#i hope you’re excited to see it! the story will be getting on its feet and arthur’s day will not.

[animatedjen]

17 BBY - Zorşa Edan, City of Zelvahn, Inner Rim

“Do I know you?”

The man froze. Tayala often ran into friends while out on errands– Abla joked that she was on a first-name basis with half the town. But this man, towering over the market in a maroon coat and threadbare hat, was both familiar and foreign. She shouldered her groceries and joined him at the stall, trying to place his dark hair and furrowed brow.

The man shook his head. “I’m really sorry. You’re thinking of someone else,” he said, dismissing her with a wave.

She was thinking of someone else. Embarrassment flushed across Tayala’s face. She mumbled an apology and stepped back into the midday crowd as the stranger moved on, rounding Qurna’s place at the end of the street. Tayala adjusted her headscarf and collected the wayward topato that had fallen from her bag. It’d be a good story for the clinic tomorrow, Doctor Akuna finally meeting someone she didn’t know.

She let herself glance once more at the man. He had stepped off the road to avoid a passing speeder, and paused only to roll out his shoulder, reaching a hand to where the Separatist had stabbed–

Tayala did know him. The Jedi.

“Boone.”

His gaze snapped up, and in a breath the man disappeared. Tayala darted forward, skirting the customers and idling hovercraft scattered around the city inn. Someone yelled, and she knew she’d get an earful from RN-8T after this; the droid prided itself on keeping the establishment free from “riff-raff” and “excitement.”

The streets narrowed here, ancient stone walls covered with generations of dirt and memory. New Imperial signage had been drilled into their crumbling foundations: updated trade regulations, identichip requirements, directions to the nearby recruitment office. Tayala passed a group of vagrant Neimodians and cut through a side street, then paused at the next intersection. How far could he have gone?

Something cold pressed against her back. “I don’t want to do this,” the Jedi said softly. “But you’re making it very difficult.”

A blaster. Tayala’s heartbeat thundered over the hum of the charged weapon. “There was an insurgent group based here during the war,” she whispered. “You were sent by the council to flush them out.”

Boone (she was sure of it now) adjusted the blaster slightly, his eyes scanning the nearby alley. “I was one of the local informants,” Tayala continued, “feeding them false leads. I gave you a cheffa cake the night you left.”

“With dewberries,” Boone murmured. He stepped forward, moving both of them further into the alleyway. “Did you also bake cakes for the Imperial patrol heading this way?”

“Their garrison is behind the old city,” Tayala said, panic rising in her throat. She twisted in his grasp but couldn’t see any patrols. “They’ve been clearing out the area over the last few days. Preparing for something.”

Her sandal caught the edge of a drainage grate, and dust drifted into the empty tunnel below them. The system hadn’t been used in years– either the Empire hadn’t noticed or hadn’t bothered to close it off yet. Tayala dropped her bag and carefully raised both hands, then turned to face the Jedi. 

“But I know a way out. Somewhere safe.” She gestured down at their feet.

Boone stared at her for a long moment. Then he swore, holstered his blaster, and ripped the grate from the ground.

—

“They’re saying the old city is ‘structurally unsafe’ and have restricted all non-Imperial use. Qurna is giving them hell about it, for good reason. Most of his customers only stay at that inn because of its backdoor access.” 

“Everyone needs a way to disappear these days.”

The rooftop of the Akuna home boasted a small patio designed for water tank maintenance. Any hope of a view was obscured by the surrounding buildings, but hazy daylight filtered through the open space above. Tayala found room for two cups of tea amidst the half-built equipment and weaponry scattered across the table. “You’ve been busy,” she noted.

“Haven’t had time to do much repair work lately,” Boone replied. He had stripped to an undershirt, his coat piled into a makeshift bed in the corner, and chimney soot had settled across his bare shoulders. A vibroblade scar cut across the base of his neck.

“...and salvaged material is never as reliable as stolen. But I can’t risk anything with a locator on it,” Boone was saying. Tayala pulled her eyes away and dropped into the other chair.

“That’s not how you normally operate, I assume,” she said.

“It wasn’t,” he sighed. “But it is now.”

The local spaceport shuttle rumbled overhead and temporarily blocked the light. When it returned, the Jedi was staring at her, his dark eyes stained by sleepless nights.

“Do you believe what they say about us?”

Tayala hummed softly. The reports had been scattered at first, disparate accounts of the traitorous Jedi Order. An attempted assassination. The end of the war. Zorşa Edan had known peace for the first time in years, and neither Republic nor Empire could change that relief.

“I heard that Jedi can sense a person’s emotions,” she said. “Know your every thought, even before you think it.”

“Not every.” Boone sipped his tea.

Tayala smirked. “Then you tell me.”

Boone rubbed his thumb against the rim of the cup. From above, the evening call of Zelvahn echoed faintly from the city center. 

“Everyone has a presence in the Force,” he finally said. “Like an invisible tapestry. All the different threads, connecting all living things. Those who wield the Force can recognize patterns in the tapestry, sense individual people and their intentions. Some patterns are filled with light, others with darkness.”

The components on the table rumbled, as if summoned by an unspoken command. Tayala watched them rise into the air, swirling around in a pattern beyond her understanding, until the familiar shape of a blaster appeared. It lowered itself into her shaking hands.

“So you tell me,” Boone said. “Is this worth the risk?”

Tayala swallowed. She hadn’t held a blaster since the war, and had hoped she never would again. The Jedi set his cup on the emptied table, leaned back in the chair, and waited.

Another shuttle passed overhead. In the moment of shadow, Tayala saw a crack of light pouring from the doorway behind her.

The blaster was in hand and aimed at the door by the time the sky returned. There Abla stood, slack jawed, with a roll of bread tucked under one arm. Tayala choked out a sob and dropped the weapon, rushing to her sister’s side.

—

“The ship leaves in an hour.”

“I know.”

Boone had spent most of the last two weeks on that windowless patio. Imperial presence in Zorşa Edan was only growing, now that a training facility had been built over the old city. One night he’d risked a dinner with the Akuna family, a small affair with pulled curtains and quiet voices. Still, he admitted to her later, it was the best meal he’d had in years.

Tayala wrapped the last of the provisions (dried meiloorun, and a small piece of cheffa cake) in a thick cloth and added it to the knapsack. The Jedi’s former clothes had been replaced, and she’d trimmed his overgrown beard the night before. Still, it didn’t feel like enough.

“Is this everything?” she asked, heaving the bag onto the table. Boone whistled at the show of strength, and Tayala laughed, flexing. He smiled and took her hand.

“Can you practice for me, once more?”

She scrunched her face, eyes bright, then relaxed and let her thoughts settle into a sort of stillness. It didn’t come naturally– there was no tapestry or patterns she could discern. But she softened her breaths anyway, letting her eyes close and emotions fade into some unknown space, like waves on a distant shore.

“Good,” Boone whispered. “That’s really good.” He slid his thumb over her knuckles, and she matched her breathing to his movement. “I can still sense you, but your presence is much quieter. I- I hope this helps keep you safe.”

Tayala met his gaze. The Jedi was staring at her with those same deep eyes, framed by dark hair and a constellation of freckles. “Boone,” she said. “You can’t stay.”

“Sure I can,” he murmured, leaning closer. “I won’t be Boone. I’ll be someone else.”

“Who else would you be, Jedi?” she whispered.

And Tayala Akuna didn’t need the Force to understand his answer.

–

“Tayala met someone,” her sister would later say. “While visiting our cousins on Birrin. Some tall, handsome man. I think he’s a teacher.”

Then, much later, Abla would receive a hologram of a tiny, round-faced baby. Kata’s portrait was given a place of honor on the mantle, framed by other keepsakes of the Akuna family, where it remains to this day.

[steelheart-redux]

Thank you all for the interest and excitement! I’m taking a bit of a break to rest and then build up a backlog for chapter 2, but we’ll be back soon enough.

The current scheduled return date is September 24th, 3 weeks out. Chapter 2 will release in bi-weekly updates on Tuesdays and Fridays, starting then.

I hope to see you there!

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 21- Paradise

Summary: Now that you and Javi are married, it's time for you to enjoy two weeks of nothing but your three favorite "S's"- Sun, sand, and sex. Lots of Sex.

Word Count: 13.9K

Warnings: SMUT (18+) unprotected p in v sex, oral (f and m receiving) vaginal fingering, praise kink, marriage kink, big, fat, nasty, unspeakable breeding kink (WHOOPS), stopping birth control/starting a family, kind of semi-public sex (sex on the beach hehe), alcohol/drinking (y'all are getting wasted at the pool), I'm convinced these two can't have sex without getting caught (sorry, Chucho), Javi in a bathing suit, these two are so stupidly in love

A/N: ..... Hey.... Y'all remember when I actually wrote for this story.... 😭 I'm genuinely SO sorry that this chapter took me literal months to finish, but she is finally here!!! Thank you so much for all of your patience and the love you've shown these two even in this story's absence 🥺 I hope you enjoy these two horndogs on their honeymoon!!!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

“We have all of our bags?” 

“Yup.” 

“Passports?” 

“Mhmmmm.” 

“Plane tickets?” 

“Yes.” 

“We’re positive that we have-” 

“Baby, I promise, I triple checked everything this morning, it’s all waiting by the front door, all we have to do now is just wait for my dad to pick us up and take us to the airport, and all my wife needs to do is take a deep breath and relax.” 

