits, “…and these gorgeous breasts.”

You smoothed your hands over his warm chest as his mouth covered yours with lazy, sloppy kisses.

“Want you to bend over the bed. Show me that pretty ass. I think you need a little spanking for making Daddy wait a month and a half to see you again.”

You moaned and then swallowed as you turned around and draped your upper half over your unmade bed, baring your full ass to him.

You felt his hands cupping your bottom and smoothing up and down to your thighs as he cooed at you, “God damn, baby. Look at you. So fucking sweet and naughty for me,” the first strike against your bottom came unexpectedly and immediately after he spoke.

He brought his other palm down on your other side and you yelped and turned to look at him over your shoulder.

He lifted his gaze from your bum to your eyes and smirked at you as he smacked you again. You dropped your mouth open and groaned when he did it again and again until you squeezed your eyes closed and stuffed your face into the mattress as he left stinging handprints on your backside.

When you felt him move away you lifted and turned to look at him behind you as he removed his clothes. He watched you with dark eyes, his sight moving from your bum to your face, “On your knees. Face me,” he motioned for you to move.

You brought yourself to your knees and looked up at him, your eyes big and round and sweet. He licked his lips and ran his knuckles over your temple, “Gotta burn this image into my brain. The sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He stroked himself slowly, his cock was already fully thickened and mouthwatering. You looked from his big dick up to his face as he dragged a soft thumb over your lips. He pressed his thumb into your mouth and you opened up for him.

“Keep your mouth open like this,” he pressed down on your tongue, making your jaw widen, “There we go. Need space for me in there. You want Daddy’s cock inside your mouth?”

You nodded and gurgled a yes which made him grin proudly, “I know you do. You like having your face fucked, don’t you? Little naughty girl desperate to choke and make Daddy happy.”

“Yes. Please…” you panted and opened your mouth wider for him.

Harry smeared his cock over your lips. His warm tip dragged against the soft skin of your mouth as you poked your tongue out to dab at his slit.

“Go on then. Suck.” He prodded himself forward a bit and you wrapped your lips around his smooth tip and grasped at this base. Swirling your tongue around the skin under his crown you pushed yourself down on him and pulled back, sucking in and dragging your tongue along the way before edging back down again, trying to get him as deep as possible.

You’d given head before. You had never much enjoyed it. Felt it was more a means to an end sometimes. But with Harry standing over you and cradling the back of your head, his eyes on your mouth as you took him on your tongue you realized you loved giving head. Maybe it was just Harry, though. Maybe you only loved sucking his cock because it was attached to him and you wanted to please him in every way you possibly could.

“Fuck,” Harry moaned breathily as you looked up at him with your puffy lips parted around him, moving up and down, sucking and licking, hollowing your cheeks every time you pulled back to his tip just before pushing him further into your mouth.

When you put a hand on his ball sac and softly rolled it in your palm Harry threw his head back and panted breathily, “Oh my god, baby.”

You continued your work as your eyes became blurred with tears and your chin wet with drool. You stuffed yourself down over him until his tip was poked into your throat and you gagged around him. When you repeated that move, causing you to swallow around him and gag lightly, still gently massaging his balls he pulled you off and lifted you to stand up.

“Enough for now. Think you’ve earned a reward for that.” He gently walked you backward to your bed and then gestured for you to get on just as he climbed on and pulled you over his lap again. Harry laid down, bringing you with him, and kissed you. You could feel his solid, damp cock against your pussy as you kissed him and he groped your bottom, moving you up and down against him slowly, your pussylips pushed apart and dragged over his cock.

Suddenly he pushed at you, making you sit upright, your hands on his pecs as he cupped your tits in his hands, “I want you to ride my face. Get yourself off.”

You laughed and looked at him, “How should I…”

But you let out a small squeak as he pulled at you and dragged you up his chest and over his face, gripping onto your hips and making you settle your pussy over his lips. He began kissing and licking right away, his eyes on you.

“Ohhh…” you placed your hands on the top of the headboard as you looked down and watched Harry under you. It felt so good having him naked in your bed. Having his eyes on you. Having his hands on your ass. His lips on your pussy.

You slowly tilted your hips forward and felt the sparkle of your clit being pressed into his mouth. Harry held you down tight and lapped at you, concentrating on your clit as he sucked on it.

Harry’s fingers dug into your soft bum and you felt as he moved one hand, reaching further back and dipping a finger into your pussy before smearing your arousal up and over your anus. You gasped as you stared down at his eyes. He softly circled the spot as he continued working on your clit with his mouth.

You’d never had anything done to your bottom before, but if Harry wanted to, you’d let him. You were pretty much all yes and please when it came to him anyway. You’d happily let him do what he wanted.

But he never pressed in. He only pushed at your hole and circled over the outside with a wet finger and it had you reeling.

“Daddy, oh my god!”

Harry moved his hand away and put it back on your hips so he could pull you down and move you back and forth over his face. You felt like you were in such a vulnerable position, naked, sitting on his mouth the way you were. There was part of you that worried you were crushing him but he only pulled you against his mouth harder, his brows furrowing as he tried to draw an orgasm out of you.

He moaned against your clit and drew it into his mouth, letting his tongue flick against it. The little wet noises coming from his mouth against you sounded dirty with the backdrop of your loud moaning.

Sometimes you were able to force an orgasm from yourself if you held your vibrator against your clit. Even if you weren’t worked up at all. Just for a quick release.

But you were definitely worked up with Harry. Wet and puffy and the way he was mouthing and pulling at your clit with his lips you couldn’t stop your climax even if you wanted to. It dripped from your cunt all over his mouth as you loudly cried out. Your thighs quivered around his head as you leaned forward and felt wave after wave of your release.

Harry kept his hands tight on you, holding you close so he could make sure you were feeling everything he gave you.

“Fffffuuuu!” You were feeling overwhelmed as he continued sucking you in and holding you down over him. You whined and tried lifting your hips up but he swatted at your ass before gripping your thigh and doubling down on your clit.

“Oooh ssssshhit! Ffuck!” You were trembling uncontrollably as you white-knuckled the headboard and looked down at the scene of the crime. Harry’s head between your thighs with his eyes on yours and his wet nose was lewd.

But then something snapped and the overwhelming feeling started to melt into yet another orgasm that was drawn from you without warning. You cried and whimpered as Harry let go of your thighs and put his hands at your waist to keep you steady. Your whole body trembled as you tried to hold onto the headboard but you were feeling out of your mind and blurry.

When he moved you to your back you were still coming down from the back-to-back orgasms and your brain was trying to fight its way back to the surface of clarity and awareness. Harry lay next to you and kissed your neck, his fingers trailing up your tummy and over your breasts and to your little choker, “You okay, Y/n?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

Your chest was still rising and falling heavily as you nodded, “I’m so good.”

You felt Harry’s thigh draped over the tops of yours as he trailed soft kisses up your neck and to your jaw, “You are so good.”

Reaching across your body you placed your fingers in Harry’s hair, “I want you to come, Daddy.”

Harry laughed out a puff of breath against your jaw and lifted his face to look at you, “Oh you do? You’re so sweet, honey,” his voice came out raspy and deep as he kneed his way between your legs, pushing your thighs apart and fitting himself comfortably over you, pulling at your knees to bend them up so your feet were flat.

He smiled down at you, breaking the lusty moment, “You don’t happen to have a condom do you?”

You thought for a moment. You were sure you didn’t, “I don’t really think I do. But,” you gulped and flexed your fingers nervously into the skin of his back, “I’m on birth control, so…”

Harry pursed his lips in pause as he kept his eyes on yours, “Okay,” he dipped down to kiss you, “You sure?”

“Yes. I’m sure. Want to feel you,” you nodded.

You were still so wet between your legs. You could feel Harry’s length easily slide against your pussy as he shifted himself down and pressed the top of his thighs into the back of yours, pushing your legs up slightly.

He placed his forearms down on the bed, caging you in, and pressed his mouth to yours softly. You felt him nudging at your opening so you lifted your hips, pushing against him as his tongue licked at the crease of your lips. The moment you felt his bulbous tip press through the tight muscle of your opening you gasped, dropping your mouth wide open. The feel of him entering you slowly with the weight of his hips against yours had you melting.

“That feels so good, doesn’t it baby?”

You whimpered with a nod, “Yes, Daddy…”

“Fuck I can hear how wet you are for me,” he pulled back and then pressed in. “Gonna make me come so hard, sweet girl.”

The deeper he went in the more you felt your body floating away. There was no question that Harry had a big dick. And you knew he was aware of this as well because he was gentle with you as he inched his way in and pulled back slowly.

When he’d finally poked in as deep as possible and his balls were tucked into your ass he sloppily kissed you as he began to fuck into you with slow and languid strokes. Gushy and hot and unforgiving. Even as slow as he was going every time his head nudged into your cervix you hissed into his mouth. But there was something about the little ache that you loved. Probably because it was Harry.

His pelvis dragged against your clit every time he pushed in and you felt his hand clutch the back of your neck as he licked into your mouth.

Your pussy was so full. So happy. You could feel yourself open and stretch around him. It had your head spinning.

Harry grunted as he lifted himself and softly pressed his nose against yours, “Feel that, baby? Feel Daddy’s cock sliding inside of your tight pussy? You’re gripping me so good.”

His slow rhythmic thrusts grew faster as he let go of the back of your neck and pushed himself up, palms on the mattress. His plunges were deeper and stronger and his thighs and back were flexing as he worked himself in and out, faster little by little.

“Shit! Daddy!” You shakily yelped at the faster cadence and the way he was now punching into your cervix, “It’s so fucking deep,” you gritted your teeth and threw your neck back.

“Is it too deep for your little pussy, honey? Huh?” He rutted his hips in as he asked, punctuating what he meant.

You inhaled sharply when he plunged in again, grinding his hips against yours and stuffing himself into the hilt, “Oh my god, yes! But I need it!”

Harry groaned as kept himself balls deep and sat back onto his haunches, grabbing onto your thighs to keep you in place.

With his hands at the back of your knees, he began to slide into you in long, heavy strokes until he was smacking into you just enough that your tits were bouncing and your bed was creaking in time with his thrusts.

Harry licked his thumb and lowered it to your clit which had you jolting with a small cry. Your clit was super sensitive after the way he’d handled you moments earlier.

He watched his cock move through your hole, your pussy wrapped around him tight and coating him in your cream. He moaned as his thumb was lathered in your arousal from how he was slipping it back and forth over your puffy clit.

Your small grunts and squeaks increased the wetter you got and the harder the mattress bounced under you. The patting of his skin against yours was rhythmic and bumped you upward every time he slammed into you.

You started to see stars, you could swear it as your limbs began to tingle and disintegrate. Harry was grunting and moaning at the view of your pussy wrapped around him tight and the way it felt to be swallowed by you, warm and wet and clenching.

Harry gasped and paused his strokes as he breathed heavily. His chest was red as leaned back over you and kissed you so sweetly it took your breath away. You both moaned in synch as your tongues wound around each other and wet lips slobbered together when he began to drill into you again, slower but with muscle.

You started to quiver with his chest pressed to yours and his cock deep inside of you, his pelvis grinding against yours.

“There you go… let me feel that pussy coming. Oh, baby that feels good doesn’t it,” he rutted into you as he spoke against your lips.

You nearly howled with your third orgasm. It was one thing to come from clitoral stimulation but quite another to have your clit being smeared into while having a big cock nudging in and out of you as you lost control of all functions.

Harry watched your face as you scrunched your brow and chanted Daddy and he drove into you in solid, squelching plunges. His cock made its way over your spongy insides repeatedly, hitting that one spot with his big crown over and over again until you were spent. Done for. There was nothing left for you to give.

Harry kissed you softly, stuffing himself into you gently, and moaned, “M’gonna come baby but I’m gonna pull out okay? Where do you want it sweet girl?”

You peeled your eyes open and exhaled softly, “In my mouth. Let me have it in my mouth, Daddy,” you nodded as you gripped his shoulders.

Harry stopped his motions and looked at you, almost as if in awe as he ticked his head back in forth like he was in disbelief, “Yeah?”

You nodded as he plunged in a few more times, pressing you upward, his eyes on yours as his moaning progressively got softer and you swore whiney even.

He pushed himself up and pulled out, taking his cock in his hand and pumping himself, smoothing your creamy arousal around his shaft and smothering his palm. He took his other hand and pulled you up by your neck and brought your mouth over his cock as he sat back onto his haunches.

You quickly lowered your mouth over him, tasting your juices as you sucked him in and then felt him begin to release down your throat in spurts. He coughed out a loud groan as he rutted upward, his tip slipping down your throat with his hand at the back of your head, “Fuck!” He panted and you felt his thighs shaking as he rolled his hips upward.

You swallowed and gurgled him down the best you could, gripping the base of his shaft in your hand and sucking while swirling your tongue around him until his cock stopped throbbing and pumping and he was softly gasping and breathing.

You licked your way up and popped your mouth off of him but you were in a daze.

Harry smoothed his lips against yours and easily laid you down on your back, “Just lay here and rest. I’ll be right back sweetheart.”

You closed your eyes and hummed to yourself at the taste in your mouth and the way your body was buzzing with satisfaction.

Opening your eyes just as Harry walked back into the room he was buck naked, cock swinging, chest slightly damp, and impossibly strong thighs. A god really. You’d never get over his body.

He held a glass of water out to you and had brought in a damp towel to wipe you up. You sat up to take a few gulps of water before he delicately pushed you to lie back down. The towel was warm and it felt so good on your sensitive skin.

Harry laid next to you and kissed your cheek and then nuzzled into your neck, his hot breath falling over your skin, “You’re amazing, baby. I’m never gonna forget tonight. So good for me.”

You sighed and turned to face him as he gently dabbed between your legs, “Kiss me, Daddy.”

His grin made the edges of his eyes crinkle, “Happily.” He pressed his mouth against yours and you both kissed soft and lazy as he tossed the damp towel to your floor and wrapped you in his arms.

You couldn’t be sure of how he kissed you but when he was helping you out of bed and speaking softly to you about having a bath with him so he could hold you longer you felt wobbly still.

With your eyes closed and your back against his chest in the warm water, he started talking. And as you felt more aware and conscious you realized he was sort of spilling his guts to you.

“I was so sad when I woke up this morning. But seeing you and all this,” he squeezed your arms, “I think I can breathe now. You made everything feel better, Y/n.”

You listened closely as he continued, his chest vibrating as he spoke, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that night. And I realized something too. Tonight. Just now. I think Kit was right. You and I do really have good chemistry. We fit so well together don’t we?”

You hummed and nodded with a small smile on your face.

He sighed and pulled his arms around you, “Don’t want this night to end. Want to just stay here with you, holding you like this.”

Your heart began to pound as you started to feel his words. You knew what he meant and you felt it. You could feel his scruff on your temple as he rubbed his face in toward yours, “You feeling better now?”

You nodded and turned toward his face, “Yes. So much better. You make me feel so good.”

Harry slowly blinked as he kept his gaze on yours, “You make me feel so good too.”

When the water grew tepid Harry wrapped you in a towel and tightly hugged you as he walked you to your room and made you drink more water.

He took your towel off and helped you into your bed and pulled your blankets over your naked body before he began to pick up his clothes from the floor.

You pouted and sat up, “Please don’t go. Will you stay here tonight? I need you here with me. I think I just…” you felt tears in your eyes as you looked upward to will them away.

Harry dropped his pants to the floor and sat on your bed, cupping your face to look at you, “I didn’t want to assume you wanted me to stay. But I’ll stay tonight. I’d love to stay with you.

So he did. He held you in his arms, pet your back, and kissed your forehead until you had drifted away into a deep sleep.

The morning was slow with the first bit of sun shining through the cracks of your window. You were burning hot in Harry’s arms so you poked your head up and breathed as you wiggled out of his hold.

“Where you going?” His groggy morning voice was too sexy to make sense.

“I have to pee,” you laughed as he released your wrist and you quickly padded to your bathroom.

When you got back into your room Harry was already dressed and running a hand through his hair as he looked at himself in your mirror.

Turning to face you he grinned at your Pokemon robe, “Cute. You’re always so fucking cute, Y/n.”

You looked down at the robe and shrugged at him with a small smile.

“I have to go. I hate to leave so quickly but I’ve got to get home to the boys and get them ready for our little outing today.”

You nodded, “Yeah. That’s okay. I understand.”

Harry tilted his head as he stepped in front of you and pulled you in for a hug. It felt like one of those this-is-it hugs. It felt so final.

“Y/n,” Harry pulled back to look at you, “You’re amazing. If you ever need anything or just want to say hi, you know how to reach me.”

You walked him to your door and watched as he made his way down the steps and out of your sight. Your final view of the only man you were sure you’d never get over.

.           .           .

“This is cute,” your cousin reached out to touch your pink pearl choker as you stuffed your bag with clothes.

You paused what you were doing and placed your fingers over the necklace with a smile, “Thank you.”

The necklace gave you warm and happy memories now. As much as you wished something could have happened between you and Harry you knew that just wasn’t possible. He was going through a divorce, had kids, a broken heart… But your last night together had mended you wholly. You knew it was something you’d never forget and you were grateful to him. You just hoped that maybe it did him some good too. Maybe it was something he took with him that made him smile like it did you.

The days and weeks after had been hard for you. Often you’d pick up your phone and compose a text, only to read it over and over again before deleting it. It was hard to let him go completely but now it was Christmas Eve and you felt like you were on the other side of it. Mostly. You still thought of him every day but it was easier.

“You have such good taste. You’ll have to go with me shopping sometime.” Chandy spoke as she plopped down on your bed next to your bag.

“That sounds fun actually.”

Chandy had come over to your apartment to pick you up since she lived so close. You were heading to her family home an hour out of the city. It was tradition for the whole family to get together at your aunt and uncle’s lake home. It was gorgeous in the winter with their soaring windows and snow all around.

You stacked presents into two grocery bags and slung your overnight bag over your shoulder, “Ready?”

“Yes! First, I have to use your bathroom then we’ll hit the road.” Chandy rushed off.

You sat on the edge of the arm of your couch and pulled out your phone to see a text that had your heart squeezing and throbbing.

It was a picture of Harry and the boys in front of a Christmas tree and his text read:

Merry Christmas, Y/n. We miss you!

You quickly typed out a response.

Merry Christmas! I miss you guys so much!

You placed your hand over your heart to calm yourself and the sudden rush of all your feelings you thought had begun to fade away came rushing back.