My wife. 

Even though you had been married for less than 24 hours, you knew the sentiment of finally getting to be Javi’s wife wasn’t wearing off on you any time soon. 

Javi smiled, playfully crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow at you as you ran through your honeymoon inventory again, knowing damn well you looked like a fool in your frantic pre-traveling state. You more than trusted that Javi had everything the two of you needed before you left for the airport, but you just couldn’t shake the fact that you felt like you were forgetting something, despite all your checks and re-checks. 

“Well, your wife will be much more relaxed once we land after being trapped in a flying tin can and have two feet on the ground again.” You sighed, trying not to let your fear of flying override your excitement to finally arrive in the Bahamas later that day. “God, I feel like I forgot to pack something important but I can’t figure out what.” 

As you stared in frustration at your pile of suitcases, you could feel Javi sneaking behind you, flushing his chest to your back as his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he rested his chin on your shoulder, planting a soft kiss on your temple. 

“I think I know what it is.” Javi smirked, his kisses traveling down your jaw as he nipped at your ear, making you turn your head back toward him in confusion. 

“Oh, so now you’re a husband and a mind reader. That honestly will come in very handy.” You teased, giggling while you shifted around to face him, draping his arms around his neck as his hands traveled down your waist, reaching down to grab a handful of your ass. “Jesus Javi, what in the world am I forgetting, because you seem pretty darn happy I can’t remember it.” 

“You really don’t know?” Javi asked, almost mockingly, tightening his grip around your hips, peppering kisses along your jaw and neck, the hot words of his breath dancing across your skin. 

“No, Mr. Mind Reader, I don’t, and you’re making it very hard to concentrate and figure out what it is.” 

You were trying your best to genuinely let your brain run out its train of thought, but as Javi’s kisses across your collarbone became wetter and sloppier, trying to form any sort of coherent idea was practically impossible. 

Javi paused for a moment, reaching both hands up to cusp your face, his broad hands cradling your jaw as his thumbs swiped across your cheeks, looking up at him to see the boyish grin spread from cheek to cheek. 

“You’re forgetting something because you’re forgetting to bring it on purpose. Something we threw away this morning, remember?” 

Oh shit. 

You were forgetting something. Only, now that you finally remembered what it was, you couldn’t be happier that you had forgotten it. 

Your birth control. 

As Javi watched your face quickly fade from confusion to delight, your grin was just about as wide as his, biting down on your lip to try and contain your excitement while your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. 

The two of you could actually start trying for a baby. 

“You remember now?” Javi teased, laughing to himself at how wide your eyes had gone, practically beaming from the inside out at your husband, feeling butterflies swirl in your stomach and heat building in your core. 

Leaning up, your mouth met Javi’s in a sloppy dance of tongues and teeth, lips crashing together in electric excitement, grabbing a fistfull of the fitted green t-shirt covering his chest and tugging him closer towards you. 

“How much longer until your dad is supposed to be here?” You rasped, already breathing heavily from your frantic kisses and anticipation. 

Quickly, Javi looked down at his watch wrapped around his wrist, the gears turn in his brain, calculating if the two of you had enough time to do what he knew you were proposing. 

“Fuck- Like, 40 minutes?” 

Without saying a word, both of you agreed in silent, rushed nods that 40 minutes was enough time to give yourself enough of a buffer, and the risk definitely didn’t outweigh the reward, knowing there was no way in hell that you could wait an entire plane ride and arriving at your hotel room to fuck. 

In an instant, your mouths were crashing together again, Javi grabbing the underside of your thighs to hoist you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you back towards the couch in the living room, the back of his knees hitting the sofa as he collapsed into his seat, you still straddling his lap without ever parting your lips. 

Javi’s hands crept below the hem of your shirt, shuffling it over your head and tossing it on the floor before shuffling your shorts and underwear off to join your top in a crumpled pile on the floor. Your hands worked rapidly at the waistband of Javi’s shorts, lifting up off his lap to push them down his thighs, revealing the hard and weeping mess his cock had already become since carrying you over to the couch, your cunt aching at the sight of his length and how desperately you wanted to be filled by it. 

“God, I wanna fuck you so bad.” You whimpered between your wet kisses, shifting yourself closer to hover over his dick, so turned on that you were convinced that your arousal was already dripping down your thighs at an embarrassing rate. 

“Baby, you have no fucking idea.” Javi groaned, dragging his fingers through your folds, your body jolting at the sensation at the pads of his fingers rubbing over your clit, throbbing and aching under his touch. “Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking wet.” 

Reaching down to wrap your hand around the base of his cock, stroking it a few times, you slowly lowered yourself down onto his tip, knowing that with your limited time and how turned on you were, you didn’t want to feel anything besides the sweet sting of Javi’s stretch filling you to the brim. 

The two of you moaned in unison as you sank down on his length, bottoming out until you had taken every inch of him, taking a second to adjust to his size before rolling your hips over his lap in figure eights. 

“F-fuck, you feel so good, Javi.” You whined, circling your bottom half faster, the friction of the hairs at the base of Javi’s cock rubbing deliciously against your clit combined with Javi groping at your breasts, sucking at one of your pebbled nipples while he rolled the other between his fingers, making your breath hitch in the back of your throat. 

Javi began to let his hips rut up into yours, thrusting his length deeper into your cunt as you rode him, his hands sliding down the sides of your body and wrapping around your ass, massaging the plump flesh between his fingers while his lips crashed into yours again, catching each other’s muffled moans. 

“F-fuck…”  Javi whined, tightening his grip to try and maintain his composure as his thoughts began to flow straight from his brain through his mouth. “I’m gonna fuck you so full of me, Osita. Fuck a baby into you, get you pregnant, watch you grow our our kid and give us our perfect family.” 

“Oh my god- fuck- yes. Please, Javi. Fuck, I want you to knock me up. I wanna- fuck- I wanna  make you a daddy.” You moaned, running your hands through the dark curls of Javi’s hair as he began to pound into you even harder, his fingertips gripping your hips with bruising intensity as he guided you up and down his cock, the two of you both so lost in your own pleasure that you hadn’t heard a faintly familiar voice echoing from the front door. 

“Javi, Mija, I know I’m a little early but I figured you’d rather get to the airport earlier than later!” 

Little did poor Chucho know that today was one of the few times in his life that he would regret showing up anywhere earlier than expected. 

Surprised by the lack of response, despite the packed and stacked bags waiting by the front door, an unsuspecting Chucho kicked off his boots and began meandering down the entryway towards your living room, where and even more unsuspecting you and Javi were half dressed and sprawled across your couch trying to make a baby. 

“Javier? Mija? Are you two ready to leave soon? I was hoping that- Oh Dios Mio!” 

“AHHHHHHH!” 

With Javi’s back to his dad as you sat in his lap, you were the first to lock eyes with your now father-in-law, your jaw practically falling to the floor as you let out a panicked shriek, causing Javi to whip his own head around, terror running through his veins as he frantically threw you off his lap and tried to cover the both of you with the nearest blanket he could find. 

“Jesus Christ, Pops!” Javi shouted, hands covering his face that had turned bright red in quite possibly the world's worst kind of embarrassment. “Why are you here so early?! Please just, I- I don’t know, for Christ’s sake, please go wait outside!” He sighed, pointing towards the front door where Chucho had just regrettably entered from. 

“How was I supposed to know!? I figured I would be safe! Say no more, I will just go wait on the front porch. Aye, aye, aye…” Chucho replied, quickly scampering away towards the door, eyes peeled to the ground and arms up in self-defense, waiting until you heard the soft slam and clicking lock behind him before peering out from underneath your blanket shield. 

“Jesus fucking Christ…” Javi groaned, hands still covering his face as you looked up at him, cheeks glowing beet red in embarrassment. 

“Please don’t tell me your dad just walked in on us having sex…” You winced, absolutely knowing the answer to your question, but still somehow praying that maybe, just maybe, you were imaging things. 

“... My dad definitely just walked in on us having sex.” Javi sighed, his face as almost as red as yours, scrambling to find your clothes scattered between the cushions, tossing them over to you, frantically trying to cover yourself up to save any ounce of dignity you had left. 

“Well, looks like I am going to start walking to the airport because I don’t think I can ever make eye contact with your dad again…” You muttered, making you and Javi laugh just enough to try and ease the uncomfortable tension, wondering how in the world you were supposed to spend an entire ride to the airport with Chucho without wanting to crawl out of your skin. “I thought you said he was supposed to get here later!”

“Well that’s what I thought too, but apparently not!” Javi grumbled, shuffling his shirt over his head, combing his hand through his hair to try and fix the mess you had made raking your fingers through it. 

“Guess we won’t have any worries about getting to the airport on time…” 

“Guess you’re right about that. Fuck me…” 

“Sure you don’t wanna start walking?” 

While Chucho, you and Javi had seemingly made a silent pact to not say a peep to each other the entire car ride for the duration of your drive, every passing second seemed more awkward and uncomfortable than the last, truly regretting your decision to not grab your bags and walk along the highway to try and catch your flight. 

It wasn’t until Chucho began pulling up to drop the two of you off that he decided it was time to break your truce, his eyes meeting yours in the rear view mirror as the two of you sat awkwardly in the backseat, bracing yourself the moment you could feel his mouth begin to open. 

“You know, the night of our wedding, Lucia and I just couldn’t keep our hands off each other either, it was so-” 

“Dad!” Javi interjected, his face physically scrunching in pain at the thought of how his father planned to complete the rest of that thought, trying to cut him off before he could get any further. 

“Lo siento (Sorry)! God forbid I try to do something to ease the tension!” Chucho chuckled, throwing his hands up in defense at his statement. 

“I don’t think where you were headed was the way to do that, Pops.” Javi muttered, letting out another deep sigh of embarrassment. 

 “Well lucky for you, it looks like we’re here.” Chucho smiled, pulling into one of the parking spots outside of your gate and turning off the ignition. “Here, let me help you with the bags in the trunk and-” 

“Nope, already got it, Pops, please do not get out of the car.” Javi begged, practically sprinting out of the backseat to the trunk, you quickly following behind him, beginning to sheepishly unload your luggage from the car. 

Of course, Chucho being Chucho was not about to take no for an answer, slowly fumbling his way out of the car to greet the two of you at the trunk with a mischievous grin stretched ear to ear. 

“Pops, please, I told you I’ve got it, I-” 

“Oh hush, Javier, I am just coming out to say goodbye, yo promento (I promise).” Chucho laughed, grabbing Javi by the shoulder, giving him a little shake. 

“Bye Chucho.” You grimaced, leaning in reluctantly for a hug. “Thanks for dropping us off. S-sorry about earlier.” You couldn’t help but wince again, eyes darting to the ground at your last sentence. 

“Oh mija, don’t apologize. Could be worse.” 

“I’m not really sure how it could be…” You whispered under your breath, just loud enough for Javi to hear, making him hold back a snort. 

“Besides, I think this bodes well for my bet I have placed.” Chucho smirked, crossing his arms over his chest as the two of you looked at him in confusion, 

“Your bet?” Javi asked, raising an eyebrow at his dad. 

“Mhmmm. The bet between me, your family, Mija, and the Murphy’s.” 

“As much as I love a vague and cryptic guessing game, any chance you’re gonna tell us what that bet is?” You laughed uncomfortably, looking back between Javi and Chucho. 

“Oh, don’t you worry, Mija. I think the two of you will know soon enough. Okay, enough of that! I will let the two of you go. Have a safe flight and a wonderful trip. I couldn’t be happier for the two of you. Enjoy your first of your many amazing adventures as a married couple.” 

While you couldn’t deny you still weren’t far off from wanting to find the nearest hole and disappear in, you couldn’t help but feel your cheeks warm at the sentiment of Chucho’s well-wishes, placing your hand in Javi’s and squeezing it tight, beaming up at your husband with love and excitement. 

“Thanks, Pops.” 

“Claro (of course). Alright, mijos, adios. Have fun. But not too much fun, if you know what I-” 

“Yup, we know exactly what you mean, bye, Dad!” Javi grunted, gently turning his father around and pushing him back towards the car making him laugh, giving the both of you one last wave goodbye before disappearing down the road. 

“Jesus Christ, I’m glad that’s over…” Javi sighed, wrapping his arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“You can say that again. What bet do you think he was talking about?” 

“Honestly, no fucking clue. And truth be told, right now, I couldn’t care less. Because right now,” He paused, leaning down to hold your cheek in his palm, forcing your gaze up at him, “all I care about,” he paused once again, planting a playful kiss on your lips, “is getting my beautiful wife onto this plane so we can start our honeymoon.” 

“Say it again.” You smiled, pressing up on your tiptoes to kiss him back. 

“My wife. My beautiful, amazing, drop dead gorgeous wife, who has single-handedly made me the luckiest man in the entire world.” Javi smirked, biting down on his lip as his grip tightened around you, making you giggle. 

“Easy there, Romeo, we still have a whole flight to get through, ya know.” 

Fortunately, your flight and arrival to the Bahamas was much less eventful than anything that had happened this morning, the embarrassment of your father-in-law’s unfortunate timing quickly fading away as you strolled up to the front desk to check into your room for the next ten days of nothing but what you had deemed your three favorite “S’s��- 

Sun, sand, and sex. 

Lots of sex. 

“Hi there! Welcome! My name is Cassandra, how can I help the two of you today?” A woman smiled politely from behind the check-in desk, quickly clacking away at her keyboard. 

“Hi. We’re checking in for Peña.” Javi beamed, grabbing your hand in his, gently rubbing his thumb over both sets of rings wrapped around your finger, knowing there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d ever get used to the fact he was lucky enough to get to call you his wife for the rest of his life. 

“Perfect! Let me get right on that.” She nodded, fingers tapping across the keys as she looked up your information. “Any special reason for your stay here?” 

“Honeymoon.” The two of you answered in sync, laughing to yourselves at your well timed response. 

“Well why didn’t you say that to begin with?! Let me see if I have anything I can upgrade you to for your stay!” Cassandra scoffed, almost comedically offended that your opening line hadn’t been “It’s our honeymoon, upgrade our room please!” 

“Oh, you don’t have to-” 

“Oh, honey, please. This is my favorite part of my job. Absolutely the least I can do for the two of you. Congratulations. Just give me one second here and…. Ah! Yes! I thought this one was available. Let’s upgrade you to the Ocean View King Suite. This one is one of my favorite rooms. You get the most beautiful view of the sunrise right from your balcony!” 

You and Javi looked at each other beaming, grins plastered across your faces in surprise. “Thank you so much, this is so nice of you to do for us.” You smiled. 

“Of course. Least that I can do. Like I said, it’s one of the highlights of doing this job. Alright, well, here are your room keys!” Cassandra grinned, passing the key cards and room information over the concierge desk and handing them to you and Javi. “If you head over to your right, there’s a bay of elevators that will take you to your room. I hope that you two have a wonderful stay, and enjoy your honeymoon!” 

“Thank you again, we really appreciate it.” Javi nodded, stuffing things into his pocket before leaning down to give you a kiss and reaching back to grab his suitcase and your hand in his. 

As Javi turned, leading the two of you towards the elevator, you couldn’t help but laugh at Cassandra’s face, her eyebrow playfully raised and head nodding in approval, pointing at Javi and giving you a thumbs up, as if you needed more confirmation that you had made a top-tier choice on the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with. 

“What’s so funny?” Javi smirked, tilting his head in confusion at your giggles as the two of you stepped into the elevator with the small crowd of people on their way back to their hotel rooms. 

“Nothing. Just some reassurance that I cleaned up pretty damn well in the husband department, which I can’t say I disagree with.” You snickered, reaching up to wrap your hand around his jaw, squeezing his cheeks in your grasp. 

“You’re such a dork, you know that?” 

“A dork who is now your wife, thank you very much.” You sassed, crossing your arms over your chest, making the two of you laugh quietly to yourselves until the ding of the elevator caught your attention. “Oh! I think this is us!” Quickly scrambling to grab your suitcase, you dashed out of the elevator as the doors parted, followed by Javi, trying to keep up with your excited pace. 

“Alright, Mrs. Dork, we’re room 2331.” Javi grinned, pulling the information from the front desk out of his pocket, scanning the hallway for rooms approaching your number, watching you search in front of him with detective-like accuracy. 

“Okay, let’s see, 2329… 2330… Here! Here it is! 2331!” You beamed, showing off the number of your room Vanna White style to Javi as he began to slip the room key into the card reader, pausing for a moment to stare at you with his sweet brown eyes in the midst of your goofiness. “What’s that look for?” You teased, smiling back at him. 

“Just reminding myself of how lucky I am. I love you, Mrs. Peña.” 

Mrs. Peña. 

You couldn’t help but let your heart skip a beat at the sound of him saying it, still not quite sure that the incredible reality of your new last name had completely sunk in with you yet. 

“I love you too, Mr. Peña. Now, you gonna open this door so we can put this room to use or what?” You smirked, raising your eyebrow at him playfully, gesturing towards your hotel room door. 

With a quick swipe of your room key the two of you unlocked your door to get a first glimpse of your hotel room. At first, the both of you were convinced you must have been in the wrong place, because this was the most beautiful, luxurious hotel room that you had ever laid eyes on. Complete with a giant king bed covered in fresh white sheets, free standing tub, huge couch and living room area, newly renovated, and most impressively, a huge set of sliding glass doors that lead to your balcony overlooking a breath-taking view of the beach and ocean below you. 

Mental note to self- you owed Cassandra at the big desk the biggest thank you ever. 

“Holy shit, Javi. This is gorgeous.” You muttered to yourself, dropping your bags off at one of the closets at the front of the room as you began to wander and explore, gently poking and prodding around as if you were a tourist in a museum, rather than a hotel guest in your own room. 

“It’s got no lack of options, that’s for sure.” Javi laughed quietly to himself, following behind you as he set down his own bags before doing an investigation of his own, the majority of which was spent watching you excitedly explore the in’s and outs of your new home for the next 10 days. 

“No lack of options?” You asked, tilting your head in confusion, as you turned towards Javi, hands resting on his hips with a smug grin spread from ear to ear. 

“Mmmhmmm.” He replied, making his way towards you until his hands were wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his chest to force your gaze up at his brown eyes, pooling with an equal combination of excitement and mischief. “No lack of options in this room for places I get to fuck my beautiful wife.” 

“You’re so bad!” You teased, giving him a little slap to his chest as the two of you laughed, knowing that you had the exact same thought, he was just the first to say it. 