You closed your eyes after you watched your sent text go from delivered to read.

When you opened your eyes and saw that he was typing something your entire body grew hot as you stared intently at your phone.

“Okay! Ready!” Chandy chirped.

You stood up with your phone in your hand, “Uh, I’m gonna just go to the bathroom too real quick!”

You closed the bathroom door and felt the vibration from an incoming text. A wide grin on your face.

What are you doing for New Year’s?

As fast as your fingers allowed you responded.

No plans. What about you?

It was the longest wait while you watched the bouncing dots stop and restart. A full minute of waiting as you flushed the toilet (to pretend you’d been using it so Chandy didn’t wonder) and then washed your hands, staring at your screen.

The boys and I will be making a very “special” dinner and then we’ll ring in the New Year with sparkling grape juice and The Poseidon Adventure. They each invited a friend and told me I had to invite someone too.

Drying your hands off, you bit your lip and typed.

That sounds so fun. Who will you invite?

You chuckled to yourself. You were almost certain he was inviting you but you couldn’t be sure until you saw his response.

I’m inviting YOU. Wasn’t it obvious? ; )

Well, in that case, I’ll be there. I wouldn’t miss it. &lt;3

.           .           .

You had no idea what to expect for New Year’s but you and Harry hadn’t stopped texting since he reached out. The whole time you were with your family on Christmas you kept your phone by your side so you wouldn’t miss a single message.

You dressed casually for the New Year’s Eve party at Harry’s because there were going to be 4 ten-year-old boys there. And you learned the “special” dinner they were making was grilled cheese sandwiches, French fries, and for dessert chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. It honestly sounded amazing.

You also learned that Kit had moved out, leaving the house to Harry and they were on very good terms. They would split custody of the boys 50 / 50. And that technically they were still married but the divorce was moving along quickly because there were very few things that needed to be worked out. They seemed to be on the same page.

You parked in the street in front of the Styles house and noticed lights strung up on the columns of the porch and a Christmas wreath on the front door.

The moment you closed the door to your car you saw the front door open and Warner and William busted out and ran toward you, “Y/n!! You came!” – “Dad said you were coming!”

They both hugged you, one on each side and you could have cried. You hadn’t seen them since August and it was already December. You felt like they’d grown bigger in those few months.

They started to pull you toward the house but you laughed and stopped, “Hold on! I have presents for everyone in the car I have to get.”

You opened your trunk and pulled out two bags that had presents inside and when you closed it Harry was there in the yard watching you with a soft grin. You felt blood rush to the apples of your cheeks at the sight of him and your heart throbbed in your chest.

“Hi, Y/n,” his dimples winked awake and the corners of his eyes crinkled as he stepped forward to take your bags, handing one to Warner and one to William, “Take these inside and pour Y/n a glass of the New Year’s mocktail we made. We’ll be right in.”

You clasped your hands behind your back as you let your eyes fall over his outfit. He was wearing a red chunky knit sweater with a big green Christmas tree in the center that had gold and silver balls all over it, “Love the sweater.”

Harry looked down at it and back at you, “Love that you’re here.”

The heat that spread over your face stretched down your neck and your back as he stepped in closer. He was far too handsome for his own good and all the memories you had with him were flooding your brain with inappropriate thoughts but also with fondness and excitement.

“Thank you for inviting me.” You looked up at him as he stood directly in front of you.

Harry stared down at you for a moment, his eyes blinking and his pink lips twitching tremulously, “I know I look ridiculous in this,” he gestured at his sweater looking down at it and then back at you, “and this isn’t the most romantic reunion but I wanted to ask you before the festivities started if you’d like to go on a date with me tomorrow night?”

Your lips parted as the question floated around in the air between you two. You couldn’t believe he was asking you on a date.

“A date? Like…” You bit your lip and looked down at the ground and back up at Harry, “A date date?”

Harry smiled widely and nodded, “A date date.”

You exhaled a small laugh and nodded, “Harry, I’d love that. Yes.”

Suddenly his arms were wound around your middle and you squealed as he lifted you from the ground and spun you in his arms. The moment your feet hit the grass he gave you a quick kiss, cupping your face in his hands, and then parted as he looked back at the house.

Harry let you go and smirked at you as he took your hand to lead you to the house whispering, “Now I know this sweater is pure sex but you’re just gonna have to keep your hands to yourself tonight.”

You laughed and squeezed his hand, “It’s gonna be hard but I think I can behave.”

Harry stopped and turned his face toward you, his warm mouth at your ear, “Y/n, I’m so glad you’re here.”

A/N: I hope you guys loved this! Let me know your thoughts please!!

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[slaymitchabernathy]

The Nanny

꧁ One Month Later ꧂

Soarynn studies herself in the vanity mirror.

Would her father be proud of the woman she's become?

She's always tried to make him proud but being fired by the President of Panem is a bit of a letdown, a streak on her perfectly clean record. It's truly humbled her. Which is why today, she has an interview.

An interview for a job that has no emotional reasoning, only logic is involved. She's never been a receptionist before but it seems easy enough and if her skills and personality don't land her the job, then her last name certainly will.

"There are certain perks to being a Nightingale," she says to herself, applying a layer of lipstick.

The first few days after being fired as the Snow's nanny were short of horrible. She cried for hours on end, not necessarily because she got her feelings hurt, but because of the children. She didn't think she'd get so attached, but she did, broke every rule in the book by loving them and caring for them as if she were their mother.

Even though he warned her not to.

In fact, President Snow explicitly told her not to do so and she still did.

She could certainly blame Festus Creed, but at the end of the day, it was her own fault. She didn't grow careless, instead, she cared too much and it cost her the children.

A painful lesson to learn.

She turns on her stool to face Petunia who's been lounging on her bed since they both woke up for the day, "How do I look Petunia?" Her fluffy white cat only meows in response, batting a paw in the air. Soarynn allows herself a small smile, reaching over to scratch behind her ears before getting up to get dressed.

She picked out her outfit last night so she didn't run late. A stylish red dress with a straight neckline and a belt that accentuates her waist, and a pair of black heels. Simple yet classy. She chooses a few pieces of gold jewelry to go along with her outfit, earrings, a simple necklace, and perhaps a ring. She studies her small collection of rings that she's gathered over the years and her eyes land on a ring with a rose adorning it.

She'd be lying if she said it didn't hurt to see it.

Roses now hold a very deep, personal meaning to her.

She decides on a simple gold band and just as she's slipping it on, the doorbell rings.

Soarynn frowns, she had arranged for a driver to pick her up but that's not for at least another thirty minutes. Still, she quickly leaves her closet and makes her way out of her room and into the hallway. She glides down the marble staircase, Petunia hot on her heels to also see who's at the door.

Soarynn quickly runs her fingers through her hair, just in case there's a very attractive man on the other side of the doors who was looking for a wife.

Wouldn't that be wonderful?

The doorbell rings three more times in a row and Soarynn frowns, whoever is on the other side must be in a terrible hurry. She pulls the doors open and can't stop the shock from spreading across her face when she sees a small finger attached to the doorbell, more importantly, who is attached to that little finger.

Celeste smiles up at her, "Soarynn I rang the doorbell!"

Soarynn is at a loss for words when Celeste and Ceraphina rush in to hug her, talking a mile a minute, her hands resting on their blonde curls like it's second nature. She nods along to everything they say, trying to gain her bearings. Never in her life did she think the Snow girls would be at her house. She looks up for a moment and her heart nearly stops at the sight of President Snow standing on her doorstep, Caspian in his arms.

She knows she was hoping for an attractive man looking for a wife, but this is not exactly what she had in mind.

"Did you miss us?"

That question pulls her out of her daze and she nods, looking back down at the girls, "I've missed so you very much," she whispers, getting a bit emotional.

Ceraphina smiles and her attention is quickly drawn to Petunia who's been watching from a safe distance, "Petunia!" It's a mad dash the moment she speaks, Petunia darting into the living room and the girls chasing after her, giggling up a storm.

Soarynn doesn't even know what to do or say so she simply watches President Snow slowly walk up the steps and give her a nod, "May we come in?"

Soarynn focuses on Caspian who's already reaching out for her, "You might as well," she answers, giving Caspian's hand a squeeze, "Momma," he mumbles and President Snow sighs, "I know Cas, I know." His piercing gaze settles back on Soarynn and she feels a shiver travel down her spine, "I was hoping we could talk."

Soarynn swallows, she can't really say no, not to the President of Panem. "Alright." President Snow looks around the foyer of her home wearily as if memories are flashing through his mind of a time when this house was full of life a laughter.

Now it's filled with death and darkness, much like his own home.

"Perhaps we should have this discussion in the study," he suggests, forging forward and leaving her with no option but to follow him. He seems so sure of himself walking through her house, but he's been here before if she can recall, or he at least knew her parents quite well. Caspian lets out several whimpers and whines, flailing in his father’s arms as he carries them through the house.

He leads them to her father's study, a room she hasn't touched in months. He turns on the light and turns to face her, a bit of an uncomfortable look on his face, "I think he wants you to hold him."

"Yes," is all Caspian says and Soarynn is more than happy to oblige, lifting him from his father's arms and pressing a kiss to his head once he's safely in hers, "Oh, I missed you, sweet boy," she whispers. Caspian lifts his head and she grins when she sees that little smile on his face, "Lenny misses," he mumbles. Soarynn raises her eyebrows, "Lenny misses me too? I've missed him quite a lot as well."

Caspian seems content with her confession and rests his head back on her chest, leaving Soarynn to look back up at his father who's watching them with so much conflict behind his eyes. "Let's sit down," he finally says, rounding her father's desk as if he lives here.

Soarynn doesn't fight it though, she just sits down in the chair across from him, trying to forget what happened the last time they were seated like this.

"I have come..." he starts, his teeth clicking when he shuts his mouth, shaking his head, "I...I have come to apologize to you."

Soarynn raises her eyebrows again, "You have come to apologize?"

He nods, seemingly as surprised as she is, "I have," he confirms, "I was wrong for what I did, although I will not apologize for my reasoning." Soarynn furrows her eyebrows at his contradicting words and before she can say anything he holds his hand up, silencing her, "Let me explain my reasoning first, then you can tell me what a horrible human being I am," he says.

He sounds like he's said that a thousand times, always having to explain how he does things and he probably has. Being President means making hard calls, and tough decisions, and someone is always going to be hurt by them. This time, it was Soarynn.

"When I was alerted about the...incident, my main concern was my children. At the end of the day, their safety is my main priority. Not their happiness, not their upbringing, their safety. When I heard about what had transpired feet away from their rooms, no matter who was at fault, I knew their safety had been at risk and that was reason enough for me to dismiss you."

Soarynn looks back down at Caspian, sound asleep in her arms already. He had witnessed the horrific night, and something could've happened, Festus could've acted out of anger and hurt him or the girls.

"That being said, I cannot afford to act off of emotion. I can not afford to get close to anyone, to let anyone in. Not after Livia. So when I dared to break my rules for a moment, when I allowed you to call me by my name and then within the same breath found out about what happened between you and Festus, I knew what had to be done. I knew that by breaking my own rules, there would be consequences. I didn't however, expect to reap them so soon," he admits, sitting back in the chair, "but I was hurt nonetheless."

Soarynn didn't think President Snow was capable of being hurt, not from what she's seen. But perhaps his children are the one thing, the one way to hurt him. They're the one thing he loves and it's the things we love most that destroy us.

She purses her lips, "I understand," she says slowly, "I don't appreciate how rashly you acted and how you went about dismissing me but I do understand how important your children’s safety is. Their safety is important to me too. I would never do anything to endanger them."

He lets out a bitter laugh, rubbing his temples, "I know," he tells her, "I know you wouldn't and I know that you weren't the one who started the entire thing between you and Festus."

Soarynn's eyes widen at his statement. Where was this logic a month ago?

"I...I had my doubts," he says, "not that I didn't believe Festus but it was hard to picture the timid, quiet Soarynn Nightingale throwing herself all over a man who she didn't seem interested in a few hours ago, still, I had my loyalties and I did act rashly. It was partially due to you leaving immediately after which in my eyes, made you look guilty and it also..."

Soarynn watches him struggle to find the words to say, perhaps he's never uttered them before. "It also made me feel like a fool for letting you in and confiding in you. I thought perhaps I had found someone who genuinely cared about the sanctity of my family, someone whose care went further than the surface, so to have Festus whispering those lies in my ear truly clouded my judgment."

Soarynn blinks once, twice. She was not expecting this. None of this in fact. She was supposed to go to an interview and yet here she is, sitting with the man who fired her and managed to break her heart without even being romantically involved with her.

What a terrifying concept.

"But you know now," she says slowly, not entirely trusting herself to speak, "you know what he did to me?"

President Snow nods, a displeased look on his face, "I do," he confirms, "and I'm sorry you had to go through that, alone and without a job on top of that." Soarynn feels her lip tremble but she remains intact, she is not as breakable as he thinks.

"How do you know he's lying and I'm not?"

President Snow sighs, drumming his fingers on the wooden desk, "After I dramatically fired you, the girls were a mess as you briefly witnessed. They were inconsolable, and they refused to speak to me. This went on for several weeks as you can imagine, the tantrums, the crabiness, the distancing. I've hardly been able to recognize my darling daughters," he mumbles, shaking his head, "and I'm the one to blame. But I invited Festus over a few days ago for a drink, I needed to clear my head after the month I'd endured. Looking for a new nanny has proven to be more difficult than I anticipated. You've set our standards quite high," he tells her, a small twinkle in his eyes.

Soarynn feels herself swell with pride at his comment. To know that she's left a lasting mark, a lasting impression on his family is closure enough. But he continues talking, "I brought Caspian with me," he gestures to his sleeping son, "he hasn't been sleeping well since you left. Screaming, crying, the whole nine yards. The moment he saw Festus I saw something I've never seen in Caspian's eyes."

Soarynn peers down at the sleeping angel in her arms, the sweetest boy who has eyes identical to his father’s. She can't imagine what President Snow saw that frightened him so much.

"What did you see?"

"Hate."

His answer is enough to stun her. Caspian isn't capable of hate, he wouldn't hurt a fly let alone have it in him to hate someone.

President Snow nods as if reading her perplexed mind, "Exactly. He refused to look at Festus for the rest of the night until Festus went to tickle him, trying to cheer him up and Caspian pushed his hand away, another thing that stunned me. Then Festus made a few crude comments about you when I mentioned that your departure might be a reason for Caspian's behavior. I called him out on it but he insisted I was just tired and frustrated. When Festus was leaving, he went to give Caspian a friendly squeeze, he's more than used to it," he says, watching Soarynn nod along to his words.

"And then...and then Caspian said two words, and that was all I needed to hear to know that it wasn't you who came onto Festus, but Festus who came onto you and followed you upstairs while everyone else was down at the party."

Her mouth is dry with anticipation but she manages to speak, "What did he say?"

President Snow focuses his gaze on Caspian, a bit of pride in his eyes, "He pushed Festus away again and said: 'Hurt Momma' and I knew there was no one else on the earth that he could consider to be his mother but you."

Soarynn doesn't realize she's crying until a tear lands on top of Caspian's head, causing him to rouse from his sleep and press a hand on her cheek, "Momma." She looks down into his eyes, a loving smile on her face, "I'm right here darling."

"After that, I pushed Festus into telling the truth. He claimed he was drunk as if that made it any better or excused his actions. Then I remembered seeing the bruise on your wrist. I put the rest of the pieces together before taking care of Festus."

Soarynn looks at him from across the desk, both their eyes holding different emotions, "He...he found me when I was leaving Caspian's room. I bumped the doors open trying to get away and Caspian ended up witnessing the whole thing," she gets out, more tears burning as the memories resurface, "I didn't think he'd remember any of it after I got him back to sleep."

A flash of anger passes through his eyes before they return to normal and he clasps his hands, "I can assure you that Festus will be dealt with thoroughly."

Soarynn doesn’t press to find out what he truly means. As long as she doesn’t have to worry about Festus breaking into her home at night, then it’s none of her concern.

They both sit there for a moment, staring at each other as if neither of them truly knows what to make out of the other. For a second when they were dancing, Soarynn thought she had felt something, witnessed something genuine rather than the usual cold facade she was greeted with.

But he’s closed off now, even in the safety of her own home he’s on guard, protecting himself and his children. She can hear the girls giggling in the other room and a few meows of protest from Petunia who’s most likely tired out and given in to their want to play with her.

“Is this all you came for then?” She asks, her voice steadier than she thought it would be. After all these months, President Snow still has the capability of making her nervous. Even in her father’s study.

He shakes his head, clearing his throat while doing so. “No, I…we,” he gestures to himself and then to Caspian, “have come to ask for you to come back to us.”

Soarynn’s heartbeat rapidly increases at the request, at the chance to go back to being with the children. A small part of her worries about what could lie in the future, she could be fired again, humiliated again. And for something she did not do.

But the larger part of her wants nothing more than to wake up and face the new day with the Snow children by her side. The future might be prosperous for her and she’d be a fool to let it slip through her fingers.

“You want me back?”

President Snow nods, a small smile on his lips, “I will not lie and say that the past month has been easy. Eudora has taken on the brunt of caring for the children but she can’t do two things at once forever and there’s no one in this world who can care for them the way you do. The girls won’t accept anyone but you and I’m highly certain that Caspian feels the same way.”

Soarynn almost finds herself nodding to his proposal when she realizes how much time has passed. She’s missed her interview.

“I was supposed to have an interview today,” she says, more to herself than to him. “I was going to be a secretary for a law firm.”

President Snow quirks an eyebrow yet he does not look surprised in the slightest, “I know,” he plainly states, “I was the one who referred you.” Soarynn's jaw slightly drops, she hadn't expected him to have a helping hand in landing her interview but President Snow is full of surprises it seems. He scoffs a laugh at her dumbfounded expression, "Don't look so stunned," he tells her, leaning back in his chair, "you're an excellent worker, even if you didn't list me as a reference."

Soarynn blushes at his comment, she had chosen to forego listing him as a past employer for many obvious reasons, worrying that he might say something to further ruin her reputation. But instead, he helped her.

"Then you knew about it," she murmurs, daring to look him directly in the eye, "you knew my interview would be today, so you showed up right before I left."

The President of Panem almost looks...caught if that's even possible. Guilty would be a better term for it.