“Oh c’mon, like you didn’t think the same thing.” 

“Okay listen… you’re not wrong. I would be a liar if I didn’t walk in here and think about how many different furniture choices we could fuck on before we had to leave.” You sighed in a playful defeat, your breaths slowly transforming to light and giggly to low and needy as Javi slid his hands resting on your hips down to your ass, palming it in his grasp. 

Craning his head down to rest in the crook of your neck, you couldn’t help but moan as he sucked at your pulse point, wet kisses consuming your neck and jawline as a damp patch began to pool in your underwear, falling apart under Javi’s touch. 

“Well if that’s the case, what should we break in first, Osita? What does mi esposa (my wife) want? ” Javi hummed, slipping his hands under the waistband of your shorts and underwear, pushing them over your hips and down your legs until they pooled around your ankles, leaving your bottom half bare. 

Snaking his hand between your bodies, you whimpered as his fingers ghosted over your core, grazing over your clit with just enough pressure to make you shutter in anticipation, feeling the slick of your arousal beginning to coat your thighs with want and need. 

“F-fuck-” You stammered, trying to string together anything that resembled a coherent thought, “The b-bed. Fuck me on the bed, baby, please.” 

Without another word, Javi had scooped you up under your thighs, forcing your legs to lock around his waist as he carried you toward the bed, mouths crashing together in a hungry mess of tongues and teeth. 

Javi set you down, gently laying your back on the bed just enough to let your lower half hang off the edge so he could make a home between your legs, draping each one over his shoulders and pushing them open further to reveal the wet, puffy mess in between your thighs. 

You should have been embarrassed with how worked up you already were from a few kisses and some ass grabbing, but with how excited you were to be here with your husband, without a worry in the world besides how many times you could disrespect your hotel room before you had to leave, you had no shame in how you were already dripping with anticipation as Javi’s eyes locked on your core. 

“Fuck, she’s so pretty.” Javi cooed, admiring the glistening sheen of your slick covering your folds, planting gentle kisses along the soft skin of your thighs, creeping closer and closer to your center. You sat up on your elbows to watch as Javi’s fingers lazily traced your cunt, collecting your arousal, rubbing with just enough pressure to make your clit throb even harder than it already had been. “Always so wet for me, Hermosa. My perfect wife. Fuck, I still can’t believe you’re all mine forever.” 

“Forever.” You whimpered, breath hitching in the back of your throat as Javi’s tongue dragged across your core with a broad, flat stroke, looking up at you with those devastatingly sweet, chocolate brown eyes, pulling off you with the look you knew all too well meant you were absolutely a goner. 

“Tastes so fucking sweet, baby.” Javi hummed, carefully bringing two fingers to your core, sinking them inside your weeping hole to prod steadily against your g-spot 

“Oh my god, fuck-” You whimpered, Javi working at a painstakingly slow pace that still had you writhing under his touch, his mouth and fingers moving in the perfect combination of pressure to already have a tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine despite the fact he had just started eating you out. 

Your jaw went slack as his digits prodded faster, his tongue swirling and flicking against your sensitive bundle of nerves, ragged moans and whimpers escaping from your lips, growing louder and more wonton by the second. 

“That’s my girl.” Javi cooed, pulling off you just enough to catch your attention, his fingers never faltering in pace, “Fuck, I could listen to you like this all day, Osita. All the pretty noises my wife makes just for me. C’mon, baby. You want everyone here to know who makes you feel this good, huh? Tell them, sweet girl, who makes you feel this good?” 

“Y-you, Javi, fuck- You do, baby.” You moaned, feeling your pussy begin to flutter around Javi’s fingers as his smug smirk pressed back against your cunt, now sucking at your clit with a ferocious switch intensity he knew would send you over the edge in an instant. 

Squeezing Javi’s head between your thighs, you cried out louder, chanting his name like a prayer with each second you grew closer and closer to your end, feeling arousal creeping through your body at a rapid rate. 

“Javi, Javi, fuck- Oh, baby, Javi, I’m gonna- gonnaahhhhhhh-” 

In an instant, your orgasm crashed through you, filling you with all consuming pleasure that had you seeing stars, sobbing out as your cunt clamped down around Javi’s fingers that were pulsing inside you through your high. 

At this point, you were probably close to suffocating your poor husband, but it was his own damn fault for knowing how to make you cum so hard, your soul just about left your body. 

Finally regaining enough inhibition, you let your legs fall open, freeing Javi from the thigh prison he had trapped himself in, still smirking with delight despite his red face and shortness of breath. 

“Jesus Christ, Osita.” He laughed, standing up as he began to shed his clothes, tossing his shirt and shorts in a crumpled pile on the floor, followed by his already tented and stained boxers, revealing his painfully hard cock, slapping against his stomach and bobbing between his legs as it was freed. “You tryin’ to kill me, baby?” 

“I could ask you the same thing.” You huffed, chest still rising and falling with heavy breaths as you came down from your high. “Sorry, not my fault you make me cum so hard I put you in a headlock between my legs.” 

You and Javi both couldn’t help but laugh as he helped you slide further up the bed, crawling over you and caging you under his broad body, peppering every inch of your body with kisses and intentionally tickling you with his mustache in all the places he knew made you giggle the most. 

“If I die between my wife’s thighs buried face deep in her pussy, I’d die a happy man.” 

“Well I have no plans on intentionally murdering you on this trip, so count yourself safe this time, Peña.” 

“Baby, I’m convinced you’re just trying to kill me slowly this entire trip, considering you have nothing packed in your suitcase besides bikinis and sundresses.” Javi sighed, arms planted around your head as he laid overtop of you, kissing up your collarbone and neck, all the way up your jawline. 

“Javier Peña, we are literally on a tropical vacation to the Bahamas. Would you have liked me to pack, a parka and snow pants?” You teased, breath hitching in the back of your throat between giggles, trying to maintain your composure between the wet, hot kisses, Javi was planting across your skin. 

“No,” He grumbled, “You’re the hottest woman I’ve ever fucking met, baby, you don’t think people aren’t staring at you everywhere you go? I can’t fucking blame ‘em, but they better notice that ring on your finger and know you’re off limits.” 

Heat crept through your cheeks, butterflies swirling in your stomach from what he had said, picking up on the notion behind his thoughts. Javi wasn’t a jealous man, but fuck, was he a protective one, and God help any man who tried to knowingly make a move on you while he was around. 

He wanted everyone to know you were his, and you just as badly wanted everyone to know he was yours. 

“Maybe just the ring isn’t enough, baby.” He smirked, nipping and tugging at your skin with his teeth as he snaked his hand between your bodies to stroke himself and line his cock up with your entrance. “‘Cause you know what else isn’t in your suitcase?” 

Your birth control. 

You didn’t have to say a word to know exactly what Javi meant, your face swelling with a mixture of excitement and want. 

“Javi, oh fuck-” You moaned, cut off by the sweet sting of Javi pushing into you, filling you up with every inch of himself until he had bottomed out, stalling for a moment to let you adjust to his fullness before slowly dragging his cock in and out of your cunt. 

“Maybe,” he groaned, biting down on his lip at just how good you felt around him, warmth and wetness coating his length with each stroke, “Maybe that ring on your finger isn’t enough, Ostia. Maybe once they see you pregnant with our baby growing inside you, they’ll know you’re mine.” 

It never failed to amaze you just how Javi knew how to make you short circuit with words alone, hoping the entire resort didn’t hear the absolutely pathetic whimper you let out at the idea of finally carrying his baby, showing off your family to the world, and the man who had given it to you.  

“Fuck, knock me up Javi. Wanna- wanna make you a daddy.” You whined, wrapping your arm up around his neck, running your fingers through his dark and sweaty curls, tugging him closer to you until your mouths were molded in a messy clash of tongues and teeth. 

“Christ- Yeah, baby girl? Fuck, I’ll give you whatever you want. I’ll fuck myself so deep inside you, it’s got no choice but to fuckin’ take. Keep you stuffed with my cum every day until it sticks.” Javi groaned, gritting his teeth as he grabbed the backs of your thighs, pushing them to your chest and pulling you closer to him so your back began to arch, giving himself the perfect angle to split you open and keep every last drop inside of you. 

You could feel every inch of Javi filling you, perfectly punching against that soft, spongy spot inside your cunt with each thrust, keeping your thighs still pressed against your chest as the lower half of your legs wrapped around the small of Javi’s back, ankles locking together to keep him as close and deep inside you as you could. 

“Dámelo, papi.” You cooed, wicked smile stretched from ear to ear watching Javi physically having to stop himself to let out a strangled groan, clenching his jaw and scrunching his face to keep from busting right then and there.  

“Jesus, fuck-” Javi grunted, finally gaining enough composure to open his eyes and look back down at you beneath him, smugly smirking, “That’s how this is gonna go, huh?"

The chocolate brown of Javi’s eyes began to darken with lust, dragging his cock out and ramming into you so deeply, a pathetic whimper fell from your lips, nearly knocking the wind out of your chest feeling him practically in your stomach. Your whimpers quickly turned to sobs as he did it again, slowly dragging his length out of your wet, warm walls before pounding back in to you with a blinding intensity. 

Leaning down, Javi grabbed your arms, pushing them outstretched above your head until your wrists were crossed over each other and Javi had them both in his firm grasp, pinning you to the bed with the weight of his body and grip. It was like something feral had ignited inside him, brow furrowed and teeth gritted with a laser focus, snapping his hips to thrust himself deeper and harder, melting you to a helpless puddle beneath him, your cries of pleasure and desperation only egging him on more. 

“You want me to fill you up, baby? Then you’re gonna be a good girl and take every last fucking drop. Every. Last. One.” He huffed, syncing his words to each thrust, keeping a bruising grip over your wrists with one hand, and digging his fingertips into the meat of your hips with his other. “Tell me what you’re gonna do for me, baby girl. Tell me whose pussy this is.” 

“It’s yours, Javi. Fuck, fuck, fuck- it’s yours, baby! I- oh shit- I promise I’ll be a good girl and take it all. Want you to fill me up, Papi.” You sobbed, arousal seeping through your veins as Javi’s cock punched against your g-spot over and over, each stroke faster and more intense, blinding your body with pleasure. 

Your hotel room was drenched in the borderline pornographic sounds of skin slapping against skin, wet squelching of your pussy squeezing Javi’s cock tighter and tighter as you could feel the coil beginning to tighten in your stomach, crying out without any inhibition for your volume, Javi grunting and panting with equal intensity. 

“That’s my girl. You gonna let everyone hear who this pussy belongs to? Let everyone know that I’m gonna fill you up and get you pregnant?” Javi mewled, watching the way your eyes were nearly rolling in the back of your head, snaking his hand gripping your hip down between your bodies to rub firm and frantic circles around your clit to help push you over the edge knowing how close you were. 

As soon as the calloused pads of Javi’s fingers were pressed against your sensitive nub, you were seconds away from the brink of collapse, cunt clamping tighter and tighter around Javi’s cock, choking it with your velvety walls. 

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck, fuck, I’m so close baby. Don’t stop, don’t stop, please, fuckfuckfuckfuck!” 

Instantly, your orgasm crashed through your body, blinding white heat flooding your vision, pleasure shooting through every inch of you to the point you felt like you had left your own body. You could feel your body going limp beneath Javi, knowing he wasn’t far behind you given all his tell tale signs as you soaked his length with your arousal. 

Javi’s thrusts had forgone any type of rhythm, now sloppy and erratic, his balls tightening and tensing in his stomach, babbling and moaning in your ear, whispering sweet nothings before he found himself in the same state of you. 

“That’s it, hermosa. Cum all over my cock. Cum all over me before I fill up this tight little pussy so full it’s got no choice but to take. Oh fuck- Fuck, can’t wait to get you pregnant. See you carrying our baby. Gonna make you the prettiest fucking Momma-ahhhhhhh, fuck!” 

With one final stutter of his hips, Javi was painting the inside of your cunt with thick, warm ropes of his spend, keeping himself flushed as tight as he could to your pelvis, making sure a single drop didn’t escape as he plugged you with his cock, cumming so hard he couldn’t help but whimper. The weight of his body slumped on top of you, syncing your heavy breaths, the sticky and sweaty sheen of your chests pressed together as Javi planted a slow and sensual kiss on your lips, swallowing your moans in his mouth. 

“Holy fuck.” You half whispered to yourself, letting out a bliss-filled giggle.

“Jesus Fucking Christ.” Javi panted, quietly laughing along with you, gently brushing the damp and wild strands of your hair out of your face, “Fuck- You gotta be careful with that “Papi” shit, Osita.” 

“Oh yeah? And why would that be?” You teased, smirking as you raised an eyebrow at him and bit down on your lip, knowing damn well why. 

“Because if you keep that up, I don’t think we’re ever leaving this room.” 

After dinner and giving a few more pieces of furniture in your hotel room a good test run, the two of you had happily called it a night on day one of your honeymoon, eager to explore the rest of the resort as the two of you rose with the golden rays of the sun beaming over the horizon of your ocean view window, flooding your room with warm and welcoming sunlight. 

As much as the both of you were convinced you could have easily spent the next 10 days without leaving your hotel room, you made a pact that you would spend some time going to explore the rest of the resort after spending some much deserved post-wedding de-stressing in the sun by the pool, drinking as many mojitos and frozen daiquiris as you could stomach. 

And as amazing as non-stop sex with Javi would have been, soaking up in the sun poolside with a drink on one side of you and a shirtless husband on the other, you’d say that this was a pretty close second. 

“Another one?” Javi smirked, eyebrows raised at you as his brown eyes peeked over the edge of his aviators, gesturing at your nearly empty glass. 

“I mean… if you’re offering.” You giggled, tipsy after a few drinks and hours baking in the sun, happily holding out the remainder of your mojito for Javi to exchange for a new one. 

“I think the bartender and I are about to be on a first name basis pretty soon.” Javi laughed, shuffling out of his beach chair, grabbing his empty cup along with yours to bring back with him to the poolside bar that had been visited a questionable amount of times by the two of you since you had gotten to the pool this morning. 

“Yeah? Are you gonna tell the bartender the frozen strawberry margaritas you’ve been getting from him all day are for you and not for your wife?” You teased, pulling your sunglasses down to look at Javi, playfully rolling his eyes back at you. 

“Shut up. They’re fucking addicting. You had one, can you blame me?” 

“I’m just giving you a hard time, Mr. I Won’t Drink Anything But Beer and Whiskey. Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. Although, I’m sure Steve would get a kick out of knowing you’ve downed like, 7 of these since we’ve gotten here.” 

Setting down both of the drinks, you found yourself in a fit of squeals and giggles as Javi reached down to scoop you up out of your chair, carrying you bridal style to the edge of the pool before jumping in with the both of you, the refreshing cool of the pool water crashing over you as your bodies bobbed under the surface. 

“Pendejo!” You laughed, splashing Javi as your heads peered above the edge of the water, Javi shaking his hair, damp and clinging to his forehead from your added assault, grabbing you by the waist before you could go any further, shifting you to wrap your legs around him as he held you, childishly swaying you through the water. 

“Te amo, esposa.” (I love you, wife) Javi teased in a mocking tone, responding to your name calling. 

“Joke’s on you, because I wanted to get into the pool anyways. You’re lucky you’re handsome. Mojito me, Peña.” You splashed again, rolling your eyes at his over exaggerated kiss before he swam away, shooting you a wink while he waded his way to the poolside bar. 

It wasn’t long before Javi was making his way back, a drink in each hand, happily handing you your mojito as he got to the edge of the pool where you were sitting, lifting himself up to sit beside you and take a swig of his margarita. 

“Miss me?” He smirked, raising his eyebrows at you. 

“Terribly. Most agonizing 6 minutes of my entire life.” You teased, playing into the dramatics as Javi picked up your left hand, admiring the diamond ring and wedding band adorned on your finger before gently kissing it. 

“Sorry to keep my wife waiting. I hope that you’ll accept this mojito as a token of my apology.” 

“I think that’s a fair enough compromise.” 

After a few more hours and several drinks later, it was safe to say that you and Javi had definitely both been in better states than you currently were, too far gone to care about the potential consequences of tomorrow’s hangover to stop yourselves. 

“What time do you think it is?” You asked, sunkissed body sprawled out across the pool chair. 

“Wife O’Clock.” Javi answered, snickering to himself at his answer. 

“Javier Peña, that’s not a real time, you dork.” 

“Half past mojito. A quarter ‘til my next margarita.” 

“Jesus Christ….” You paused, one of the life guards crossing behind you catching your attention, “Hey, excuse me! Do you know what time it is?” 

“Uhhhhh, looks like it’s almost 6!” The lifeguard replied, looking down at his watch before continuing on his path. 

“6?! Oh shit!” You gasped, sitting up straight in your chair. 

“What? What’s happening at 6?!” Javi inquired, seemingly less concerned with whatever was supposed to be happening then that had you so riled up. 

“Javi, we're supposed to be at dinner right now! We made reservations at that italian place, remember?!” You grimaced, frantically starting to grab the towels and clothes you had scattered around the pool deck. 

“Oh fuck! Shit, uh- okay, here, lemme help you!” Javi joined in on the gathering of any item that belonged to you that he could find, tossing it into the bag you had brought down with you, hoping that you didn’t forget anything that had come with you to the pool. 

While the haphazard gathering of items was a good enough sign to any onlooker that you and Javi were more than likely intoxicated, the both of you didn’t realized just how drunk you were until you both tried to stand up out of your beach chairs, grabbing on to each other in a wobbly dance of giggles.  

“Woah, I think I drank a little lotta margaritas.” Javi stammered, laughing to himself. 

“Fuck, I did too. Jesus, how many do you think we had?” You giggled, face scrunching in anticipation of the number that was definitely going to be higher than you had intended when you came to the pool this morning. 

You could see Javi trying to drunkenly calculate his trips to the pool bar in his head, counting across his fingers in a serious concentration, tongue sticking out of his mouth, as if it was going to help him focus better. 

“Let’s see, I think after adding them all up… We drank a lot.” 

“If we can’t even come up with a number, that’s not good. Fuck, I didn’t even bring real clothes! Our room is so far from the restaurant, there’s no way we’re even gonna be close to making it!” You pouted, shrugging your shoulders in defeat. 

“Just put on the cute little dressy thingy over your bathing suit. Or just go in your bikini. You’re so hot they have to let you in.” Javi smirked, biting down on his lip as he looked you up and down, giving you his best drunken attempt at his bedroom eyes. 