He cards a hand through his golden curls and sighs deeply, "I must admit that showing up today was a strategic plan on my part and a desperate one on Eudora's part since she's quite eager to have you back with us. We figured catching you before the interview would be our best route."

Soarynn didn't realize she was so special.

"Well, I...I would not be opposed to working for your family again," she says, straightening up in her seat, "but I would like to request a few things should I agree to your terms."

President Snow gives her a teasing look as if he hadn't expected this, but Soarynn would be a fool to blindly agree to come back without a safety net in place, "Go on," he encourages, "tell me your terms and conditions."

Soarynn clears her throat, feeling as if she's conducting a business meeting with him. Her father used to do this with her all the time when she wanted something, have her draft up a business proposal, or well, a semblance of one. That's how she got Petunia, a compelling argument can go a long way.

But this isn't her father.

"I would like actions to be taken to prevent another incident from occurring," she states, watching his eyes flash with anger but not at her, she knows who he's really mad at. "Not just in your home," she elaborates, "but anywhere we go, anywhere something bad could happen."

He laces his fingers together, "Anything else?"

"Yes, the children need something to look after, some responsibility like a pet." His nostrils flare at her suggestion, you'd think she suggested setting fire to the Mansion, "A pet is a huge undertaking," he tells her, using the same voice he uses with his girls, "not to mention messy and loud. An animal in my house is quite unlikely."

Soarynn frowns and rubs soothing circles on Caspian's back when he slightly stirs, "A horse then," she decides, "build a stable and allow the girls to take riding lessons. They could learn a great deal by taking care of the horse." He looks off into the distance as if contemplating her proposal and Soarynn hopes he'll accept it, the girls love animals and while a dog might be better suited for them, a horse is a step in the right direction.

"I'll speak to my groundskeepers about building stables," he finally says.

Soarynn cheerfully nods, "Wonderful."

"Is there anything else?"

Soarynn tugs at her bottom lip with her teeth, she can't think of anything else off the top of her head, except..."I want you to listen to me when I try and tell you something," she tells him, "I want you to trust that I would never do anything to put your children in danger and if someone says I would, then I want you to come to me first, not fire me first."

His throat bobs and she knows she's got him. Soarynn shouldn't be talking to her boss this way but this might be her only chance.

"Alright Ms. Nightingale," he says slowly, "I'll agree to your conditions. They seem fair and logical, and I can have my secretary write up a contract listing all of them for the two of us to sign off on."

Soarynn is buzzing with excitement, she gets to go back, to be with the children again.

"Now let me list my terms and conditions."

What?

President Snow wears a smirk letting her know that this won't be a one-sided exchange, "For starters, you'll actually take your one day off every month instead of spending it with my children. I know you've been avoiding those days but it's important for one to have a day of rest."

Soarynn slightly slouches in her chair but doesn't argue with him, perhaps a day off every now and then wouldn't be the worst thing. "Secondly, and I'm speaking for my entire family when I say this, we want you to become a live-in nanny."

Soarynn scrunches her eyebrows in confusion. A live-in nanny?

He waves off her confusion with the wave of his hand, "You'll move into the mansion with us, be with my children at all hours of the day instead of returning to your home every night." He looks around the study that hasn't been touched since the day her father died, dust covering almost anything, "I have a feeling that it must get quite lonely in this large house."

Soarynn purses her lips, it certainly does get lonely but she has Petunia to keep her company and she can't just abandon her. "I'd have to bring my cat," she tells him, watching his jaw clench, "I can't leave her, she's all I have left of him," she whispers the last part. "Besides, the girls already love her and she won't cause any trouble I swear. All she does is sleep."

They're at a bit of a standstill, both wanting something from the other, not willing to give up or back down.

Finally, he breaks.

"Fine. Your cat may come but should she damage any of my property, she's out."

Soarynn can't hide the smile growing across her face, she gets her children back and Petunia gets to come with her. Oh, the girls will be so excited when they hear the news. "You can start today I presume?' He asks while rising from his seat. Soarynn quickly nods and does the same, adjusting her hold on Caspian, "Yes sir."

He grunts, "Very well then. Pack your things and my men will bring them all to the Mansion this afternoon. You and the children can return home once you're finished packing."

Soarynn's smile slightly drops at his orders, "You're not coming with us?" He looks perplexed by her question and sudden disappointment but shakes his head, "I have meetings to attend in the city. I assumed you would accept my offer so I would then be able to leave my children in your trusted care once again. I have another car waiting outside to take you all back home."

Soarynn purses her lips but she doesn't push him any further, this discussion has been a lot for the both of them.

"Home," Caspian repeats, now wide awake. Soarynn softly chuckles and places a kiss on top of his head, "Mhm, we're all going home Cas."

President Snow eyes her and his son, a somewhat fond expression in his eyes although she doubts it's for her and most likely for his son, but she wonders what it would be like for him to look at her that way. He might have looked at Livia like that once upon a time before their world came crashing down.

"Daddy! Daddy look!"

The girls come running into the study, drawing their focus to the topic at hand which will always be the children. Soarynn looks down to find a very annoyed-looking Petunia with a pink ribbon tied around her neck while being held in Ceraphina's arms. She lets out a pleading meow when she sees Soarynn as if saying: 'Save me.'

A small smile graces the President's lips, a genuine one at that, reserved only for his darling children, "She doesn't look too pleased about playing dress-up darling." Ceraphina shakes her head, "She loves it, don't you Petunia?"

Petunia does her best to avoid eye contact with anyone, looking at the ground instead, "Your house is so big Soarynn," Celeste tells her, reaching up to take her hand. Soarynn gladly takes it, knowing now to cherish every moment with these sweet angels, "I won't be staying in it for much longer," she muses, watching both girls grow curious faces. "What do you mean? Are you moving?" Celeste asks, tugging on her hand with an anxious look on her face.

Soarynn immediately crouches down so she's at eye level with both girls who have been dealing with loss for quite some time now, her departure only adding to that trauma, "I am moving," she tells them, watching the crestfallen looks on their faces only grow deeper causing a smile to grow onto hers, "because I'm moving in with you. I'm going to be your live-in nanny now."

The change in their demeanors is instantaneous, the girls go from on the verge of tears to shrieking and jumping up and down.

"Really?! You're really gonna come live with us Soarynn?"

"I am," Soarynn confirms, "Petunia is too."

This might be the best news the girls have ever gotten. They go from hugging Soarynn to hugging their father, thanking him for allowing Soarynn to return. Caspian rests a hand on her cheek and she turns to look into his blue eyes, identical to his father's, "Stay," he says with a determined tone.

Soarynn nods, pressing a kiss to his hand, "I'm staying," she tells him, "I'm not going anywhere."

꧁ ꧂

Everything becomes a blur once President Snow leaves.

After saying goodbye to the children and making them promise to behave, he left for his meetings and Soarynn took the children upstairs so she could start packing.

She packs the necessities first, things such as toiletries and her favorite clothing items while the girls run rampant through her room, wanting to see and touch everything she's ever owned. She doesn't mind though, she's simply happy to be back in their presence again. Caspian sits atop her bed, watching her pack her things into a suitcase while Petunia sits next to him, both their curious blue eyes watching her every move.

"Soarynn, who's this?"

Soarynn glances over at her bookshelf where Ceraphina and Celeste are staring at a photograph of her and her father together, taken the day she graduated from the Academy. "That's my father," she says with a sad smile, "he passed away a while ago."

Ceraphina reaches out to touch the photograph, gently so she doesn't risk knocking it over, "Where's the pictures of you with your mommy?"

A wave of sadness washes over Soarynn, knowing that she'll never have a photograph of her and her mother together is a painful reminder of how her mother passed away. "She died when I was a baby," she explains, "so we never got to take a photo together."

Cera Nightingale was known for her beauty and acts of kindness. She was known to be graceful and full of life, lighting up every room she walked into. So it was no surprise that she fell for Glen Nightingale, a quiet man with a large heart and a kind demeanor. The couple had been overjoyed when they found out Cera was pregnant with their firstborn daughter, who would unbeknownst to them, take Cera's life during the traumatic birth.

And yet her father remained endlessly kind and patient with her, even though Soarynn carried guilt deep down, a feeling that she was responsible for killing her mother. She didn't speak of her mother often, the last time she spoke of her was with President Snow who remarked on their similar looks and traits of kindness, both things she would never bear witness to.

"It's okay," Celeste tells her, crossing the room to place a comforting hand on Soarynn's leg, "as long as we have Daddy, we'll be okay." Soarynn finds it so very adorable and kind of Celeste to be comforting her in this time of sadness, especially at such a young age. President Snow had commented on how she might make his children more kind but that seems impossible, they're already endlessly kind.

"Yes," Soarynn agrees, "we'll all be okay."

꧁ ꧂

It's a wonderful feeling to be back in the President's Mansion. Soarynn thought she might never grace these halls again, let alone with Petunia who took one look at the grand foyer before turning her head and making her way up the stairs. It might take some more exploring to impress her.

"Here's your room dear," Eudora calls, "right down this hall."

Soarynn finds herself surprised when she realizes that her room is in the same hall as the rest of the Snow family's rooms, right in between the girl's bedrooms and Caspian's room. Probably for the convenience of things but she's still shocked to be in such close proximity to the Presidential family, especially President Snow himself who's now only a few doors down.

"Coriolanus wanted you to have this room," Eudora tells her once they all reach the doors, "he said you might enjoy the view." Eudora pushes the doors open after saying that and Soarynn can't stop the gasp from leaving her lips.

It's gorgeous.

It's also huge. There's a large canopy bed pressed against the back wall which has large windows on each side, letting in so much natural light. To the right is a large sitting area with sofas, armchairs, and a fireplace. There are also bookshelves and a large coffee table in the middle of the seating arrangements.

To the left is a large-looking vanity with a dresser and a full-length mirror in the corner. "Oh my goodness," she whispers as she walks into the room, the girls running ahead of her. "Come and see the closet!" Ceraphina says, running into what must be the closet and bathroom. Soarynn follows her as if in a trance, taking a moment to look up at the high, intricately carved ceilings.

The bathroom is just as massive with a tub, shower, and huge counter space with a large mirror as well. There are two sinks and lots of storage space under the counters as well. Soarynn also notes a built-in vanity area as well should she choose to get ready in the bathroom instead.

"You can put your dresses in here," Celeste tells her, pointing towards the closet. Celeste had taken a liking to all of Soarynn's dresses, claiming they were fit for a princess. Soarynn was honored to be considered a princess even though she felt she was far from being one.

“This is amazing,” she whispers to herself when she finally walks into the large walk-in closet. It’s as big as the bathroom with a large table in the middle with a vase of roses sitting on top of it.

“There’s a card!” Ceraphina says, standing on her tiptoes to reach the card leaning against the base of roses. Eudora ends up reaching it for her, a curious look on the older woman’s face which means she had nothing to do with this mystery letter.

Ceraphina proudly brings it over to Soarynn who reluctantly takes it, turning it over to see if anything’s been written on it.

On the front, it simply reads:

To Ms. Nightingale

She turns it and finds that the back has been sealed with a stamp, a rose in the center of the wax. “Rose,” Caspian says, touching the wax for a moment. Soarynn nods before setting the card down on one of the shelves, “I can read it later. Why don’t you girls help me unpack?”

She’s met with excited gasps from the girls and a relieved sigh from Eudora who had been so very happy to see Soarynn walking back into the Mansion. “We’ve been quite miserable without you dear,” she had said as they walked up the grand staircase, “you’ve left a mark on this family it seems.”

The girls run back out into the bedroom to start unpacking the small bag Soarynn brought with her. The rest of her things are packed in trunks, waiting to be picked up by President Snow’s men, whoever they are. Soarynn has seen so many men over the past few months, ranging from Peacekeepers to diplomats. They have one thing in common: President Snow signs their paychecks.

“I have some things to put together, you know where to find me,” Eudora tells her and Soarynn nods, “Of course. Thank you, Eudora.”

Soarynn lingers in the closet for a moment once Eudora leaves, making it just her and Caspian in this large room with so much space she doesn’t know if she’ll be able to fill it.

What if this all goes away? What if he fires me again? What if I lose the children again?

A million terrible thoughts race through her head, thoughts about being forced out of this house again but this time would be much more painful. To have to pack her things and then leave would be devastating.

But it won’t come to that. Not if she has anything to do with it.

“Rose,” Caspian says again, pointing at the letter.

Soarynn sighs and picks it up again, feeling the paper between her fingertips, “Let’s open it now hmm?”

Soarynn walks into the bathroom and carefully sets Caspian down on the countertop before tearing open the wax seal. Her fingers slightly tremble as she pulls out the thick card, only a few words written on it from what she can see.

“Soarynn! Come look at Petunia!”

Her eyes are glued to the card when she answers, “Coming darling!”

Soarynn sets the card down on the counter, letting out a sigh before collecting herself and picking Caspian back up. She has things to do, a job to do in fact and she plans on doing it better than the first time.

But the letter stays in the back of her mind the entire day.

Those words linger on the tip of her tongue and lead her to think about the man sleeping a few doors down from her.

I do hope you enjoy the view of the gardens, and I do hope you find your new room is up to your standards. Should you need anything, don’t hesitate to let me know. I hope we can share another dance in the near future. Yours truly, Coriolanus Snow

꧁ ꧂

꧁ One Week Later ꧂

���I don’t want to wear black.”

Soarynn suppresses a sigh, she knows it’s no use in fighting any of the children today. Not when it holds such a heavy burden on their hearts.

“We have to wear black because Daddy said so,” Ceraphina reminds her little sister, fixing her own black dress, “then we can go put flowers on Mommy’s grave.”

Today marks the two-year anniversary of Livia Snow's death.

It's now a national day of remembrance and many establishments are closed for the day, including all the schools in the Capitol. Soarynn had glanced out of the front windows of the Mansion earlier this morning to see a crowd of people gathering at the front gates to lay down flowers and cards for the family.

The girls were fine during breakfast, chattering away like normal but their father was far from normal, acting more curt and closed off than usual, which was saying something for the man. Caspian didn't seem to be affected by today's significance, but Soarynn still felt terrible about it.

If Livia were still alive, she wouldn't be working for the Snow family.

"It's not a princess dress," Celeste whines, stomping her foot.

Before Soarynn can offer a word of encouragement, an authoritative voice fills the bedroom, stern and sharp, "I will not allow any misbehavior today Celeste. You should know better by now."

Celeste shrinks into herself and Soarynn glances over her shoulder at President Snow, looming over all of them with an aggravated look on his face. She swallows and turns her attention back to the youngest Snow daughter, making sure her hair is properly clipped back, "It's just for a little while darling," she whispers, hoping to salvage the rest of the day, "and you look tremendously grown up in your dress."

Celeste's bottom lip quivers and tears are quick to follow, "I...I don't wanna be grown up, I want Mommy back!" Soarynn's heart clenches at the sight of Celeste in tears, clearly hurting on this dreadful day. "I'm sorry," she whispers, crouching down to comfort Celeste, "I'm sorry she's not here anymore darling. But she's watching over you, and I know she'd be so proud of you." Celeste sniffles and allows Soarynn to pull her in for a hug, a few hiccups escaping her throat, "I don't want Daddy to be mad at me," she whispers, more tears flowing down her face.

Soarynn shakes her head and wipes her tears, "He's not mad at you darling, he could never be mad at you." She looks over her shoulder again at the man who she still knows so little about, but she knows one thing for certain, he loves his children. And he's hurting just as much as they are today.

She can see the sadness in his eyes, watching his youngest daughter break down over the loss of her mother, someone she barely got the chance to know. Ceraphina had been three when Livia passed away, Celeste was two and Caspian was still a baby.

But who could forget a mother's love?

"Come here Celeste," he says quietly, holding out a hand.

Celeste looks up at him with a bit of hesitation and Soarynn gives her a gentle squeeze, "Go on darling," she encourages, standing back up and moving to the side. She watches Celeste slowly walk over to her father, her head lowered, eyes trained on the floor. President Snow sighs and gets down on one knee to be more at eye-level with her.

He takes her small hands in his large ones and while Soarynn can't distinctly make out what he says to her, she knows it's comforting from the way Celeste melts into his hold, letting him wrap his arms around her while they both grieve.

Soarynn has never seen President Snow cry but today could be the day where a tear graces his stoic face.

She looks down at Ceraphina who's watching the interaction with watery eyes as well, "Are you alright Ceraphina?" She asks, wanting to make sure all the children are equally attended to today. Ceraphina nods and wipes any trace of tears away with the back of her hand, "Daddy says it'll get easier," she tells Soarynn, not taking her eyes off of her father and sister, "he says one day we won't be sad when we think about Mommy."

She looks up and gives Soarynn a small smile, "I don't think I can be happy today though."

Soarynn nods, resting a loving hand on top of her blonde hair, "You can be sad for as long as you want darling. No one expects you to get over it in a day or even in a year."

Ceraphina hums, "I know. I'm not like Daddy."

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn hadn't expected the cemetery to be closed today.

But now that she's seen how many people have gathered outside of the fence, she's not surprised. It's the biggest crowd she's ever seen as their car pulls up to the cemetery entrance, two Peacekeepers open the gates so that their car can drive through.

Everyone is in black.

A few people wave, all their faces somber. She spots some older women sporting mourning veils while little children clutch onto their parents and watch the car drive by.

She holds Caspian a little tighter in her lap, making sure his coat is properly buttoned. It's a cold November day, cloudy and dreary, almost fitting for the occasion.

She watches Ceraphina and Celeste lean against their father, sitting on either side of them while President Snow keeps his eyes closed and his head tilted back. He must be exhausted.

The car slowly comes to a stop and Eudora is the first one out, sporting her own mourning attire, a long black coat, a black wig, and eyelashes to match. Soarynn thinks about how Livia's funeral was the hardest thing for Eudora to plan. And who could plan for something like that?

Soarynn out of all people knows how hard it is to lose a parent. No one should have to plan for something like that.

"Let's go children," Eudora calls, waving them to follow her.

Ceraphina looks up at her father before slowly sliding across the seat and out of the car, taking Eudora's hand the second her feet touch the ground. President Snow finally opens his eyes and leans down to whisper something in Celeste's ear. Her eyes widen and she nods, taking his hand once again before they both get out of the car.

"It's our turn Caspian," Soarynn says softly, making sure she's got a good hold on the youngest Snow child while she steps out of the car. She's offered a hand and manages to keep a neutral expression as she takes President Snow's hand, gracefully standing back up to her full height, "Thank you," she says.

He only nods in response before turning on his heel to lead the way.

Soarynn has never visited Livia Snow's grave so she can only follow him and watch the children. Celeste and her father stay in the front with Eudora and Celeste in the center. Soarynn and Caspian bring up the rear and she takes a quick look around and notes several Peacekeepers either following them or patrolling the perimeter of the cemetery.

Soarynn has gotten more used to their presence but seeing them with their large guns makes her anxious.

Soarynn walks a bit faster to catch up to Eudora and Ceraphina and she lowers her voice before asking her a question, "Are we...are we allowed to be with the family for this?"

Eudora keeps her gaze trained on what's ahead of her but she shakes her head, "You and I will stay back while they visit her grave."

Soarynn hums, focusing her gaze on the back of President Snow's head, his blonde curls swept back and away from his face looking so soft. She wonders if Livia ever ran her fingers through them, if she ever looked up at him so adoringly.

From what Eudora's told her, probably not.

They walk deep into the cemetery, farther than Soarynn anticipated but when she sees the sheer size of Livia's tombstone, she can see why it's so far back.

Many people in the Capitol are rich, wealthy, and elite. But you can't take your money with you when you die. Unless you're Livia Snow. Her grave isn't even a grave, it's a mausoleum with roses growing outside of it. Soarynn has seen many decrepit graves but this is not one of them. The marble stone shines as if it's brand new. They must have someone come and clean it from time to time. Soarynn knows the Capitol citizens often come to pay their respects and leave flowers as well.

The doors leading to the inside are closed and if Sosrynn remembers correctly, they're always closed to the public. Only the family is allowed inside.

President Snow and Celeste come to a halt in front of the stone structure and both of them look back at their remaining family members. Ceraphina lets go of Eudora's hand and slowly makes her way over to her father and sister, reaching up to grab her father's other hand. Soarynn takes in a shaky breath before slowly approaching Livia's gravesite, Caspian feeling so heavy in her arms all of a sudden as if there's a weight on her chest.

Caspian reaches out for his father the second he's within reach, "Momma," he says, pointing at the doors. President Snow's face is grim but he nods, "I can take him." Normally, Soarynn would hesitate, not wanting to burden her employer but today is not the day to question his orders so she silently hands the small boy off to his father who holds him as if he weighs nothing.

"Let's go visit your mother," he says to the children, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a key.

Soarynn takes this as her sign to leave and gives the girls one last encouraging nod before she walks back to where Eudora is standing. They both watch the Snow family make their way inside the mausoleum, all of them scuffling behind one another. "It never gets easier," Eudora says with a sigh, "last year was horrible if you can imagine."

Soarynn certainly can imagine how terrible it must have been, the first year is always the hardest. "He seems tired," Soarynn notes, "his patience is thinner today than it usually is."

Eudora lets out a dry laugh, "If he had his way, we wouldn't even come and visit her. He does this for the children, it helps them understand and move on. But I know he wants nothing more than to move past this."

Soarynn can't imagine wanting to move past the death of her husband if she should ever marry. She'd spend every day mourning his loss and yet President Snow looks like he'd rather be at a meeting.

"I suppose we all grieve differently," Soarynn decides.

Soarynn looks over at the fence where a crowd has gathered, watching them and the Snow family with curious eyes and a few with cameras. "Is there always a crowd?" Eudora perks up and nods, "Oh yes. Last year it was even bigger, that's why we closed down the cemetery today, it was far too chaotic the first time."

It must be terribly strange to have people watching your every move while you mourn the loss of a family member. The Snows are already under a microscope, and Livia's death has only increased people's opinions about them.

"Is it alright if I walk around for a bit?" Soarynn asks, shoving her hands into the pockets of her coat, "I feel a bit out of place just standing here." Eudora gives her shoulder a gentle pat, meant to be comforting, "Of course, dear."

Soarynn offers her a tight-lipped smile before she begins her journey to the far side of the cemetery where many elite members of society have been buried. While none of their graves compare to Livia's, they're still monumental, not to mention incredibly expensive. It's one thing to afford a nice house or apartment while you're living, but to afford a tombstone when you're dead is another thing entirely.

Soarynn wouldn't care if she was buried in a wooden box, but that's just the way things are.

She passes several plots reserved for entire families before she stops in front of the familiar plot, only space for one more grave.

Hers.

She walks up to the graves of both her parents, dusting off any dirt or leaves from the tops. Her fingertips drag over the engraved words on their headstones.

Cera Nightingale - Beloved Wife & Mother "Till we meet again in the meadow."

Glen Nightingale - Beloved Husband & Father "My grief has been the souvenir of our love."

What will hers read?

Beloved Daughter & Cat Owner?

She can't imagine what will happen when Petunia gets older, she's all she has left of her father, and her family for that matter.

"I miss you," she whispers, resting a hand against her father's headstone, "I miss you every time I close my eyes."

Soarynn hadn't known loss until she lost her father. It's terrifying to love something that death can so easily touch.

Soarynn stays there for what feels like an eternity until she hears a small voice calling out her name, "Soarynn!"

Soarynn quickly wipes any trace of tears or emotion off of her face before turning around to face Ceraphina who's run up to her, her cheeks red from the cold. She doesn't look like she's been crying her eyes out which is a good thing she hopes. "Hello darling," she greets her, brushing a stray hair from her face, "how're you feeling?"

Ceraphina shrugs, looking around at the surrounding graves, "I'm okay. We got to pick the roses and put them on Mommy's grave and then I got to talk to her and tell her I turned five and then Celeste talked to her and said she turned four. Then Caspian said something about Lenny except I can't remember the rest. Then Daddy whispered some words and now here we are."

Soarynn looks up to find that the entire Snow family has made their way over to her, Eudora included. Ceraphina peers around Soarynn's legs and her eyes zero in on her parent's tombstones, "Did you know these people?"

Soarynn hums, "These are my parents graves."

She watches Ceraphina slowly approach the tombstones, her small hand resting on her mother's stone, "Do you come to visit them a lot?" Soarynn shakes her head, more guilt eating away at her heart, "No," she answers, "I should visit more often but I don't."

She watches out of the corner of her eyes as Celeste lets go of her father's hand and reluctantly walks over to her big sister, her eyes scanning the engraved words. "Is this about the meadow song?"

Soarynn tilts her head at the question, "The meadow song?"

"Uh-huh. The meadow song with the bed of grass. It says: 'Till we meet again in the meadow.' Is that what it's talking about?"

Soarynn honestly hadn't thought of that before. She'd visited her mother's grave countless times when her father was still alive but she never really considered the meaning behind the words that were the last bits of Cera Nightingale. Leave it to a four-year-old to put the pieces together before she did.

"That's a nice way to think of it," she finally says.

The girls whisper a few things to each other and then turn back around, "Can we leave them flowers?"

A smile creeps onto Soarynn's face at their sweet request. She brought flowers in the beginning after her father died, but she stopped after a while. Stopped trying, stopped trying to heal that hole in her heart. But these girls might just be able to fix it.

"We sure can."

The girls smile and take each other's hands to go and pick some flowers growing near the fence. Soarynn watches them and feels his presence next to her, both of them grieving different losses today, "Do you think they're proud of you?"

Soarynn swallows at his question, it's a loaded one but she never had to worry about making her parents proud. That was never the most important thing to her family. "I think they're cheering me on," she answers, finally looking up at him. Even dressed in all black, President Snow is so very handsome. His gaze never wavers away from his girls but she can see how emotionally exhausting this has all been for him.

"I don't think Livia is cheering me on," he says, shaking his head, "I think she's watching me and thinking about what a failure I am to our children."

Soarynn frowns and rests a hand on his arm before she can stop herself and he finally tears his gaze away from the girls to look down at her, piercing blue meeting stormy gray, "You're not a failure," she says softly, "you're a father, and you're trying your best. Just like my father did. He certainly didn't have it all figured out on the first day."

President Snow looks over at her father's tombstone and he furrows his brows, "Your father was a good man. He had it much harder than me, raising an infant while also mourning the death of his wife and yet he never once thought about hiring a nanny. He said you deserved better, that you deserved his attention and he was right," his eyes hold a hint of what might be adoration but Soarynn isn't sure, "you do deserve better Soarynn."

She could blame it on the wind or the cold but Soarynn feels tears burning in her eyes, "You're a good father," she insists, "I've seen it with my own eyes, you love your children and you're trying to do the best by them, even if it means hiring a nanny. Admitting your weaknesses is the first step to getting stronger. You can't be there for them all the time so you found someone who can. That doesn't make you a monster, it makes you human."

She swears she can see a tear roll down his cheek but her vision is pretty blurry from her own tears.

"Sometimes I worry the grief might never leave," he admits, blinking away any possible tears, "not that we had much love for each other to begin with."

Soarynn can hear the girls running back to them, giggling while holding flowers no doubt to decorate her parent's graves. They both look over and watch the girls run to Eudora first, showing her and then Caspian, who's hugged to her hip the flowers. Caspian smiles and reaches down to touch the petals. So young and yet so much life ahead of him, ahead of all of them really.

"The grief might end someday," Soarynn says, "but the love never will."

| Part 5. |

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

{ Part 6. }

[soft4gguk]

to build a home | chapter twelve

Pairing: Jungkook x reader. ceo!jk + dilf!jk x nanny!oc

Genre: strangers to lovers. angst. fluff. smut.

Word count: 18k (hehe)

Warnings: this is so long i don’t know that i remember every single thing i must’ve included here but i’ll try my best lol. angst!! this is a very angsty chappie but it’s needed ok? so sad so sexy oc. jungkook is a dick twice!! for like a second but its bc he’s scared :( & stressed. Unprotected sex (don't!!! xo). they dirty talk a lot acc. i think thats it? i hope thats it lol. 

Author’s note: it’s a sunday and we have a new tbah chapter!! thank you, truly, from the bottom of my heart for waiting. and for giving me such a warm welcome and giving my writing so much love, even amidst my absence. i really hope you guys enjoy this installment of to build a home! i poured my heart on this and i enjoyed it so, so much. it felt like the good old days!! do let me know what you thought - i feel like there’s so much to UNPACK for this one. i love you guys x a million. thank u for reading <3 

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

Chapter Twelve

The sun stirs you awake this morning, its rays sneaking their way inside your room with every gust of wind that makes the curtains dance and the moment you regain the smallest bit of consciousness, you know it’s too early. You’re not meant to be awake for another hour or so but after a minute of tossing and turning, you begin to feel the sleep drift out of you. Your mind fills with thoughts and things to do, feelings and their unresolved natures. It’s Monday, after all, lots to do, lots to feel and certainly lots to confront. 

You slip out of the comfort of your blankets and pillows, putting your headphones over your head and pressing shuffle on the first playlist you find, cranking the volume a little too high in hopes that it will quieten the sea of thoughts that begin to whirlwind inside your mind. You make your way to the kitchen and almost miss the peace and quiet of six a.m., specially here. When the world is still asleep and it’s just you and you can let yourself fall into the long process of making yourself a cup of coffee. More than a process, you’d call it a ritual. You find it good to just stare at your hands at work, resilient in providing sweet satisfaction in a matter of minutes. And so, despite the lack of peace and quiet this morning provides, you get to work. Grinding the coffee beans until they’re silky smooth, pouring the water into the bottom of your italian press and putting it all back together to rest at the stove top. Until all there’s left to do is wait. Wait, wait, wait… 

“I love you.”

You wish it was those mere words that were pressing on you. But it was more. It was the way you felt his body weight on top of yours grow tense. The way the seconds felt like minutes, and then hours, until not even in proximity could you feel him close. How the air felt dense around you and your nerves got the best of you. 

“You don’t have to say it back. I’d say it was a heat of the moment thing but… I don’t think that makes any difference.” 

It all echoes inside of your head. Inside of your chest. Your words, the stutter, the awkward laughter that followed as you tried to brace yourself for whatever came next. Only nothing did. 

He didn’t say it back. 

He didn’t say it back when the high came down and you both wrapped your bodies around each other. He didn’t say it back as he kissed you, slowly and with that lazy characteristic that takes on when he’s sleepy, but not less filled with intention. He fell asleep first, his body impossibly flushed to yours, your fingers carded in his hair for hours as you laid awake, unable to reconcile sleep. 

He didn’t say it back when his lips on your cheeks woke you up the next morning. It was sweet, your mind blank with the exception of the bliss his touch basked you in. He kissed and touched, he pleased. But he didn’t say it back. 

He didn’t say it back throughout the day but by then your mind had fallen at ease, taking you by surprise, even. It was a lazy Sunday morning that turned into a lazy Sunday afternoon, nothing but peace and leisure as the three of you spent the day by the pool. Snacking on whatever the season had turned ripe and sweet. It was a perfect summer day and as Soori splashed about and you looked into each other’s eyes in pride and joy, you thought that maybe, just maybe, he was trying to tell you.

But he didn’t say it back. Not when you said goodbye after putting Soori to sleep, not when he kissed you and said he’d see you tomorrow. Not when you turned around, stealing one last glance at him, lingering for a second too long in awe of his beauty as he smiled and leaned by his doorframe, taking you in. Not even when he called you to make sure you’d gotten home safe and his silence and yours filled the line right as you were about to hang up. And then you didn’t, and you waited, until the line disconnected. 

Your coffee overheats as you go back and forth, one cruel thought after the other, and it’s the lid jumping and splashing the liquid everywhere that brings you back to your small kitchen. 

“Shit.” You remove the pot from the stove and let it rest for a minute as you clean up the mess. Getting lost in your thoughts again because, hey, at least you woke up early, so as to give you enough time to let the overthinking make you clumsy. 

Ten different things go wrong before you’re finally able to sit down on your couch, freshly brewed iced americano in one hand, your journal and pen in another. All you need to do is let your thoughts leave you. Yes, that’s exactly what you need to do. You need to come back to yourself as you sip your coffee slowly and fill an entire page worth of your feelings. It’s catharsis in it’s purest form. A foul-proof method, at that. 

Only it isn’t. You fill the pages with sentences like,

Why didn’t he say it?

I should’ve not acted like it meant nothing to me. It meant the world to me. 

He means the world to me.

I love him. 

Does he not love me back?

And the one that filled the pages the most,

Why doesn’t he love me back?

And by the time you’re ready to leave the house, you’re still a ball of unresolved emotions and a chaotic neutral feeling taking over your every being because all you want to do is scream but you’re running late to see the root of all your problems. 

~

Thankfully, the root of all your problems walks inside his kitchen that morning holding what you believe is the cure of all that is wrong in the world: his daughter. 

“Oh my God, you look so cute,” and she does. A smile that makes you melt, two pigtails held by tiny pink bows and an oversized Winnie The Pooh t-shirt that brings her whole look together. “Good morning, baby.”

The moment she falls into your arms you feel an ease run through you that makes you submit to the harsh edges of the world, waving white flag. She’s foul-proof magic and method. 

“Good morning,” he says, giving you a smile that almost washes away your uncertainties. 

“Good morning.” You take Soori from his arms and return the smile, but he can tell it’s not quite there yet. Not that he thinks much of it – your morning meet ups in the kitchen are always cordial but not overly so, you wouldn’t want Mrs. Chae to suspect anything. – 

“I have a busy week coming up.”

“You do?” It’s a question that translates to, you didn’t mention that and Jungkook doesn’t miss it in your tone. 

 “Yeah. So I’ll probably be home a bit late. No more than an hour, though, is that okay?”

“Sure.”

“Great. Thanks!” He’s nonchalant as he walks up to the kitchen island, greeting Mrs. Chae and moving quickly through his iced americano. 

He leans against the counter, scrolling down his phone, not a care in the world. A particular sip has him choking on his coffee and he coughs a little. Inside, you smile. And yes, that’s not the proudest you’ve been of a feeling but can you be blamed? He doesn’t look like his coffee splashed all over his kitchen counter this morning because he couldn’t stop thinking about how he confessed his love to you and you didn’t say it back. Matter of fact, not saying it back is the least of your concerns. He didn’t say anything! No reaction, nothing. You hope he chokes on his coffee again. It’s harmless, in your defense, most women would be hoping for bloodier, more treacherous things. He’s lucky you don’t- 

“‘Kay. Gotta go. Have a nice day, Mrs. Chae!” He walks over to you, taking Soori from your arms and showering her cheeks with kisses as he makes his way to the doorway. She’s getting better at the goodbye part of the mornings but Mondays are always tricky. 

“Have a nice day.” You smile, a bit forcibly. 

“Aw,” he frowns, pouting, and you think he almost gets it, but no. “You tired, baby? Mondays can be hard.”

You want to gasp. No, really, it takes all the strength in you not to gasp. “Yeah, slept horribly, actually.”

“Take it easy today. You two should take a nap in my bed.” You nod and agree and he hugs you after he passes Soori to you, pulling her in as well. It’s a little three-way-hug and it makes your heart feel a little comfort, even amidst the chaos. 

“You take it easy, too.” Your hand finds his and you squeeze, even if for a second. 

“Bye, baby.” He kisses you. “Bye, baby!” He kisses Soori. And off he goes. 

This is pretty much what your entire week looks like. Going to bed late, head swimming in thoughts. Waking up an hour before your alarm rings, head swimming in the said thoughts. Breakfast before Lucy is up, so you can leave right as she wakes up, because a part of you knows she’d know, and that you couldn’t handle it. Lucy cares. Lucy would ask you a thousand questions, or encourage you to talk about it, or she would simply wrap you up in a hug that would send tears to your eyes that would turn into full on sobs by the time she was done putting her loving on you. So you lie to her; tell her Jungkook needs to be at the office earlier this week, and she buys it, no questions asked. 

 You walk half of your commute, and then take the bus, mainly to kill time. On Wednesday you think you could probably just take the bus right away, be early, make up some excuse to Mrs. Chae and go up the stairs, to his bedroom. You could watch Soori for him as he gets ready, you could take him in as he prepares for the day, you could ask him to be five minutes late so he can kiss you silly and extinguish the fire of doubt that keeps growing thicker, taller flames inside your heart. But, could you? Could you do all that? Have you fallen into enough familiarity as to do that? You thought you had, now you’re not so sure. 