“Unfortunately for you, I don’t think the other patrons of this resort want to watch me eat pasta half naked, ya sicko.” You teased, giving him a nudge to his stomach a little harder than you had intended. “Okay, cover up will have to do, I guess. Do you have your shirt?” 

“You don’t wanna watch me eat pasta half naked?” 

“As much as I’d love to, maybe another time, weirdo. Okay, we have to go! Or else we’re not getting any pasta, naked or not! Focus, Peña, focus!” You commanded in your best pretend stern voice, grabbing the rest of your things in your hands while Javi stood there, admiring you like the drunken, lovesick fool he was. 

“You’re so fucking sexy when you’re bossy.” Javi smirked, raising his eyebrows at you, “Okay, fine, fine fine, let’s go. Lead the way, Mrs. Peña.” 

If you didn’t feel drunk enough after simply trying just to stand up out of your pool chairs and collect all your belongings within a 5 foot radius of you, you sure as hell did trying to drunkenly navigate the resort to find the restaurant you were looking for. After asking several employees, you somehow managed to stumble your way through the hotel to find your intended location, “Ciao!” , one of the higher-end dining experiences the two of you had planned for your vacation. 

“Hi. We are married, and we are here to eat pasta.” Javi proclaimed to the hostess at the front of the restaurant, who was looking back and forth between you and Javi, riddled with confusion not only by Javi’s opening statement, but from the fact the two of you were nearly out of breath from running around every inch of the resort, clearly drunk, and still dressed in your swimsuits. 

“Ummmm, okay? What’s the name on the reservation?” The hostess asked hesitantly, flipping through the pages of names and times written down for seating tonight. 

“Peña. We were supposed to be here at 6 but we had a lil too much fun at the pool, but not enough fun that we completely forgot about dinner! We’re really sorry!” You explained, trying your best to keep your composure, biting your tongue to subdue your drunken giggles. 

“Yeah, like, so sorry. I had a lot of margaritas today.” Javi added, turning his head to let out a little burp at the end of his sentence. 

“I don’t see any Peña’s on the reservation for tonight….” The hostess sighed, flipping back and forth between today’s pages, clearly not amused by either of your antics. 

“Oh no… Does that mean we’re not getting pasta? Shit.” Javi pouted, crossing his arms over his chest like a little boy. 

“Oh wait, are- are you sure it was a reservation for today? I see Peña on here at 6 for tomorrow?” 

“Oh shit…” You and Javi replied, nearly in sync, visibly grimacing at the fact that you had spent the past 45 minutes in an alcohol induced frenzy, running through the resort to find a restaurant you weren’t even supposed to eat at until tomorrow. 

Whoops. 

“My bad….” You shrugged, sheepishly frowning as you looked back and forth between the hostess and Javi, “Okay, well, um, we’re gonna- We’re gonna go then.” You winced, grabbing Javi by the hand to slowly drag him away from the restaurant, hoping that the physical distance would somehow spare you the embarrassment you had just subjected yourself to. 

“You’re fine, just- We do ask that our guests wear more, um- appropriate attire when they come to dine with us.” The hostess scoffed, huffing at you and Javi, looking you up and down with your beach bound outfits and hands full of pool accessories as you continued to back away. 

“She doesn’t wanna see us eat pasta in our bathing suits?” Javi whispered in your ear, making you snort so loud it almost hurt your chest, trying to keep from bursting into full blown laughter before making it out of eye and earshot of the hostess, jabbing him in the stomach with your elbow, only spurring him on further, “She doesn’t know how sexy you’d look shoving a fist full of garlic bread down your throat with nothing on but a bikini? Her loss.” 

Now out of sight of the restaurant, you and Javi exploded into an obnoxious fit of drunken giggles, feeling completely idiotic for wasting nearly the last hour of your night in a whirlwind journey to nowhere. 

“Well, looks like no pasta for dinner tonight.” You sighed, playfully throwing up your hands in defeat. “I am starting to get really hungry though… Like too hungry to go back up to the room and change and then come back down and wait at a restaurant for more food.” 

“Yeah, shit, I’m really hungry too… Wait!” Javi paused, his face lighting up with excitement. 

“What, Jav?” 

“Didn’t we pass a pizza place on the way up to the room when we first got here? 

The grin on your face was now equally as wide, almost certain that you and Javi were having the same drunk recollection. 

“I knew there was a good reason I married you.” 

Somehow or another, you had not only managed to find your way to “Papa’s Pizzeria”, you had managed to successfully order an extra large pizza for the two of you to split, and make it back to the room without any pizza casualties on the way. 

Even a drunken you couldn’t help but realize how lucky she was to have married a man like Javi, and not just because of his excellent memory for pizza restaurants- What you had been through in the past hour and a half could have easily sent any other couple into an ugly spiral of arguments and blame they’d cast upon each other for “ruining” the rest of their night. 

You’d been witness to so many relationships and marriages where couples barely managed to genuinely enjoy each other’s company, let alone have fun together. Cohabitation drenched in resentment and unhappiness towards each other, forced proximity the only thing keeping them together.  

You were positive that there would never be enough “thank you’s” that you could send out into the universe for letting you marry your best friend. 

Because what would have been a soiled evening for so many others, was quickly turning out to be a better night than you could have ever imagined, plans tossed out the window to sit cross legged in your king sized bed together, bodies draped in fluffy hotel robes as you mowed down on slices of pepperoni pizza, giggling over shared, drunken secrets with your favorite person in the world. 

“Okay, your turn now.” You snickered, shoving another bite of lukewarm pizza into your mouth, giving Javi a playful shove into the sea of pillows at the head of your bed. 

“I just went!” He protested, trying to talk through the mess of cheese, sauce and crust he was still chewing. 

“Nuh uh! I just did, remember? We got off topic because we started talking about the Farrah Fawsect poster you had in your room that your mom made you take down, but you were the one who asked me about who my first celebrity crush was, remember?” You insisted, pointing your half bitten piece of pizza at him, forcing him to hold up his hands in defeat. 

“Okay, okay! Can’t blame me for forgetting after thinking about that poster, though.” Javi shrugged, smirking at the thought of his 12 year old self gawking at the beautiful blonde actress hanging above his bed, “Shit…. Gimmie a second, let me think.” 

“I’ve given you plenty of seconds, goofball! Like all the seconds I spared you thinking about Farrah.” 

“Shut up. Okay,” he paused, taking another bite of pizza, “who was your first kiss?” 

“Really? Why, you gonna go hunt him down?” You snorted, feeling like you were gossiping with your teenage best friend at a sleepover rather than with your husband, Javi laughing along with you as he shook his head, “It was Jack Mullins in the 7th grade.” 

“Okay, and?” Javi prodded, smirking as he interrogated you for more information. 

“It was at a Halloween Party my friend Sarah had at her house. I’m pretty sure we were playing truth or dare, and all my friends knew I had a massive crush on him because he was the cutest boy in the 7th grade. So they dared me to kiss him and I did it. It was so awkward, and I had no idea what I was doing. Pretty sure we kissed while the “The Monster Mash” was playing, too. I was so embarrassed after that I cried in the bathroom and then walked home and didn’t even say goodbye to anyone. Didn’t ever think I’d speak to him again and he ended up being my date to prom.” 

“Wow. That was a way better story than I was expecting to get. “The Monster Mash”? Truth or Dare?” Javi chuckled as your cheeks turned red, watching your eyes at his enjoyment of your story. 

“Okay, I was 12 Javi, some of us were weird, awkward teenagers. I’m sure that you were very easily the Jack Mullins of your middle school and had girls at the door lining up to kiss you.” You rebutted, having seen plenty of pictures of teenage Javi, thanks to Chucho, knowing whatever awkward phase he went through was only a fraction of your pre-teen pain. 

“No, I wasn’t. I was a pretty shy kid. All my friends had their first kiss way before I did.”  Javi shrugged, now sounding slightly more embarrassed. 

“Okay, so what? They were 12 and you were 13? I don’t believe it. I would have had the biggest crush on you in middle school.” 

“I’m being serious!”  

C’mon, Javi, if I’m telling you about my Monster Mash kiss, I get to hear about yours!” You insisted, giving him the biggest fake pout that you could muster until he gave in. 

“I- I was 16 when I had my first kiss.” 

“You’re joking.” 

“Why would I joke about that?” 

“16?!” 

“Osita, you’re making it sound like I was 72 when I had my first kiss, not 16.” 

“Considering how cute you were, yeah, I am! Okay, spill! Now I need to know!” 

“I’m telling you, I was a shy kid. Didn’t really come out of my shell until 10th grade when I started doing swimming. There was a girl on the team I always thought was really cute, but I was too chicken shit to do anything about it. All my friends had girlfriends and dates to go to homecoming with, and I didn’t have anyone, so they forced me to ask her. She turned me down, told me she already had a date. I was devastated. Went to a party with the team after, got drunk for the first time because I was so upset, and ended up kissing my friend’s older sister, Katie. Made out in the laundry room in the basement for the rest of the night. My friend found us after he realized we both had gone missing and ended up punching me in the face and almost breaking my nose.” 

“Holy shit. That’s a way better story than mine.” You gawked, eyes going wide at the turn Javi’s story had taken. 

“I wouldn’t say way better, just stupid.” Javi huffed, “You do dumb things when you’re young.” 