Spiraling. That’s what your week looks like. You meet him in the kitchen, bask in the peace Soori brings you the moment she wraps her arms around you (she’s a hugger now) and try to suppress the witty remarks that threaten to leave your mouth, fueled by sarcasm and anger, every time you speak to him. But most days, you’re just sad. So sad you have to fake a smile, or make a grand effort to hold a conversation. Not that you have many. Jungkook is busy, morning and night. Something about a new property they’re getting ready to acquire - a future addition to The West End Collection. Each day the stress and tiredness reflects on him more, his energy plummeting. He says something about timezones and having to reply to emails at three a.m. so you assume it’s an international transaction. Nonetheless, it’s all assumption, you guys barely talk. And you get it. Jungkook is a busy man – he owns hotels, for Christ’s Sake! – And under any other circumstance, his distance and your lack of communication combined wouldn’t worry you, it’d simply be that, circumstantial. But right now, all it does is fuel the overthinking and self-doubt.

But then it’s midday and you remember how he kissed you in the morning before he left, and your thoughts quieten. Instead, they’re replaced by that pink, fuzzy feeling that your body recognizes as him. The feeling that belongs to him and him only. And on the bus ride home you replay the way he kissed you goodbye, no one around you, and able to take his time. His hand resting on your cheek, his lips parting your mouth, the small sigh of relief that never fails to leave him whenever he deepens the kiss. This cloud of comfort the memories put you in inevitably land you back to square one, simply for the fact that they remind you of the one thing that presses on to your heart the most: you love him. 

~

By the time Friday rolls around, you’re so exhausted from the marathon taking place inside your head that the moment you make it home, aided by the quiet and solitude that falls into your apartment – courtesy of date night for Lucy and Jimin – your body starts to ache from exhaustion. 

You change into an old t-shirt and shorts, put your hair up in a bun and decide you will be treating yourself to take out. You get cozy, blanket tucked under you as Gilmore Girls – your comfort show – plays on the TV. Scrolling lazily through the food delivery apps, you ponder on what to eat. You want something that screams sad girl stays home because non-reciprocated love is too heavy of a burden to bear. Pizza, pasta, a burger. Maybe some ramen! Or a burrito, that never fails. Or perhaps just dessert. Perhaps that’s what you need. A shock to the body in the form of sugar. But amidst your indecision your lids fall heavy and you’re out cold before the clock can mark eight p.m. 

And you sleep. You sleep through the night, a deep, dreamless slumber that makes you pay for all the sleepless nights you put your body through. You barely move an inch throughout the night, Gilmore Girls serving as a soft lullaby in the background until Netflix gathers that you are not, as a matter of fact, still watching. You could probably sleep through the morning, and if you really tried, you could probably sleep through the afternoon if you cozied yourself up just right, but the universe has other plans. More like, Lucy and Jimin have other plans. In their defense, you are running late for book club. 

Their hushed little giggles as they enter the house is the first thing you hear in the depths of your subconscious as the noise attempts to stir you awake. But it’s to no avail. Your mind ignores it eventually after it goes on for a minute too long. The second attempt is their hushed chit chat that takes one too many pauses as it gets lost in the giggles and pecks they share in between. 

“Shhh. You’re gonna wake __ up!” It’s Jimin, your subconscious recognizes that much. 

“Hmm,” more giggles. “She should be in the shower right about now. She has book club, remember?”

“Shit, that’s true! Hey, we can fuck in the kitchen again?” 

“Jimin, oh my god. Shhh!”

You frown, but your mind refuses to fully wake up. 

It’s the wet noise from their kisses that finally do it, at a third triumphant attempt. You jolt awake, turning to the direction of the kitchen where you see the image that matches the dirty little noises they make. Lucy opens her eyes for a split second as Jimin presses her against the counter and she all but screams when she sees your head peeking from the sofa, hair a mess and a scowl painting your features. Jimin shrieks follow a second later. 

“Shh. Shhhh!” you say. “What time is it?”

“It’s 9:15!” Lucy yells, still startled. “What are you doing here? Are you feeling okay? You look… under the weather.”

“Yeah __ you look rough,” Jimin says. 

“Aren’t you two just sweet? I fell asleep on the couch,” you stumble as you make your way to your bedroom, still groggy from sleep. “Shit. I’m gonna be so late.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make you some coffee and a sandwich to-go,” Lucy says, peeking inside your bedroom. 

“Thank you, Lu. You’re the best.” You brush through your hair, incredulous as to how it got so messy through the night. 

“Of course,” she says, lingering in your doorframe. “But seriously __, are you doing alright? I’ve barely seen you this week.”

“Yeah. Yes. I’m fine. Long hours at work, that’s all.”

She smiles. “I’m gonna tell Jungkook not to work you too hard when I see him today.” You look at her, confusion lacing your features. “Dae’s birthday party, remember?”

“Oh, shit. That’s today. I totally forgot.” 

Now it’s Lucy’s turn to look confused. And rightfully so. I mean, what would warrant a reaction like the one you just had? You love Dae. And she knows that any excuse to see Jungkook puts a giddy, little smile on your face, like a teenage girl. She calls it the puppy love stage, and is convinced you’re deep into it. You can’t blame her. A week ago you would have agreed. But today you were hoping you could avoid all thoughts of him. Come up with some excuse, tell him you’re feeling a bit under the weather and that you’d take the weekend to recover. But your plans of drowning your feelings in pizza, ice cream and Gilmore Girls (not necessarily in that order) just tumbled to the ground. You do, in fact, love Dae and wouldn’t miss his birthday party for the world. 

“I’ll just be a little late,” you smile, disguising your thoughts. “So, you know, I can come back and shower, seeing as I won’t have time to do that.”

You’re not entirely sure she buys it, but she offers you a smile and heads to the kitchen to make you breakfast. That act alone makes you want to cry. 

It’s gonna be a long day. 

~

It’s a beautiful, sunny day. Perfect for a pool party. Mai had hired a very capable catering company that was in charge of feeding both the adults and the kids at Dae’s birthday party, but Taehyung had gotten a new grill and he could find no better day to break it in than today. And even though she insisted, it was to no avail. They were grilling – the finest cuts of steak, at that – and opening the nicest bottles of wine. His first born was turning five and they had a second one on the way! He takes a minute to take it all in, sighing in pure, blissful satisfaction. There was only one person whose grilling skills could come close to his, and he knows that much because he taught him. 

“What a good day, isn’t it, Jungkookie?”

Jungkook nods, taking a sip of his red wine as his eyes scan the scene before him. Kids running around everywhere, scattered all over Mai and Taehyung’s garden. A huge bouncy castle with a water slide happened to be the main entertainment of the day, making him question how he was going to top it up with his Iron Man act. His friends all gathered to celebrate Dae, whom he loved and couldn’t believe was turning five. He also couldn’t believe he was still a bachelor when he was born, not envious of his friend’s new lifestyle, and now… well, look at him now! His eyes scan the place for Soori, who’s in Kenny’s lap as her cousins play around her. She smiles and claps, eyes wide as she kicks and screams in joy and he can’t believe she’ll be able to keep up with them soon. 

“Can you believe we’re dads?”

“In awe of it every day, actually. Can you believe we’re actually good at it?” Taehyung looks at Jungkook, who’s deep in thought. 

“No. Takes me by surprise every day,” he says, and Taehyung likes the way Jungkook gives himself credit, despite it all. 

“Can you believe Jimin is well on his way to settle down?” Taehyung says, gaze diverting forward. Jungkook follows his line of vision and understands exactly what he’s talking about. There they are, Jimin and Lucy. 

“About time.” And he’s only half joking, but the truth is, Jungkook hadn’t seen his friend this happy in years, and he’s got Lucy to thank for that. They all do. 

“Aw, imagine how cute their babies will look like,” Taehyung says, earning himself a frown from Jungkook.

“Keep your baby fever in your pants, please.”

“Oh, if only you knew.”

Jungkook looks at him and it takes him all but a second to know what he’s talking about. 

“Really?” Taehyung just shrugs, but he smiles bright and big, and his happiness is contagious. “Bro, seriously. You have to learn to shut your mouth. Mai is gonna kill you! Again!” and of course, Jungkook is alluding to the very first secret Taehyung couldn’t keep from his best friend. That first secret is turning five today. 

“Don’t tell her I told you, bro.” He sounds like a child, and Jungkook can’t believe he’s officially a dad of two. 

“Oh, I so will.”

“Fucking traitor.” He says. 

“Hey, congratulations. I’m so happy for you guys.” 

Taehyung brings him in for a hug and it ends as quickly as it begins. “Shh, sh. She’s looking this way, act cool.”

“A fucking child.” 

“You’re the child! I’m older than you by almost two-”

Jimin walks behind them, taking them by surprise when he throws his arms around their shoulders. “Children, please. Settle down.” 

Lucy giggles, rolling her eyes at her boyfriend’s goofy nature. She loves that about him. Matter of fact, she’d just told him, for the very first time, that she loved everything about him. That she loved him. This came after Jimin had blurted it out, in the middle of a very mild argument over the best Shrek movie. She loved him so much she’d decided to overlook the fact he said it was the fourth. Everyone knows it’s the second. 

“Funny. We were just talking about you.” Taehyung says. 

“Nothing but compliments and praises, I’d imagine!” He says. His friends both shrug at the same time, earning themselves a scowl from him. 

Jungkook turns to Lucy, smiling at her before asking, “Hey, have you heard from __? She told me she’d be here.”

“Oh, she overslept this morning, didn’t even have time to shower. So she just went home to freshen up before the party.” Lucy replies, finding it a bit odd that he isn’t aware of your whereabouts. 

“Ah,” he ponders on this for a minute. “I see.”

“I’m sure she’ll be here soon.” Her smile is kind, almost like she knows. And oh, she knows. Only she can’t put her finger on it entirely. She knows something’s mildly off, but everything seemed fine at surface level. Ultimately, she didn’t want to pry – knew that often her overthinking led her to worry for no reason – but also, her gut was almost never wrong. 

Jimin’s voice brings her back from her mental gymnastics. 

“Babe, let’s go get our bathing suits on! I’m so going on that bouncy castle.” 

“Please don’t do anything stupid. And don’t break the bouncy castle, the deposit on it alone was more than your Saint Laurent boots.” Taehyung tells him, nonchalantly, back at work on the grill. 

“Bro, it’s like, 30 degrees outside. Take those off.” Jungkook adds. 

“Do not address me, flip flop man.” 

Taehyung’s head snaps. “Hey, what’s wrong with flip flops?”

Jimin scans him from head to toe, stopping at his feet. “Everything.” And like that, he’s gone. 

Taehyung and Jungkook return to grilling duties, diligently at work and in total silence for a couple of minutes, so as to recover from Jimin’s brutal abuse towards their choice of shoewear. 

It’s Taehyung that breaks the silence first. 

“So… you and __, seems like it’s getting pretty serious, huh? Plus, you’re happy. I can tell. We all can, to be fair.”

He laughs, and when he does, it has a bite to it Taehyung wasn’t expecting. “So, I get laid and it shows?”

Jungkook doesn’t mean it. Not the words he uttered, or the edge that laces his voice. Not even the breath he took right before he spewed their venom. He regrets it the moment they leave him. 

Taehyung winces. “What the hell was that, man?”

“What exactly?”

“I’d like to believe you’ve passed the point of just fucking ___.” Taehyung can’t even call you the nanny anymore, his words faltering for a second before saying your name. 

Jungkook chuckles, and again, he doesn’t mean it. His friend can tell, which concerns him more. He wouldn’t press if he didn’t know he was lying through his teeth, lacing it with fire just to reinforce a point he didn’t believe himself. 

“So, when she stays the night, what exactly do you think we do?”

Taehyung shakes his head and it’s him who’s chuckling this time. “You’re such a pussy.”

Jungkook’s head snaps fast, an immediate frown taking over his features. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it fucking means. You’re a pussy. Love looks you right in the eyes and you fall into the most cliché tale of fearing it so much it makes you, quite frankly, an asshole.” Jungkook winces at the word love, though Taehyung doesn’t notice – heavily invested in shaking some sense into him. 

“I’m not going to sit here and pretend what it feels like,” he continues, voice taking on a softer tone. “To lose something so abruptly that it makes you feel like everything that follows will hold the same fate. You didn’t have a choice – when you gathered all that strength and courage for Soori, you didn’t have a choice. You gave her love when life was throwing the opposite your way, that was brave. Do the same for yourself. That same courage, choose it.” He throws a punch at his chest, right where his heart is – it’s not forceful but it makes the youngest tumble backwards slightly.

Jungkook stares at his friend, his heart taking on a wave of feelings that pass him by too quickly for him to grasp, let alone process. It’s anger first, sadness following, and when it crashes, they land in fear. Square one, too weak to say much, he just stares at Taehyung – his expression dumbfounded but above all, pained. 

For a second, as Taehyung stares into his eyes, he sees a wide-eyed twenty-year-old Jungkook. Puffy cheeks and cherry hair, a heartthrob to everyone’s knowledge but his own, making him all that more charming. Jungkook tries to find words – anything to form a shield, to dismiss his friend’s words and take the easy route out of this conversation, this feeling, you. But in an instant, he’s reminded of how hard “easy” can be. How much pain comes with the strain of fighting and how the other side of that pain can be almost sweet – vulnerability. 

The words that follow make Taehyung feel nostalgic. 

“I talked to my dad – well, more like- he talked to me.” Taehyung nods, already knowing where this is going. “He knows. About __.”

“Okay… and what seems to be the problem?”

“In his eyes, everything. It almost felt like he was putting some sort of blame on me, for everything that happened with Ira. How it affected our family,” Jungkook pauses, the word family leaving his lips in a tremble. “They think she’s going to cause the same societal hysteria – if not worse. The CEO dating the nanny.” He huffs, shaking his head in disbelief and even though he laughs, it lacks humor. 

Taehyung’s one for big words but quite frankly, what he says next is the most accurate answer he can find, looking at his friend in the eyes as he says, “So?”

Jungkook looks at him, hesitating for a moment. “What do you mean so?”

“I don’t believe for a second that you just took his opinion and went with it. I don’t believe for a second you just agreed with him. Not even to get him to stop talking. I know you better than that.”

“I didn’t.”

“Exactly. So, what seems so be the problem, because your parents trying to discipline the twenty-eight-year-old? I’m not buying it.” Jungkook holds his gaze for a second before it drops to the floor, shoulders dropping in defeat as a sigh follows. “Life gets hard and the way things come to be, the circumstances we face, yeah – those are hard. But never loving. Loving is easy. That’s why it’s worth it.” 

Jungkook’s about to tell him that a week ago, you told him you loved him, and that he didn’t quite know if you meant it. He’s about to tell him that he didn’t say it back – that fear got the best of him. That all the possibilities of everything that could go wrong presented themselves to him like a movie. Frame by frame, so vividly that it physically pained him, making his body grow rigid and cold. He’s about to tell him that the biggest fear of it all was the possibility of you leaving, just like Ira did. But it’s right in that moment that he hears Soori’s shriek. It startles him at first, he thinks something must’ve happened to her, that she’s hurt, or perhaps just fuzzy and needs him. He drops the tongs he’s holding and is ready to run over to her. And then he sees you, fully stopping in his tracks when he realizes she’s perfectly fine – she was just excited to see you. 

Kenny hands her over and you take her into your arms, rocking her from side to side as you hug her to you. You feather kisses all over her face but she barely lets you, too excited and jumpy in your hold. She points at the red balloons that adorn the garden and you go wide eyed in excitement. Dae runs over to you and you kneel down, Soori still in your arms, and bring him in for a hug. He tells you things that Jungkook can’t make out from a distance but he, too, is going wide eyed in excitement. You motion to a box that sits by the sofa, neatly gift wrapped in Iron Man print. He claps and jumps and takes you by the hand, walking you to the table that holds all his birthday gifts. It’s only after you’ve helped him place your gift at the very top – as per his request – that your gaze finally meets Jungkook’s. 

You look beautiful, and when you smile at him he can feel his heart physically stop for a beat too long. Your long hair dances in the wind, and some gets tangled in Soori’s fingers. Even she looks at you in awe. You’re wearing a sage green summer dress that hugs your body in all the right places and then just flares out, accentuating that contrast you naturally hold. Very sweet but so very woman. 

He could stare at you for hours. 

And for his despair, for the most time, he does. 

~

You do a great job at seamlessly avoiding Jungkook. 

Now, it’s not that you want to avoid him. It’s more so that you don’t know how to face him. You’re afraid that anything he says or does could trigger a response inside of you that you won’t be able to control. Perhaps you’ll cry, or snap at him. Perhaps you’ll go completely mute. At this point, you don’t know. You tell yourself this is the price you pay for leaving a feeling untreated. But what could you do if the treatment to your feelings is standing at 5 foot 10 in total oblivion?

That much you know. Jungkook is oblivious as to how you really feel. And you can’t fully blame him for this because a. You’re the one that said he didn’t have to say anything in return and, b. Oblivion makes him look so small in your eyes. I mean, you’re out here sitting with your female rage, plotting his revenge, laughing a little too hard when he steps on a lego – in full Iron Man costume, may you add – and he just doesn’t get it. He doesn’t know. Because if he knew, he wouldn’t be stealing glances your way. Or letting his hand linger a little too close to yours when you stand next to him as Dae and his friends tell you what they’re reading in school. Or when you pass Soori to him, your arms getting tangled together. Or when you both reach for the same cupcake, the same glass of wine, the same deviled egg! He lingers like you often do when you’re in public and have to be kept a secret. When touch and proximity are scarce and you have to milk every touch, every word, every glance. 

In Jungkook’s eyes, your distance is simply discretion, because for Jungkook, your words were a heat of the moment thing. A testimony of how good you two had made each other feel. I mean, despite the way your words affected him and welcomed a new set of fears he wasn’t quite planning on having with you, he let you get away with it. He felt, in a way, that he was doing you a favor. I mean, you did sound embarrassed and almost avoidant when you said it. So why press on it? Why put the two of you through the stress of having to navigate your feelings? All of this made total sense to him when he woke up Sunday morning and decided to not give his mental chaos another thought. Why would he, when he could just enjoy you instead? 

Despite said female rage, the day turns out to be magical. Dae’s charmed by all the love he receives and even takes a power nap halfway through it all because he’s so exhausted from fun and play. But once he’s up, he’s unstoppable again. Running, swimming, singing and dancing, his fifth birthday party is a success. And now, with sun kissed noses and sugar rushes, his friends begin to say goodbye one by one. This is your queue, you think, and you walk over to Mai to thank her for having you. 

“What? No! Don’t leave now. The party’s just getting started. For us, at least,” she winks at you, motioning to the glass of wine she holds. It’s apple juice, only you don’t know this. 

“Uh,” you can’t come up with any excuses. 

“Plus! Don’t you wanna stay to see Dae opening his presents? It’s my favorite part of the day.” 

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude-” you know that for Soori’s birthday at least, that moment happened after all the guests had left, and it was just their close group of friends. You feel out of place.

“Nonsense. He wants you here. We all do. I do,” she grabs your hand in hers and you give her a little nod before she’s dragging you back to the party. 

You enjoy yourself more than you’d expected. In between conversations, left over finger food and really good wine, the evening passed you by. You enjoyed getting to know everyone better and found particular joy in seeing them in this dynamic they seemed to be very familiar with. Of course, this was all accredited to the years they’d spent together. You couldn’t help but find it quite amazing; the fact that the majority of them had known each other since high school, all through college and adulthood. Parenthood, too, for some of them. Every act of service, word spoken and inside joke was laced with something that words couldn’t quite describe, but if you were to try, you’d label it as family. Simple as that. They were family. Seeing how quickly Lucy was weaving her way into their friendship group made you feel so happy for her. And it was in that instant that something told you that she’d stay forever. Not a doubt of it. She belonged – here, with Jimin, surrounded by love and family. She just belonged. 

Dae opened his presents and each reaction was better than the last. He was in a total high and the only thing that made winding him down for bed easier was Mai telling him that the faster he went to bed, the quicker he’d wake up to a room full of brand new presents he could play with all day long, if he so pleased. That and the fact that his cousins were staying the night and by the time Taehyung was done scattering his room with sleeping bags for the kids, the place looked like a campsite. 

And so the night was drawing to an end as you all sat by the lounge area in Mai and Taehyung’s backyard. Music playing softly from the speakers, the half eaten Iron Man cake on the table and a string of memories recalled by each of them as they reminisced. 

“Time flies,” Namjoon says. 

“I can’t believe you were the first one to have a kid.” Yoongi tells him. 

Hobi wraps his arm around Kenny, bringing her closer before he says, “how could you not? He’s always been very daddy.” They all laugh at his choice of words. “I didn’t mean it like that. Filthy minded, the lot of you.”

“I thought it’d be Jin,” Yoongi defends. 

“Nah. I always knew it was gonna be Namjoon. You left us too soon, bro.” Jungkook says, wrapping an arm around him and pouting. 

“Excuse me?” Iseul gasps, scowling at him from the warmth of Namjoon’s embrace, at the other side of him. 

Jungkook smiles at her cheekily, pout growing even more. “I love you. You know that. Matter of fact, you left us too son, bro.” He says this to Iseul. 

“Exactly. I was fun,” she says, crossing her arms as she falls back into the couch. 

“You still are! We all still are!” Seulgi says, raising her glass. They all join, and you laugh as you hear them add commentary like, “yeah, but at what cost?”, “I have chronic back pain.” and, “I fell asleep five minutes into a movie last night.” 

“God, I haven’t even been inside a club in years. What’s good nowadays? __? Lucy?” Jin asks. 

You both look at each other, not very familiar with the clubbing scene anymore. 

“Candied Star,” says Jimin, voice going low. 

“Shame on you, bro.” Yoongi tells him. 

“What the fuck is Candied Star?” Asks Hobi. 

“It’s a club!”

“It sounds like the name of a very blonde, very busty 90s pornstar.” Says Mai and they all laugh. 

“I actually used to love that place. It’s pink and excessive. And the DJ’s solid.” You say. 

Jimin claps once, body jolting, having a full eureka moment. “We’re totally going tonight. Saturday’s are the best nights!” 

“I’m so in. Taehyung’s fancy wine made me drunk, it’d be a waste to just go home.” Lucy adds. 

“You’re welcome, kid.” Taehyung raises his glass in her direction. 

“You coming, __?” Jimin asks you. 

You can’t fight it when your eyes land on Jungkook. His are on you already and again, you both linger in held glances for a second too long. You know he can’t go as he has Soori tonight. And you know your female rage wants to keep at a distance from him, so this is the perfect escape plan. But your heart takes one look at him and you want no more than to go back home with him. Have him all to yourself, crawl under a blanket with him and just hug him to you in a way that says, “I’ve been wanting to do this all week.”

“I’m in!”

And that’s the thing about untreated feelings: they rebel against you, even if the heart is waving white flags. 

~

See, you might not be one for crowded spaces and shitty music. You might be an Elton John fanatic, technology denier, gardening grandma attire wearer old soul. This might all be true, yes. But right next to that truth coexists a side of you that simply can’t help but love the fact that you’re twenty three. You’re twenty three and that means that on a saturday night, your responsibilities are at the bottom of the pyramid. You’re twenty three and there’s something about tonight that exacerbates the fact that you’re young and can allow yourself to be a little stupid. 

Candied Star is exactly what you described it as: pink and excessive. You hadn’t been here in months and perhaps that’s what makes it all the more alluring. You swiftly make it inside, courtesy of Jimin, who has a certain power over every bouncer and PR in the city. You could get used to the VIP treatment, if you were to confess. The line was going down a mile and you could see it from the taxi as you made your way to the club. The music is good from the get go and nothing about the atmosphere feels menacing or intimidating. Candied Star is for the cool kids. And what you mean by that is, Candied Star is for the girls, the gays and the allies. Nothing about this place caters to the male gaze and in a way, it’s so freeing. 

The moment you step foot inside you begin to let loose, and it’s not too long after that you’re being found by a troop of beautifying fairy godmothers that circle around the three of you, bedazzling your faces until the strobes inside the club hit you and you’re drenched in glitter and sparkling. The music aids the cinematic feeling of the night and when Jimin hands you a drink, it’s pink and shiny and you don’t know why but it just makes sense that it is. “It’s strawberry gin,” he says and you all bring your glasses together and cheer for a cause you’re not aware of but that demands celebration as you scream and sing and dance. 

By your third sparkly, strawberry gin, you’re the life of the party. 

No, really. You are. 

“I didn’t know __ had that in her!” Jimin says to Lucy, who admires you in awe. 

“Oh, but she does,” she yells over the loud music. 

The same people that put beads and glitter on your face are the ones that encourage you to get on top of one of the tables and give it your all. You’re not much of a dancer but in that moment, something in you releases in screaming color. Maybe it’s the song that plays that you vow to never forget. Maybe it’s the smiling faces that surround you and cheer you on. Perhaps it’s finding Jimin and Lucy in the crowd, smiling at you. You beckon them over and it takes them a while to get the hint but when they do, the crowd is parting for them and they’re being cheered on. You help them get on the stage – yes, a table, but it’s your stage – and you dance. You dance and sing and yell words to songs you didn’t even know you knew, or that maybe you thought you’d forgotten. 

But how could you forget? How could you forget how young you once were? How could you forget how young you are now?

~

Jungkook rocks Soori from side to side, bottle in hand as she begins to drift off in between suckles. The way she fights sleep to keep eating makes him giggle and when he does, her eyes snap open once again, seemingly more alert than the last time. 

“Shh, shh… sorry, baby. Sleep,” he whispers and his voice soothes her as he feels her little body relax in his arms. 

Night feeds are a rare occurrence nowadays but today was an exception. She’d had a fun day outside of her routine and the moment Jungkook had parked the car on his driveway, she’d woken up, more alert than ever. So here they were, in the middle of her nursery as Jungkook added a little bounce to his step the closer she got to finishing her bottle; the rhythm he’d mastered and could confirm worked like a magic trick to put her out cold and fast. 

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying this moment. She was growing way too fast before his eyes and these moments reminded him of when she was a little baby. When she depended on him way more than she does now. When she couldn’t crawl, let alone be so close to walking as she was now. Her eyes open yet again and he looks at her, smiling. She smiles back and he starts humming a soft melody in hopes of putting her to sleep. It has no rhyme or direction and he tries to think of something. He sings to her, and it’s a song he’s heard you sing to her, too. 

Jesus freaks out in the street

Handing tickets out for God

Turning back, she just laughs

The boulevard is not that bad

Piano man, he makes his stand

In the auditorium

Looking on, she sings the songs

The words she knows, the tune she hums

She finishes her bottle, eyes blinking once, twice, before her long eyelashes meet her cheeks. She nuzzles her face closer to Jungkook’s chest and his heart breaks and mends all in the span of a second. He sings softer this time.

But, oh, how it feels so real

Lying here with no one near

Only you, and you can hear me

When I say softly, slowly

Hold me closer, tiny dancer

Count the headlights on the highway

Lay me down in sheets of linen

You had a busy day today

Hold me closer, tiny dancer

Count the headlights on the highway

Lay me down in sheets of linen

You had a busy day today

Soori falls into deep sleep and Jungkook holds her. He lets himself have her in his arms for a little longer. He thinks of all the parenting books he’s read in the past year or so, making himself chuckle as they would absolutely not approve of this. But he doesn’t care. He knows he’s doing the right thing. And perhaps he didn’t know this a couple of months back – a couple of months back he felt like he couldn’t get anything right – but now, looking down at her, he feels confident. He knows he’s doing the right thing because Soori? Soori is perfect. Soori is the best thing he’s ever been good at. Soori is his biggest and most exciting project. And as she sleeps soundly in his arms, it hits him. He’s doing a good job. 

He sings the same song to her two, three… four times. On and on. And at some point, the words start catching up to him in memories of you. He doesn’t want to sulk. He knows you should, as a matter of fact, be out there, having fun with your friends and dancing the night away at some club with a questionable name. But he can’t help but miss you. He thinks of you, because lately, every corner of his house reminds him of you. And yes, it aids his sulking but it’s also nice to just picture you everywhere. He thinks of you rocking on Soori’s chair, watching them, you’d probably be singing along with him. Or perhaps you’d be in his room, waiting for him on his bed, a book in hand, because you always carry one in your bag. 

He laughs as he remembers a conversation you’d had with Lucy right before you left for the club. 

“Wait, I’m not very dressed for the club…,” you say. 

Lucy looks at you, huffing. “You’re never dressed for the club.”

“No, Lu, seriously. I have a copy of Sense and Sensibility in my bag right now.”

“I guess Jane Austen is coming to Candied Star, then!”

And it was so you. Jungkook had never read Jane Austen, but the title alone was so very you. 

Finally, he’s putting Soori in her crib, making sure she has all her friends around in case she wakes up through the night and double checking the baby monitor before he’s gently closing the door of her nursery after he takes one last glance at her. He can’t see much, just one of her cheeks pressed against the mattress from between the wooden bars of her crib. He laughs softly, nose scrunching in endearment. 

He walks inside his room, retrieving his phone from his back pocket and throwing it on his bed. He’s about to turn around but he deflects, reaching back for his phone. He’s got a couple of notifications adorning his home screen – Mai had sent pictures from today to their group chat, his mom had texted him saying they needed to talk and he had a couple of work emails he did not want to get into right now – but none from you. Jungkook sighs, throwing his phone on his bed once again and making his way to the bathroom. 

He showers, taking his time to take the day off. Standing in front of the massage jets for a long time and in days like these, time felt like a luxury. He washes his hair, his body, lets the water run down on him. He takes his time and once he’s done, he walks over to his bed, tapping on his phone in quiet hopes that he’ll see your name on his screen. Nothing. He grabs the device to put it to charge but he changes his mind halfway through, bringing it with him to the bathroom. 

He brushes his teeth, washes his face, does his skincare. A notification pops up. It’s from The New York Times. He rolls his eyes, staring at the screen until it goes blank. He tells himself not to act so childish. He brushes his hair, applies three different products he doesn’t quite know the purpose of. He taps on his phone again, even though he knows he’s not going to find anything new. And he doesn’t. 

He doesn’t and he shouldn’t. 

Jungkook doesn’t want to pry you away from the fact that you’re twenty three years old, and that you should be doing exactly what a twenty three year old should be doing on a saturday night. God knows nobody stopped him, so he doesn’t want to stop you. But he’d be lying if he said that when Jimin invited you to the club, his blood went a little warm. Not fully hot, no. But a little warm. He wanted the night to wrap up so he could approach you and ask to give you a ride. No one would suspect, I mean, he was just doing you a favor, as your boss. But the moment he got you alone in his car he planned to kiss you until you had no choice but to follow him home. And he’d hold you and stare at you and kiss you until it paid for how little he got to do it this past week. He missed you. And he can’t stop thinking about how beautiful you looked today. At how beautiful you probably look right now, dancing and smiling. Probably a bit tipsy by now because he knows how much of a lightweight you were.

He gets in bed, attempting to get comfortable under the covers. He turns the TV on, plays the cooking channel, dims the lights, then turns them off. He puts his phone on Do Not Disturb but then chooses against it, just in case. Just in case you called him, giddy and with slow, slightly slurred sentences like you had that one time. And if that were to be the case, he’d ask you to come over. He’d feed you carbs, get you in the shower, in his bed. And then tomorrow he’d wake up next to you and- he stops himself. Because if he lets his mind go any further, he’s gonna be the one calling you. And asking you to come over – begging for it if need be. 

But even in his rationality, he hopes. Fighting sleep, just in case. 

You never call. 

~

“Pretty,” you say. Because it is. The city, the lights, even as they pass you by faster than you’d like. Your head is out the window, merciless wind hitting your face as the car picked up speed, making your hair dance behind you and your eyes water, smudging the glitter that adorned your cheeks. 

“It certainly is, but hey, __, maybe get back in here?” Lucy tries to reason with you, but it’s to no avail because your arm joins your head and the way the air feels like a heavy mass attempting to go through you is almost hypnotizing. 

Jimin peeks from his seat next to the other window. He giggles when he sees you mid trance. “Is her seatbelt on?”

“Yeah,” Lucy says as she tries to pull you back in. 

“Leave her be, babe. She’s having a cinematic moment.” 

“I’m scared she’s gonna want to jump out or something.”

Jimin laughs at this. “She won’t. Come here.” 

And so Lucy does, stealing glances your way from time to time to make sure you’re doing okay and won’t do anything crazy like fly out the window. 

That’s not what you want, though. You’re simply admiring the view. It feels so good. It feels so good to forget about what pains you for a night. It feels so good to not think about him, even though this thought alone requires you to think about him. You chuckle. Who cares? You’re not thinking about him, even if you are. Your drunken state tells your brain that you’re free of the Jungkook chaos you’ve been in for what feels like way too long. And when your heart tries to meddle, telling you not to be such a fool and reminding you that a week ago you poured your heart out to him, told him the biggest, most important words – the ones you searched for the most in your love stories – right around this time. Who cares? Who cares, you keep reminding your heart, demanding it to let it go, even if just for tonight. 

“We can cry tomorrow,” your voice is but a whisper that gets muffled by the wind, one that only you can hear. “Who cares tonight? Who cares, who cares, who cares…”

You can hear the beginning chords of a melody that you think you recognize coming from inside the car, but you can’t quite put your finger on it. It comes to you slowly though, and when you almost have it, you look behind you and see Jimin and Lucy singing along to the beat of the song. And then it hits you. Your body is inside of the car and you lean forward, hand on the driver’s shoulder.

“Oh my God,” you say to him, “you’re speaking to my soul! And I don’t know if I like it. Turn it up.” He smiles, chuckling at your words before his hand reaches for the console, the song resounding all through the car. 

You lean back on the seat, looking at Lucy before linking your arm with hers. The three of you sing, loud and drunk and happy. 

You can kiss a hundred boys in bars

Shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling

You can say it's just the way you are

Make a new excuse, another stupid reason

Good luck, babe (well, good luck), well, good luck, babe (well, good luck)

You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling

Good luck, babe (well, good luck), well, good luck, babe (well, good luck)

You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling

~

Your head pounds and at first, you don’t understand why. But it pounds so hard it snaps you back into consciousness. Once you are relatively awake you understand why. Not only are you deadly hungover but you’re also in the middle of what you can only describe as chaos. Your window is wide open and there must be a traffic jam going on outside because cars are honking left and right. Elton’s halfway through Tiny Dancer because clearly the first minute of that didn’t do its job at waking you up, and there’s a knock at your door. 

“Come in,” you say, as you switch off your alarm and try to drown out the outside noises by putting a pillow over your head. 

“Good morning, lover.” Lucy enters your room, and when you glance at her from an inch left uncovered by your pillow, you see she’s holding a tray. Iced americano, avocado toast and a sunny side up egg that smells delectable are just a couple of things that make her the best friend in the whole world this morning. The second one is the fact that she’s closing your window and suddenly, it’s peace, quiet and a feast in your room. 

“I’ve done nothing to deserve you.”

“You’ve done plenty.” She smiles and it’s sweet, just like every inch of her. 

“Good morning, dancing queen.” Jimin waltz inside your room, shirtless and with Lucy’s cow print fuzzy headband on his head. 

“I shouldn’t have to see this first thing in the morning, but it’s the price I pay for dancing on top of tables like God did not intend.” 

“Oh, no. I think God was in that room last night.”

“Babe,” Lucy whines. “Leave her alone!”

“Why? It was fun! You’re fun, __. You should come out with us more often, they gave us a bunch of free drinks just because we knew you!” 

You throw your pillow at him and he shrieks and runs away. Both you and Lucy laugh at his theatrics. 

“1 to 10 how much did I embarrass myself last night?” You ask as she hands you your pillow back and you return it to its rightful place over your head. 

“Like, minus 0. You genuinely were the life of the party. All you did was dance and drag everyone along!” 

“I’ll believe you. Thank you for breakfast, Lu.”

“Of course,” she smiles. “Hey, Jimin and I are going to his parent’s beach house for the week. We leave today.” She almost looks apologetic when she says it.

“That sounds so nice, Lu.”

“Yeah,” she says, and her voice takes on the tone she uses when something floats above her head in worry. 

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I am. But,” she pauses for a second, looking into your eyes. “Are you?”

“Me?” You ask, incredulous and you can see it in her face – how little she buys your act. “I’m fine, Lu. Just tired. It’s been a long week and honestly I probably just need some rest. I’ll try and take loads of naps today.”

She just stares at you for a couple of seconds, deciding your fate. Will she let it slide? Will she press? Will she give you the words of comfort you’re so very sure could make you cry right now and dismantle your lies? 

“You should try and get as much rest as you can.” And the only reason she says that is because they’re running late. 