“Well, you must have been a pretty good kisser even back then if she made out with you for an hour. Honestly, would have been dumb if she didn’t make out with you, in my humble opinion.” You giggled, scooting closer to Javi as you snuggled into his lap, resting your head on his outstretched thigh and letting out a big yawn. Resting his hand on your back, Javi pulled you closer, running his fingers through the sun kissed ends of your messy hair, smiling at all the tell tale signs sleep was beginning to creep through your body and the way you snuggled up next to him. 

“Okay, one last question because all these mojitos are catching up to me and I’m getting sleepy.” You mumbled, feeling your eyelids begin to droop as you curled up in the warmth of his body, comfort flooding over you from Javi’s presence. 

“Okay, hermosa. Your turn.” Javi cooed, his voice softening to match your sleepy tone, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. 

“If you could change anything about your life, anything you want, what would it be?” 

Javi paused for a moment, his fingers still daintily stroking across your hair and back as he thought. Truthfully, there were plenty of things he wished he could change about his past. It would take him less than a minute to come up with a list longer than most people could muster in a lifetime. He had wasted so many years of his life, bitter and remorseful about the things he had done, condemning himself to suffer the consequences of his actions. And yet, somehow, despite all of the things he could have said, out of all the painful things he wished he could go back in time to change, there was one answer that prevailed above all the rest, an answer that couldn’t have been easier to choose.  

“I wish there was a world where I would have met you sooner. That I would have gotten to love you just a little longer.” 

He waited for your response, settling into the silence until it was broken by one of your soft snores humming against his thigh, signaling to him you were sound asleep in his lap, not having heard a word you said. He laughed softly to himself, remembering the first night he had stayed at your apartment, and how it had ended just like this, conversation flowing until the early hours of the morning until you couldn’t fight sleep any longer, eyelids shutting as you fell asleep in his arms. How he watched you gently drift to dreaming, wondering if he was, too. That somehow, some way, the world had managed to bring the two of you together. And even if he wished he would have gotten more time to love you before you’d met, Javi knew that he’d be forever grateful for every minute he had left with you. 

Despite the raging hangover the two of you had the next morning after you woke up from your alcohol and pizza induced coma, the rest of your honeymoon had been some of the most fun that the two of you had had in years. You’d spent multiple days at the pool, soaking up sun on the beach and swimming in the ocean, eaten so much delicious food you were convinced you were going to combust, drank more mojitos than you’d like to admit, and had even gone snorkeling on a tour through some of the islands outside your resort. 

You also had been having so much sex, you were starting to feel bad for the rooms on either side of you. 

Everything about your honeymoon had been everything you’d ever hoped for and more, but with only one full day left of your vacation, you couldn’t help but feel a little sad that your perfect trip to tropical paradise was coming to a close. 

“What’s that look for, porbrecita?” Javi laughed, sneaking up behind you on the edge of the balcony, watching you watch the sunrise with your cheeks propped up in your palms, pouting at the way bright pinks and oranges were greeting the sky. Standing behind you, he snaked his arms around your front so he could bring your back to his chest, kissing the top of your head while his arms settled around your middle. 

“I don’t want our honeymoon to end.” You sighed, craning your neck just enough to look at Javi over your shoulder, “I’m sad it’s gonna be over.” 

“I know, mi amor, me too.” He softly chuckled, planting a long kiss on your cheek, the whiskers of his mustache making you giggle, “But what if I told you I have one more surprise for us before we go home tomorrow?” 

This made you swing all the way around, now chest to chest with Javi as you looked up at him in confusion, “What? I thought we were spending our last day on the beach just hanging out?” 

“Well we are, but what if I told you I rented one of those fancy cabanas at the end of the beach for us to use to celebrate our last day here?” Javi smirked, watching your face light up at his proposition. 

“Wait, actually?” 

“Yes, actually.” 

“But aren’t they like, super expensive to rent for the day?” 

“I mean… they’re not that expensive.” 

“Okay, the pause tells me that you spent way more money than you needed to on this, Jav.” 

“And what if it was? I’m not allowed to wanna spoil my wife on our honeymoon?” Javi grinned, gently cupping your face and playfully shaking it, making you laugh again. 

“Your wife doesn’t need to be spoiled, just getting to be here with you is more than enough.” You paused, giving Javi a little nudge as he dramatically rolled his eyes at you, chuckling to himself, “What, you goof?” 

“I hope you know that because you’re my wife, I’m planning on spending the rest of my life spoiling you, whether you like it or not. I’d give you the fucking moon if I could, Osita.” 

“Well lucky for you, a day at a beach cabana will do just fine.” 

While you never would have asked Javi to purposely spend extra money on things you really didn’t need to make your trip any more special than it already was, you couldn’t deny that spending the day in your own private cove of the beach in a luxurious cabana with food and drinks being served to you at your request wasn’t a bad way to spend the last day of your honeymoon. 

The daybeds in the cabana had made a perfect place for a shady, mid day nap for the both of you, lazily waking up from the soft kiss Javi had planted on your shoulder, exposed from your bikini top, freckled and sunkissed from days in the tropics. 

“I’m gonna go for a swim, Hermosa. Be back in a sec.” Javi cooed, gently stirring you from your catnap. 

“Mmmmmmkay.” You smiled, flipping over for another kiss on the lips before Javi slipped out from the flaps of your tent, softly blowing in the breeze. You sat up on your lounger, the sight of Javi in nothing but his bathing suit waking you from your brief sleep in a matter of moments. 

Even though you had seen Javi in nothing but bathing suits for the past 9 days, you were convinced it was a sight you’d never find yourself getting over. There was no doubt that you had always found him incredibly attractive, but something about this trip had skyrocketed him to another level of sexy you didn’t even know was attainable. You weren’t sure if it was the unbuttoned floral shirts, excessive time spent shirtless, his messy and wet beach hair, or just the fact that now you got to call him your husband- truthfully, it was most likely a combination of all of the above. 

You perked up, pulling back the fabric door of the cabana enough to watch Javi’s arms stroke through the ocean, popping his head above water with a brief shake before he was shallow enough to touch the sandy bottom again. As he sauntered in from the ocean, you couldn’t help but admire the width of his shoulders and chest, glistening from the sun and salty water. You let your gaze travel down to his swim trunks, feeling your mouth water at the way they hugged his waist and crept up his thick thighs. With each step closer to shore, you couldn’t stop staring at the way his trunks were clinging to his lower half, perfectly outlining his generous length. 

Javi must have noticed the way you were staring at him by the subtle smirk that had broken out across his face as he approached the cabana, eyeing you up and down right back. 

“You have a good swim?” You asked, feeling your stomach swirl as you took in every inch of him, glowing in the sunlight. 

“Mhmm. Did you have fun watching me swim?” He teased, tongue tracing over his teeth while he raised his eyebrows, knowing damn well the effect he was having on you. 

“Maybe. What, I’m not allowed to enjoy the view? Not my fault my husband is so handsome.” Your smirk was almost as wide as his, biting down on your bottom lip as Javi entered the cabana, letting the flap to the entrance close behind him before caging your body under his on the lounge chair, trailing hot, wet, kisses across your chest and stomach. 

“Say it again.” He mewled, looking up at you with his big, brown eyes as his kisses trailed lower and lower, watching as he began to settle himself at the edge of the chair between your thighs. 

“My husband is so handsome. You’re so handsome, Javi.” You sighed, feeling the damp patch in your swimsuit bottoms growing, soaking the fabric with your slick and arousal. 

“You’re so fucking good to me. Fuck, I’m so lucky.” He groaned, slinging your thighs over his shoulders, eyes still locked on you while he began to tug at the strings of your bikini, leaving your bottom half bare. 

There was a part of you that knew you should be worried about someone catching the two of you, barely concealed by the flimsy confines of your cabana, but the part of you staring at your husband between your legs about to eat you out seemed a lot more convinced that this was the best idea Javi had all day. 

“You’re so fucking perfect. Everything about you. I’m the goddamn luckiest man alive, you know that baby?” 

Your response to his question was nothing but a ragged moan, feeling him draping his arm over your hips to hold you in place as he slid two fingers into your heat. He curled his hand to reach the spot inside you he knew made you crumble before diving back in between your legs, beginning to lick you up like a man starved.

His tongue swirled against your clit, the firmness of each stroke and the deep press of his fingers making you writhe under his touch, shooting your hand down to grab fistfulls of his damp, curly locks to brace yourself as he ate you out relentlessly.

“Oh my god, fuck, Javi. Fuck, you feel so good. Fuck-” 

You could feel him switching tactics, latching his lips around your sensitive nub, rapidly sucking at the throbbing bundle of nerves, working his fingers deeper in your cunt as he felt you begin to clench around him. 

“Fuck Javi, fuck, right there baby- fuck, I’m close.” Your fingers were buried so deep in his curls, tugging just enough to pull his face closer to you as you could feel your orgasm building at the base of your spine, desperate for him to give you your sweet release. 

His thick fingers bumped along your g-spot, curving them ever so slightly in the way he had memorized like the back of his hand to make you come undone. The tingle along your spine quickly spread down your legs, pleasure building rapidly throughout your body as you felt yourself on the edge of release. Lifting his arm off your waist, he reached up to grab your hand laying out on the lounge chair, engulfing it in his grasp as he intertwined his fingers with yours. 

“Dameló, (give it to me) sweet girl. Let go, baby, I’ve got you.” 