“And you have fun,” you hug her. “Don’t worry about me, seriously. I’ll rest loads and probably clean around, do some laundry, maybe get some writing done. Ooh, I could meal prep for the week!”

~

You lose a sock on your way to the living room from the kitchen. It makes you stop in your tracks as you glance back and try to see where you’d left it. But it’s nowhere to be found. Oh, well. You shake the can of whipped cream you’d retrieved from the fridge, the cherry on top the most perfect Ben & Jerry’s flavor that has ever existed – chocolate fudge brownie, of course. Your mouth waters at the mere thought and you can’t resist the temptation of having whipped cream at such close proximity and so you swirl a hefty amount inside of your mouth. In perfect cinematic nature, the song that you’ve had on repeat for the past forty five minutes breaks into the chorus (yet again) and now the whipped cream can is your microphone and this living room is your stage. 

You said, "Baby, no attachment"

Your voice is hoarse, the remnants of yesterday’s fun and today’s chaos. 

But we're

You trip on an iPhone charger and it almost sends you flying. But it doesn’t, so you take the opportunity of being jolted forward to add flair to your performance. 

Knee deep in the passenger seat and you're eating me out

Is it casual now?

Two weeks and your mom invites me to her house on Long Beach

Is it casual now?

I know what you tell your friends

It's casual, if it's casual now

Then baby, get me off again

If it's casual, it's casual now

You don’t realize you’re crying until the tears touch your lips, warm and salty and it only makes you sing louder because at this point, you’re just letting yourself go a little insane in the privacy of your own home and the solitude that has been granted to you this sunday morning. So you eat ice cream at 11 a.m. and listen to feminine rage songs. More like, one single feminine rage song. And the more you sing it, the sadder it gets. The girls aren’t enraged. The girls are just sad. 

I fucked you in the bathroom when we went to dinner

Your parents at the table, you wonder why I'm bitter

Your hands come up and you spin as you sing and cry. 

Bragging to your friends I get off when you hit it

I hate to tell the truth, but I'm sorry dude you didn't

I hate that I let this drag on so long, now I hate myself

I hate that I let this drag on so long, you can go to hell

The song ends and a second later, it starts again. You let it. Most of the lyrics don’t even apply fully to your situation and you can begin to recognize this as your steam is blown and you tire yourself out. And yeah, the lyrics may not all apply to you but some do and it feels good to scream them out loud and to get mad. 

You send a flying kiss to Chappell Roan and thank her for her services. 

~

“God, you’re such an asshole.” Your words are directed at Mr. Darcy, who’s been getting on your nerves for the past hour or so. “But you’re so beautiful. And I know deep down you’re a good man.” And it’s then that your eyes begin to well up yet again. Pride and Prejudice always gets to you. 

Your eyes leave the TV screen for a split second so you can draw your head back and take a bite out of your pizza. It’s delicious – cheesy and delicious, and just what you need. Dancing, singing and crying must burn more calories than you think because that was a workout and now you were exhausted and famished, even though you were halfway through your pizza already. 

“I mean, there you are! With your stupidly good looking face and your bad manners,” you point at Mr. Darcy on the screen. “And all because you can’t tell the girl you love her! Elizabeth, you deserve be-”

Halfway through your speech, you get interrupted by the insistent buzzing that comes from your phone. Your eyes scan the couch on the search for it but it’s nowhere to be found. You shove blankets and pillows aside and the more it buzzes, the more frantically you search. You find it under your pizza box right before it’s about to disconnect, quickly sliding your finger across the screen so you can answer the call, not having time to second glance at the contact. 

“Hello?!” You yell into the receiver. 

You hear Jungkook chuckle from the other end of the line and you quite literally choke on your spit, making you cough wide eyed and surprised. “Woah, woah. You okay?”

You hate that he cares. And you hate his little chuckles and how quickly he can disarm you because you feel the way your voice is about to go soft on him. You make sure to clear your throat (and shake the softness off) before replying.

“Yeah, yeah. I just have a bit of a sore throat.”

“So it was a good night, I presume.”

“Yeah, actually. The best.”

Your words are fast and sharp and Jungkook feels the sting. But nonetheless, he’s still oblivious. He blames the sting on his own childish ways of missing you too much even though he’d seen you every day this week. He blames it on the part of him that went to bed last night stubbornly wishing you’d be next to him. And so he opts to be bigger and better than his feelings, collecting himself before he responds.

“I’m glad, baby.” You’re quiet on the other end of the line. “Hey, so… we were just at brunch with my parents.”

“How’d it go?”

“Same old,” and it was true. It’d been awkward at first but then simply filled with small talk and the three of them swooning over Soori, to Jungkook’s fortune. “But I was thinking maybe I could pick you up and you could come over? We could lay by the pool, I could make us some dinner later…”

Your eyes scan the room. They land on the pizza box and then on Mr. Darcy on the TV, mid-sentence in what is probably useless words because none of them are what he actually feels. 

“I have a terrible hangover, being out by the sun would probably make it worse.”

“That’s ‘kay. We could watch movies instead.”

You sigh, your heart breaking at your coldness when you say, “I’ve had a long week, I think it’d be better if I just took it easy today and got some rest. I’m sorry.”

And as oblivious as Jungkook could be in the moment, no oblivion could stand between him and the way your words break something inside his heart in more ways than just disappointment. 

“Oh,” is all he can say. 

“But you guys have fun, okay? Give Soori kisses from me and enjoy the water. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Y-yeah. Yes. I’ll see you tomorrow, baby.” Jungkook wonders why the pet name he’s grown so familiar to calling you feels so foreign as they pass his lips now. “Bye.”

You linger. You wait, in silence, the soft static and words left unsaid. 

“Bye.”

I love you, I love you, I love you. I love you and I hate that you don’t love me back and I can’t do with hating that I love you and I could never do with hating you because I love you. 

When you fall asleep around thirty minutes later, it’s with heavy eyes and tears you’d been collecting ever since. You fall asleep before Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth can get their happy ending. 

~

Monday morning feels like hell. Getting out of bed feels nearly impossible and when you finally muster the strength to do so, you feel a headache coming up that threatens to linger for the whole day. You take some Tylenol, caffeinate yourself and eat whatever you can stomach. And since you hadn’t taken the time to make yourself an elaborate breakfast, you get fifteen extra minutes that you use to make yourself look better, in hopes that it helps you feel better. You take your time as you brush through your hair and get really close to the mirror as you apply your makeup, blending and dusting products on with more care than you have in years. You can feel the heat that takes on the day, despite it only being 7 a.m. and so when you stand in front of your closet you try to keep it light. You settle on a pink linen dress that’s a bit too short but still acceptable to go serve your duties as a nanny. And perhaps vanity could cure a broken heart because by the time you leave the house, your strut has a bit more of confidence to it and your mentality consists of more who cares rather than why me?

You settle on the bus seat, reaching for your book but there’s something about Sense and Sensibility you’re simply not in the mood for today. And so you put your headphones on and scroll through your playlists. You’re just a girl, so of course there’s a perfectly curated selection of songs for any occasion and so today’s choice is one titled so sad, so sexy. It’s feminine rage meets bad bitch anthems and your subconscious decides it’s this episode’s soundtrack. 

Mrs. Chae greets you at the door, like every morning, only today she smiles a little wider. 

“You look very pretty today, ___.”

You smile at her, asking her about her weekend as you make your way to the kitchen. You offer to make her some coffee as she gets Jungkook’s ready and it takes a little bit of insisting but she finally lets you treat her. As the minutes pass, though, you start feeling nervous. You hadn’t quite planned how you’d manage your feelings when you saw Jungkook this morning and every little noise has you jumpy and alert. You get Soori’s breakfast ready, cursing how quickly porridge cooks and your immaculate fruit chopping skills, because you’re done faster than you’d think and now you’re hands free and anxious again. 

“Mrs. Chae, let me help you fold laundry.”

“Fold laundry?!”

“Yes! I’m quite good at it. I worked at a little boutique all through my teenage years.”

“No.”

“Please. Just Soori’s at least.”

She looks at you intently for about five seconds, narrowing her eyes. “Her clothes are in the pink basket.”

You do a little cheer and thank her and she shakes her head at you but you can see the way she smiles. You get to folding her tiny clothes, cooing at how cute and tiny they are. You laugh at how her funny t-shirts that have kermit the Frog, Bluey and Wonder Pets prints get mixed with her nicer pieces that are full of tulle and fancy fabrics or are full on designer. But your favorites are the mini versions of Jungkook’s clothes that he always pairs with pink bows or colorful socks. It makes your heart melt. 

“Good morning,” Jungkook’s voice snaps you out of your trance. “Why are you folding laundry?”

“Don’t look at me, Mr. Jungkook,” Mrs. Chae defends, placing the tray that holds his iced americano on the kitchen island. 

“It relaxes me,” you say, arms reaching for Soori who falls straight into them. “Good morning, munchkin. You hungry?”

“I have to leave now. Emergency meeting at the office.”

“But your coffee,” you hate that you care, but you do. Not to mention that it already worries you that it’s all he has for breakfast. 

He doesn’t look up from his phone when he says, “At the office. Have a nice day, Mrs. Chae.”

You follow him as he makes his way to the door. You can tell he’s stressed just by being in his proximity and it almost reminds you of when you first started working for him, those very first cold and distant weeks. But when he turns around and takes Soori into his arms, he softens and grows mushy again. 

“I’ll see you tonight, baby. Be good for daddy, okay?” He kisses her cheeks. “You’ve recovered, I hope.” He says this to you. 

“Good as new.” You force a smile.

“I’m glad. I’m gonna be late again today, we’re hoping to close this deal this week and we’re in a time crunch. I’ve told Suelgi to pick Soori up in the afternoon-”

“What? Why?”

“Well, you stayed with her last week and-”

“Yeah, that’s my job. That’s what you pay me to do, remember? Also, it messes up with her routine so I’ll keep her and we’ll wait for you right here.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“___-” you don’t let him finish, fearing to fall into a conversation you can’t have right now. You grab the back of his head and bring him close to you until your lips are on his. You feel him relax against your touch and he deepens the kiss, even if for a brief second before you’re pulling away. 

“Have a good day. We’ll see you tonight.”

~

On Tuesday you keep your anxiety at bay by making Soori a really elaborate breakfast. And you’re speaking the whole ordeal. Eggs, cherry tomatoes that you cut up really small, all her favorite assortment of fruits (blueberries, strawberries and pears), avocado that you mash and season with salt, pepper and lemon juice. You even cut her toast in tiny hearts that adorn the corners of her plate. When Jungkook walks inside the kitchen that morning, you’re getting started on her meal prep for lunch. Cooking for Soori wasn’t really on your job description but you liked to be as involved as you could in her feeding and so you’d silently taken on the responsibility. She liked to watch you cook, clapped along as you played music and danced around the kitchen, giving her a show. 

You don’t hear him come in and Jungkook takes the time to let himself stare at you. Amidst the stress and exhaustion, you’re pure sunshine that creeps into his home each morning and for that he’s grateful. If yesterday you threatened to make him late for work, which he really couldn’t afford this week, today you’re making him wish he could throw all the contracts out the window and live in a world that rotated around your axis. He doesn’t know if it’s the way your lips are a tone redder today, or if it’s the way you have your hair up in a bun that somehow looks both disheveled and put together, thin strands of hair framing your face as you concentrate on the way your hands carefully peel the pear. You’re pouting, the way you often do when you’re focused on something and he thinks about how quickly he can get out of this kitchen so he can kiss you. You’re also wearing red, which is a color he doesn’t often see you sport but he makes a mental note to store it under favorites. Your dress is tight around your waist and then flairs out and he knows it’s short because the weather is hot and you know how to dress for it. Jungkook begins to feel hot, too. The straps are held by a bow that rests on top of your shoulders and one of them falls down your arm and he swears to himself this all just happened in slow motion. 

“Mr. Jungkook, good morning.” Mrs. Chae places the tray on the kitchen island with a little more force than she’d originally intended. This makes you jump and it takes Jungkook about a beat too long to come back to his senses. 

“Good morning,” he clears his throat when his voice falters. 

Oh, damn you, Jeon Jungkook in dress pants and a white shirt that hugs your body a little too nicely to be true. 

“Nana,” Soori shrieks, excited to see you as you walk over to them. 

“Hi baby, I missed you.” The moment your arms outstretch towards her, she’s falling into them. You look at Jungkook. “Hey.”

“Hey- how are you?”

“I’m good. Did you sleep well?”

“I did, thank you.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

Both Mrs. Chae and Soori stare at the two of you in confusion. 

“Nana,” this time she tries to get your attention, hitting you with her plush toy. You notice it’s shaped like a mille-feuille, courtesy of Lucy. 

“Is she- is that what she calls you?” Jungkook asks.

“I don’t know… it’s the first time she does it more than once in a row.”

“Cute,” he says, smiling. His face grows serious again when he sees Mrs. Chae smirking from the corner of her eye. 

“She’s cute. Want breakfast, baby?” And Jungkook is so entranced by you this morning he almost says yes. “We’ve got blueberries and strawberries and pears. Can you say pears?”

“Nana,” she smiles and is immediately forgiven. 

When you’re by the door saying goodbye, Jungkook’s about to kiss you, and there’s nothing in the world he wants more right this second. And as he leans in and mentally chants victory, his phone starts ringing. It’s Jin, and he knows it’s important. He should’ve taken his call ten minutes ago. His eyes close for a second, sighing in frustration before he picks up the phone. 

“Yeah, talk to me.”

You don’t mean to be so cruel, but alas, you smile. 

~

On Wednesday, it’s Jungkook who opens the door for you and by the looks of it, he’s on his way out, phone pressed to his ear as he steps aside to let you in. 

“Yeah, if you could please have those papers on my desk when I get there- yeah. Thank you, Kay. You’re the best.”

You roll your eyes, but it’s mentally. Inside your head so he can’t see. If you had a dollar for every time you’ve heard Jungkook say she’s the best you’d have two dollars, which is two dollars too many.

“Hey,” he says, eyes still on his phone as he reads what you can see is a really long email. 

“Good morning. What’s going on?”

“I have to run. Soori’s in the kitchen, she’s had a bit of a rough morning. She’s having a bottle right now.” He types as he tells you this. You want to shake him and tell him to look at you. 

“Is everything okay?”

His eyes meet yours. “Yeah, just- closing deals is hectic. That’s all. Everything okay with you?”

No.

“Yes.”

“Great.”

Great.

“Great!” 

“I’ll see you tonight?” 

“Sure.”

He presses his phone to his ear once again and turns around, walking towards his car, the loud beep startling you a bit as he unlocks it. You yell at him, mentally. Inside your head, so he can’t see. 

~

Soori was in fact having a rough morning, and her mood lingers throughout the day. She was a really good, happy baby so on bad days like these you knew something had to be bothering her. You’d found the root of the problem in the middle of a very dramatic cry, as her head swung backwards and her mouth opened to let out a loud wail. Her first back tooth was coming in. She was in pain, rightfully so, and nothing quite pleased her but you tried to do your best. She got extra cuddles and an extra morning nap. You’d made her strawberry juice lollipops so she could chew on for relief and mostly let her play throughout the day. She wanted to be held for the most part, though, and you had to admit you weren’t about to complain. You loved when she let you hold her and hug her and squeeze her. 

You’re halfway through a very softly sung version of Hey Jude when Jungkook calls you. It’s quarter past seven and you were winding down Soori for the night.

“Hi,” you say, voice a whisper so as to not wind her up. 

“Hey. How are you guys doing?”

“Good. She’s getting sleepy, she’ll be out in the next twenty or so. Her first molar is coming in, that’s why she’s fuzzy.”

“Oh, shit. Should’ve thought of that.”

“She’s doing okay now. She just needed extra cuddles.”

“I wish I could’ve been there today. Thank you, ___.”

“My pleasure. How’s your day? It’s late… are you coming home soon?”

And Jungkook knows you’re not asking for any other reason other than the fact you care about him. About his wellbeing and peace of mind. You took care of him in more ways than you probably realized because it just came as second nature to you, to be so caring. You, on the other hand, can’t help the way your heart plays onto the little fantasy. The one in which you wait for him to come home – a home of your own. He comes home to you after a long day and you sit on the couch and order take out and you make sure he has dinner because, to be fair, you’re not sure he does when you leave at night and the worry follows you until you get home even though you know that he can’t go hungry for more than twenty minutes. But you care, so you worry. 

Ugh!

“Yeah. I just have to go through,” he pauses, taking a look around him, “two more contracts. I’ll be there in about an hour or so.”

“I’ll give her a good night kiss from you.”

“Thank you, baby. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you,” and you hang up because if you don’t, you’ll fucking blurt those three words at him again, because in your little fantasy, it’s only natural. It’s only natural that you tell him you love him before you hang up the phone. 

God, life was playing tricky, tricky games on your heart. Ones that you were out of ideas on how to defeat. 

~

Soori had knocked out not too long after that. She’d been visibly exhausted from the discomfort and pain she’d carried all day and you could only hope tomorrow was better. You make a mental note to search up some toothing relief methods on your way home. You give her two forehead kisses before laying her down on her crib, placing her little mille-feuille plushie under her arm. 

You make your way to the kitchen, turning on every light that you pass because if you were to be honest, Jungkook’s house intimidated you a little bit during the night. It was just so big and spacious, wide hallways that felt never ending. You liked how quiet it was, though. A sense of peace filling you as you put the kettle on to make yourself a cup of tea. His selection was impressive and you wondered why. You don’t think you’d ever seen him drink tea… you wonder if this was one of the remaining bits of Ira that still lingered around the house. There weren’t many, but it was impossible to fully erase her. There was a mug in the cupboards with the letter I and right next to it, one with the letter J. Her white Mercedes Benz that still sat on the driveway, too. And even though she’d cleared her clothes from the closet, you’d once seen a pretty black dress that you could only assume had once belonged to her. 

You opt for a fancy looking ginger and lemon tea, taking your time to let the leafs brew in the hot water. Thinking of him, of her, of Soori. Of how much you’d weaved your way inside his home, his family, without the details of what landed you here in the first place. I mean, you know some of it, but not the whole story. And then again, how much of a story was there? Her departure had seemed final and abrupt and in your anger, you doubted her words and explanations truly mattered. 

You move through the kitchen, down the dining hall and into the living room at a slow pace, taking it all in. You try to remember if you’ve ever been here alone, when it’s so empty and quiet but you can’t place any memory of the sort. You walk over to the big, tall bookshelf that stood against the wall. It was mostly for decoration, you’d assumed – a bunch of color coordinated books that matched the aesthetic of the living space perfectly. You recognize some titles and some others seem old. Pages on art, architecture, travel and fashion. Your eyes land on one that doesn’t seem to have a name, the spine empty in smooth leather. You reach for it, its weight sitting heavy on your hands. It was big, too and it looked like it held something important. Something that you couldn’t find in a bookshop or library. You know you probably shouldn’t, but your curiosity gets the best of you. You sit on the sofa, tea cup long forgotten on the table, lifting the heavy cover to reveal a white page that held a handwritten note. 

To our Soori Blue,

Our darling girl, you are so very loved, and this is your story so far. This is where you come from and this is how you were loved from the very beginning, even before you were here. When you were but a little star waiting in the sky for your mommy and daddy to multiply the love they have for each other to make you. You’re born from love, Soori, and your parents are proof of that, because they love each other so very much. Waiting for you was hard because we couldn’t wait to hold you and getting to be your Godparents is one of our biggest blessings. You are so loved, you are so special and you will always have us. 

Love,

Auntie Mai and Uncle Taehyung

 You turn the page, a picture of Jungkook and Ira taking most of the frame. They’re pulling faces as they pose for the camera and behind them is the city skyline and a sunset that paints the sky pink and orange. She blows a kiss and Jungkook throws a peace sign as he winks. Under the picture, a caption in neat black font that reads, “this is from the day your mommy and daddy first met. Everyone says it was instant: how they fell in love. I bet they would’ve not believed it if they knew that only a couple of years later, you’d be here!” 

The next picture is a magazine cover, Ira gracing the page, her long, blonde hair dancing in the wind, eyes not fully meeting the camera as she smiles. She looks carefree and young, a beautiful blue dress adorning her body, making her blue eyes shine even from a distance. “This is your mommy. Isn’t she so beautiful? She’s smart, funny, kind and loved by many people around the world. But no one loves her the way we do!”

You turn the page, a picture of Jungkook standing in front of The West End, bright smile on his face. “This is your daddy. He’s really good at his job! He’s funny, cool and generous. He can’t stay still and he’s good at everything he does, first try! We love him a lot.”

Their relationship pans over the years as you leaf through the pages. Ira and Jungkook at the beach, in very many destinations around the world, on Christmas and holidays, with their families and friends, in the comfort of their home and in events and galas. The day they made their relationship official, accompanied by, “it was out of a fairytale!” and birthday celebrations that said, “your daddy spoils your mommy so very much, we’re kinda scared he’ll do the same with you!” as Ira poses in rooms filled with roses and balloons and boxes full of presents. 

You pay particular attention at a picture of Jungkook and Ira, a selfie that seems to have been taken on film. They’re in the kitchen, bright smiles and red, puffy eyes, like they’d been crying. “On this morning, your mommy and daddy found out about you! They were a little scared, but so very happy. You filled them with light, Soori. Just look at those smiles! They couldn’t wait to hold you – it was going to be nine long months!”

Then it’s all of them, out in the garden, Ira in the middle as they point to her stomach. “And on this day we found out about you! We were so happy!! We’d never seen your mommy and daddy so excited, you had a closet full of clothes already and they didn’t even know if you were a girl or a boy yet!”

Ira in an ultrasound, “your mommy and daddy were so happy to hear your heartbeat for the first time.”

Jungkook kissing her stomach, “deep down, your daddy always knew you were a girl. Your mommy was convinced you were a boy, though!”

Jungkook and Ira standing in the garden, pink confetti flying over them. “You’re a girl, Soori Blue!!!!”

The pictures progress with the passing of time, each one with a caption full of hope and love. A picture of Soori as a newborn representing her birth, a carbon copy of Jungkook that makes your heart seize inside your chest. Then pictures of her with her uncles and aunties, their families, Jungkook and Ira, who kiss her each on one cheek in the majority of them. You miss the way Ira smile changes, the way her gaze looks empty after a while. All you see is love, what Soori is truly made of. 

You blame your next thought on how overly emotional this past week has been, how tumultuously you’ve experienced every feeling. 

“There’s all types of love, but never the same love twice.”

You wonder if that had been it for Jungkook. If he would ever be able to experience the love he had for Ira again. You wonder if perhaps he’d ran out of love to give and if that was the case, you couldn’t blame him. You reach the final page; a picture of the three of them, Jungkook holds Soori in his arms and Ira wraps hers around them. She’s looking at him, a smile on her face as they stand in front of the sea. The water is blue and the day looks bright and they’re perfect. They’re love. The real kind, your brain argues. The kind that takes years to nurture, the kind that faces adversities and triumphs. The one that reproduces itself into the most perfect combination of every good thing about both ends. Soori is only a couple of months old but she smiles into the camera and for the first time, you see both Ira and Jungkook in her. 

~

You’d placed the photobook right where you’d found it and for the past thirty minutes, you’d been staring at the glass doors that led to the garden, in complete silence, though your thoughts are loud. You don’t hear Jungkook come in and it’s only when he sits on the couch next to you that you fully notice his presence. 

“What a fucking day,” he sighs, leaning back into the cushions and closing his eyes. 

You look at him for a long time, and he doesn’t acknowledge your silence. 

“You’re home now,” you say, even though it’s not the home you’d want it to be. 

“Yeah,” he looks at you. “How’s Soo?”

“Good. Sleeping.”

“Thank you for staying with her.”

“Of course.”

“I’m fucking starving,” he says, sinking further into the couch, his head turning to face you. “You hungry? Want some ramen?”

You simply nod and that has him getting up from the couch, hand reaching for yours. You walk into the kitchen together, your fingers entwined in his and the simple act sends electric currents down your body. It’s funny how unaware you can be about touch until it’s the right person’s skin against your very own, because what you feel right now, you hadn’t felt in days. 

You miss his touch instantly as he moves on to making dinner. 

“How was your day,” you ask, because you’re tired of the silence, and you’re tired of putting in an effort at keeping your heart quiet. 

“Long. And exhausting. Never ending, even.” And Jungkook doesn’t mean to whine and complain but then again, it’s not like he was lying. His day had been hell and just when he thought it was over, another problem presented itself right before his eyes. 

“What exactly are you working on right now?”

He looks up at you before he says, “I’m buying land to build a hotel in the Alps.” You can’t help but chuckle. “Funny, huh?”

“Your live is unreal to me sometimes.”

He pours water into a pot, placing it over the stove to bring to a boil. He stalls for a minute, remembering where they kept the ramen packets. “Yeah, to me too.”

You point to the cabinets behind him, and he gives you a quick smile in acknowledgement. 

“So, is that what’s taking up all of your time?”

“Yeah, sort of. It’s just a lot of politics and strategy. Meeting in the middle and settling and whatnot. Some of these people are so hard to negotiate with, though. They know real estate, but not hotels.”

“Well, I’d assume not many people do. And I’d assume what you know, you learned at a very young age.”

“Well, not quite. I wasn’t always interested in my field of work, believe it or not.”

“Nonetheless, you grew up around it.”

“So?”

“So, it’s a privilege that you have access to all of this knowledge. What you know- the way you know it, that can’t be taught in a classroom.”

“Well, no. It requires experience.”

Jungkook catches the way you roll your eyes, a huff leaving your mouth as you smile. 

“What?” He says.

“Nothing.”

“It’s okay, you can say it.”

You raise an eyebrow in defense. “Say what?”

“You know, give me the whole nepotism talk.”

“I wasn’t going to do that.”

“Yeah, sure.” He smiles but there’s nothing soft about the action. “Dinner’s ready.”

You stand in deafening silence for a minute, eyes on his, like this is the beginning of something you won’t be able to stop without someone getting hurt. 

“I think I’m gonna go home. I’m tired,” you say, turning around and getting ready to leave. 

“Oh, come on.” 

And that makes you stop in your tracks, turning so you can face him again, eyes narrowed and lips ready to spit venom if you so pleased. 

“I don’t feel like fighting with you right now, Jungkook.” And you could’ve left it at that, and perhaps it would’ve been better, but you don’t. “Oh, wait. I don’t have to do that. Because you seem to know what I want to say.”

He walks closer to you and nothing in his face tells you he’s about to extinguish the flames that seem to grow taller between you. 

“Your poker face isn’t all that good, baby.”

“I’m glad my intentions came across clear as day.”

He smiles, eyes diverting from you for a second before his gaze pierces yours once again. You inch closer to him and it’s barely noticeable, scowling back at him. Your blood feels hot and the flame grows bigger, more violent, only the fire gets lost in something else. Something that is only understood the moment Jungkook is pulling you closer and his lips are crashing onto yours in a kiss that makes the warmth travel throughout your body until the whole room is scolding hot. 

Your lips part but a second as you catch your breaths, chests heaving in sync, impossibly close. You try to find words, form a thought, anything that could leave your lips in a coherent sentence but you’re left with nothing. Blank, red, heat. It’s all you can think about. Him and his proximity. When Jungkook diverts his gaze from your eyes to your lips, it’s you that crashes your lips to his once again, deepening the kiss as your fingers tangle in his hair. Both his hands wrap around your waist, squeezing at the flesh and he curses the fabric that comes between his fingertips and your skin. He longs to touch you, he longs to have you and his life was starting to feel like a waiting game when it came to you. He didn’t think he could go a second longer entertaining it.

He walks you backwards until your back hits the kitchen island, flushing himself to you until he’s pressing you against it. Your hands roam down his body, starting down his arms and up his torso, until they’re on his neck again and you wrap your arms around it, hugging him to you. His hands travel to your ass, squeezing before he’s picking you up and sitting you on the counter, taking one step closer so he stands snuggly between your legs as they close around him. And you kiss. You kiss with intention but no direction, his tongue parting your lips and meeting yours halfway – sloppy, messy, needy. His hands travel under your dress until he’s squeezing the flesh on your thighs, drawing you closer to him. You loose track of time, not a care in the world but his lips on yours and so does Jungkook, who doesn’t realize how much he’s aching for you until your hips are involuntarily grinding against his. His cock jumps and he’s more alert of you than ever, a throaty moan escaping his lips as you repeat the motion. 

You feel it, too. And some part of your brain tries to tell you that your body’s betraying you. That you’re kissing him with the same mouth that holds secrets from him, anger even. But you don’t care. Your heart leaps the closer he pulls you in and your skin feels wired with electricity the more the sensation of wanting him begins to take over your body. You want him, you need him, and when he’s so supple for you the way he is now there’s no way you could deny yourself the pleasure of having him. 

Your hand begins its descend, squeezing at the nape of his neck, down his chest and toned abdomen, taking a detour to untuck his shirt from under his pants, letting your hands roam inside, feeling his warm skin against them. You feel the way he sucks in a sharp breath, tummy caving in at your touch in anticipation. You smile against his lips and he kisses you harder, palms squeezing your flesh. You finally give him what he wants when your hand closes around his cock, making it pulse against the fabric of his pants. The moan that escapes his mouth borders on a whine and it’s so delicious it has you throwing your head back, eyes rolling to the back of your skull. His lips find your neck, kissing and sucking on the sensitive skin, rejoicing in the little whines that you let out at the feeling. 

He breaks the kiss, reluctantly removing his hands from your body so he can unbutton his shirt, unable to handle the heavy nature the air has taken around him. You lean back, palms resting against the cool marble of the counter, cocking your head to the side and taking him in. You notice him noticing you, and you don’t miss the way he slows down his movements, taking his time all of a sudden, giving you a show. You smile, lip caught between your teeth and you feel the need to close your legs, an impulse reaction at the need of friction. Jungkook notices this, your body jerking slightly, face delirious, eyes desperate and he chuckles. It has bite and attitude, and you raise an eyebrow at him. 

“Don’t get cocky now,” you say, brain short-circuiting when he finally removes his shirt.

“I won’t. Need you too badly to play games right now.”

His words barely register because as soon as they leave him, his lips are back on yours, twice as fervently as before, his purpose clear. You give into him, not wanting to play games either. 

“I need you to touch me, Jungkook.”

His hand comes down to your breast, squeezing and pulling sweet little noises from you. 

“Yeah, baby?”

Your hands find his waistband, undoing the button of his pants, his zipper following, until your hand is traveling down his boxers and gripping around his cock, making him hiss at the contact. 

“Oh, fuck.” His voice is hoarse, deep. Your hand begins to move, thumb collecting the pre cum before you’re circling it around his tip. He bites your bottom lip as you begin to stroke languidly, applying pressure here and there, teasing him. 

“Are you gonna fuck me in the kitchen, Jungkookie?”

“Yeah. It’ll ruin my mornings forever, though.”

You pout, mocking innocence. “Why’s that?”

“Every morning, when I walk in here,” his hands travel under your dress again, fingers toying with the waistband of your underwear. “I’m gonna see you behind this counter,” he kisses you, a gasp leaving your lips as he hooks his index finger down the side of your panties, a soft touch to your skin. “Making coffee, cooking breakfast.” His middle finger spreads your folds, a soft hum passing his lips when he notices how wet you are. “In your short little dresses, acting like you don’t know what you do to me.”

“I-I don’t,” and he doesn’t let you finish your sentence. Middle and index finger entering you slowly, eyes on yours as his face grows confused. 

“You don’t?”

“N-no, mm, Jungkook,” you plead.

“Say please.”

“Please.”

“You’re so good, baby.” He kisses you, fingers picking up pace inside of you, finding that spot that has you arching your back for him in no time. “But you know what?”

“W-what?” Your eyes snap open, silently pleading that he doesn’t stop. 

“I think you do know.” His fingers stop and he smirks when your face falls. Your eyes travel down, following the way his hand wraps around his cock, spreading your wetness all over it. “I think you know exactly what you’re doing.” He pushes your panties to the side before his tip teases your entrance, a moan escaping both your lips in unison. “And I think you like it.” He pushes inside of you and you sigh. He thinks it’s sweet, the way you react to him. You feel so good around him. He cups your cheek, pressing his forehead to yours before stealing a kiss from your lips. “Don’t you like it, baby?”

“Yes. I like it, fuck.” You don’t even knowing what you’re agreeing on at this point and you don’t care, too entranced by the way his cock stretches your walls so perfectly, hitting it so fucking good it’s almost like he was made for your pussy. And in this moment, Jungkook is sure of it. 

“Shit, baby. You feel so good.”

And sure, Jungkook could fuck you at this leisurely pace for the rest of his life, getting to feel every inch of you until it drove him fucking insane. But he wanted more – he needed more – and the way you were digging your nails in his biceps told him that you did, too. When he pulls away, you whine, narrowing your eyes at him and then rolling them when he simply responds with a, “patience.” He wastes no time removing your panties, throwing them behind him before he hooks his hand under your knee, bringing your leg up until your foot is resting against the kitchen counter. He starts fucking you again, but harder this time and the angle is so fucking perfect you swear you begin to see stars in your eyes, feeling a bit lightheaded at the feeling. He kisses down your neck again, letting himself enjoy how good you sound, and how good you feel. How good your skin tastes on his tongue. 

“Don’t stop, baby, oh my God.”

And so he locks in the pace, middle finger finding your clit and circling around it until he feels the way your body begins to shake in his hold, pussy clenching around him. 

“Fuck, yeah, baby. Cum for me,  ___.”

Your body shakes, moans getting louder as he kisses you and you can feel the way he smiles against your lips. He fucks you slow, letting you come down from your high, kissing you passionately and making your mind go hazy with every touch. Every little thing he does sends your mind into a frenzy and you fucking love the feeling. Your body is completely submitted to him, and you let him do whatever he wants to you. You let him kiss you, you let him hold you when he brings you down from the counter and your legs fail you. He laughs and you shush him and then you let him kiss you again. You let him turn you around, gently push you down until the upper half of your body rests against the cold marble. His legs part yours, hands uncovering you as he pushes your dress up and out of the way. He runs his hands down your body gently and you close your eyes, enjoying the moment, content little sighs leaving your mouth. He plays with your pussy, as he kisses down your back and when you begin to clench around his fingers, he fucks you like this. He goes hard, but he goes slow and he grunts when you throw your ass back, meeting him halfway. He spanks you once, twice, making you gasp and wish you had the strength to go for hours. 

“I’m gonna cum, baby. God, you’re so fucking hot.”

“Please, Jungkook- I need it, please.”

And you’re so pliant, so willing to give him anything he wants. So willing to give yourself to him his cock and heart are basically battling for blood at this point. 

“Nngh- I’m gonna cum.”

You feel his warmth hit your ass, some landing on your back, and it makes you giggle, feeling a tad bit delirious at how ridiculously good that can feel. 

“Truce?” You look back at him, but he’s too enthralled by the way his cum paints your ass. 

“Mhm,” he musters after a second too long. 

“You’re such a boy.”

“And you have such a nice ass.”

He cleans you up with his shirt, helping you step inside your panties and even pulls them up himself. When he comes back up, standing in front of you, he kisses you. Not lustfully, not for the heat of the moment, but for something more. Something that says I’ve missed you. Your heart begins to transform into the odd shape it’d been in the past couple of days because all you can think of is how much you loved him right now. How much you’ve loved him, even amidst your anger and disappointment. You knew it, your body knew it, and now your heart was angry again. 

“Stay the night,” he says. “We’ll tell Mrs. Chae that you got here earlier. Or we’ll sneak you out through a window, I don’t know. But stay.”

Jungkook is just trying to be funny, but his words hurt. And you know they shouldn’t. You know you’d agreed to take things slow, to let him heal and test the waters but your decisions had made you selfish and right now, you had no way of controlling how much you wanted what you wanted. 

“I,” you pause, looking into his eyes. “I better go.”

“Why?”

“I should get home and shower and try to rest before tomorrow. Plus, I don’t have clothes or anything here and- I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Jungkook scans your eyes, trying to find the reason as to why your perfectly logical answer makes him feel so uneasy. But he can’t. He can’t find it, but he also can’t shake the feeling. 

“Okay.” He kisses you again. “I’m sorry for being a dick earlier. I let my exhaustion get the best of me.”

You smile at him. “It’s okay. I’m sorry, too. I don’t think you’re a nepo baby.”

“Mmm,” he plays, making you laugh.

“Only a little. But I would never say it to your face.”

“Oh, you’re so sweet.”

“I am, aren’t I?”

He nods, kissing you again. And in that moment, you wonder if you’d ever felt your heart break and fall at the same time. 

~

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