You could feel the pressure inside you snap, the tingling in your veins quickly transforming into full blown pleasure as your orgasm swept through you. You gushed around his hand, cunt clenching down on his fingers as you came, losing all sense of inhibitions as you cried out with a volume much louder than intended. 

But with Javi’s fingers still curled, prodding against your g-spot, you had a feeling those cries weren’t coming to a halt any time soon. It was only moments after your orgasm had finished he was already on a mission to give you another, tongue lapping up every ounce of your slick as it pressed against your clit. 

“Javi, holy shit, baby, oh fuck.” You whined, bucking your hips towards his face and arching your back as he circled around your bundle of nerves, your moans and whimpers only egging him on more. 

Even after all this time, there was a part of you that still couldn’t believe how fast Javi could make you cum. He had memorized every twitch, every tug of his hair, every breathy whisper to know what made you fall apart under his touch, loving every second of watching you come undone for him. 

You could already feel the tingling of your next orgasm beginning to creep up your legs and into your stomach as Javi sucked at your clit, greedy for him to help you hit your second high. 

“Please don’t stop, Javi. Fuck baby, fuck, fuck, I- ahhhhhhhhh.” That was all it took before you could feel the waves of pleasure rushing through your body again, your pussy throbbing as your orgasm flooded over you. 

Your legs were all but jello at this point, trembling around Javi’s head, still buried between them. Your last two orgasms had been so intense, you weren’t sure you could take a third, but with the way Javi knew your body, you also were convinced it would barely take anything for you to cum again. 

“J-Javi- fuck, baby, fuck I can’t-”   

“Gimme one more, Osita. C’mon, sweet girl. Wanna make my wife cum one more time.” You nodded, looking down at the shine of your arousal covering his smirk, knowing that at this point, you were so worked up and overstimulated that just the fingers already inside of you really were all you needed to give him your last orgasm. 

Javi’s fingers had already sunk so deep into your cunt, already so overly sensitive to every push and pull of his hand, that the grip you had on his hand had become so tight, you could feel your knuckles turning white. You cried out his name as it fell from your lips, babbling incoherently as the third rush of pleasure crashed over you, gushing onto Javi’s fingers.  

“That’s my good girl. My perfect fucking wife. I love you so much.” Javi carefully pulsed his fingers a few more times as he felt you clench around him, making you hiss as he withdrew his hand now soaked in your slick, bringing the digits to his fingers to suck them clean with a satisfied smirk. 

It was only moments before his sly grin had quickly shifted to full blown panic, you, still too blissed out to wonder why he was scrambling to throw a towel over your bottom half and one to hide the erection under his as he sat himself in the chair next to you. Thank god Javi still at least had an ounce of inhibition left to see the footsteps of the server who had been periodically checking in on you strolling their way through the sand under the edge of the cabana, saving you both from what could have been an incredible amount of embarrassment. 

“Hi, how are you two doing? Anything else I can get for you right now?” Your server asked, peeking his head in through the flaps to see you and Javi trying your best to act as natural as possible. 

“N-no, I’m good. You good, honey? Need anything?” Javi asked, looking over at you as his hand ran over the back of his neck, trying his best not to grimace at the awkward tension stewing between him, you and your poor, unsuspecting server. 

“You know what, I think I’m gonna have another drink.” 

“Alright! Another mojito for you, ma’am?” Your server asked, whipping out his pad of paper to note down your order. 

“No, can you make this next one a Sex on the Beach? That sounds really good.” 

It truly took everything in Javi not to burst out laughing, choking on his own spit at your perfectly timed order, shaking his head at you in a humorous disbelief. 

“Perfect, well I’ll be right back with your drink!” 

“Thank you so much!” 

Once your server had disappeared, you and Javi erupted in hyena like laughter, the combination of your joke and almost fatal timing throwing the two of you into a fit of giggles. 

“You’re fucking ridiculous, you know that?” Javi chuckled, looking over at you as he shook his head. 

“What? It’s our last day, figured we might as well have a little sex on the beach. The drink sounds like it’ll be good, too.” 

Your mid-afternoon flight had made for an easy morning to pack up and soak in the last little bit of your honeymoon. It had given you just enough time to enjoy your favorite breakfast place, and have one more of the best blueberry waffles you’d ever tasted before your last shower (and shower sex) to get ready for your departure home. 

While you were sad your vacation had come to an end, there was no denying that every last bit of your trip was absolutely perfect, and even more so that you got to spend it with the most perfect person you could think of. You were convinced you could have gone anywhere in the world for your honeymoon and you would have felt the same- in the end, it wasn’t the destination that mattered, it was the fact you got to spend it with your husband. 

The fact that you got to spend every vacation together for the rest of your lives only made it that much sweeter. 

While flying would never be enjoyable, you were thankful your trip home was fairly painless, granting Javi’s hand some grace, considering you didn’t feel the need to keep it in an iron grip for the two hours it took you to arrive back home. 

You were also thankful that it was Steve and Connie who had offered to pick you up from the airport instead of Chucho, sparing you and Javi the same sort of awkward embarrassment you had endured on the ride to start off your honeymoon. 

Well, it may not been the same kind of embarrassment that you had experienced with Javi’s dad, but it was foolish of you to think that Steve was letting you get away scott free. 

At least he had managed to get creative with it, making a greeting poster with “Welcome home, lovebirds!” on it to help you find him and Connie in the airport crowd, making Javi let out a sigh loud enough that Steve probably could have heard it from the tarmac. 

“Hey! There they are! Welcome home, Mr. and Mrs. Peña!” Steve grinned, pulling you and Javi in for a hug as you found him, Connie following suit with a much less dramatic greeting for the both of you afterwards. 

“How was the honeymoon? Did you guys have a great time?” Connie asked, offering to take one of your suitcases, nudging Steve to do the same. “ 

“It was really nice. It was everything we could have hoped for. The resort was beautiful, the food was great, and the weather was fantastic. It really was perfect.” You smiled, looking up at Javi, nodding in agreement, reaching out to wrap his arm over your shoulder. 

“Thanks again for picking us up.” Javi chimed in, the two of you now following along behind your friends as they began leading you through the airport towards their car. 

“Don’t mention it, Jav. Least we could do.” Steve replied, reaching out to give Javi a little punch to the arm. 

“We’re super excited to hear all about your trip!” Connie added, looking back at you and Javi with a genuine grin. 

“Excited to hear if I’m gonna make good on my bet…” Steve muttered, laughing under his breath. 

“Steve! Seriously? You promised in the car you weren’t gonna bring this up!” Connie huffed, giving her husband a slap to the chest, and a grimace that clearly was the silent way to ask “Will you please shut up?” 

“What?! I put good money on it, I’m confident!” 

“Wait, is this the same bet that Javi’s dad was talking about on the way here?” You asked, looking back and forth between Javi, Steve and Connie in confusion, perplexed as to what you and Javi had to do with whatever bet he and the Murphy’s were in on. 

“Go ahead, Steve! Why don’t you explain?” Connie scolded, hands on her hips as she stared down her husband in all his big mouthed glory. 

“You bet on it, too!” Steve retorted, holding his hands up in defense, pointing at Connie to claim her as part of the guilty party to whatever was going on.

“What the fuck are you guys talking about?” Javi asked, trying to cut to the chase of whatever cryptic game they were playing. 

“After y’all left on your wedding night, we- shit, this does sound kinda bad when you say it to their face, huh?” Steve paused, letting out a huff as he turned back to Connie, grimacing in agreement, “Us and your family and your dad made a bet.” 

“A bet on…” You led, waiting for your answer. 

Steve sighed again, hands on his hips as he stared at the ground before looking back up at you and Javi, “A bet on how quick it would take after the wedding until the two of you announced you were pregnant.” 

You didn’t even want to know how red your face was turning, but judging by the sudden pink flush of Javi’s cheeks, you had no doubt you looked exactly the same, if not worse. 

“To be fair, your dad was the one who started it!” Steve exclaimed, pointing at Javi to let him know he wasn’t to blame for his friend’s embarrassment before shifting his finger to point at you, “And your brothers were the one who said we should make it a bet! I just wanted in on it!” 

“Jesus fucking christ.” Javi sighed, face in his palm as he rubbed his temples with the pads of his fingers. 

“I hope now you know we’re not gonna have kids just to spite all of you.” You teased, crossing your arms over your chest as you tilted your head at Steve. It was enough to catch Javi’s attention, eyes going wide that there was even a shred of you being serious, laughing to yourself as you watched the relief flush over him when you shook your head at your own joke. 

“Yeah, okay, whatever you say.” Steve chuckled, his voice oozing with sarcasm, simply shrugging before turning back around to continue your journey to the parking garage. 

Javi took his free hand, intertwining it with yours and giving it a gentle squeeze as the two of you trailed behind the Murphy’s soft smile on his face that despite his friends and families bet revolved around your sex life, there was a very real possibility that sooner rather than later, someone was bound to make their fifty bucks. 

“What’d you bet?” Javi asked, feeling entitled to know how Steve had gambled after he’d spilled the beans on his little wager. 

“Well, let’s see, y’all got married at the end of July, so July to August, August to September,” Steve paused, doing the quick math on his fingers as he calculated his answer, “9 months from now would be April, so I’ll be damned if you’re not tellin’ us your havin’ a baby by the fall and it’s here by the spring. And I know for a fact neither of y’all would be mad about that one bit.” 

And as much as you both hated to admit it, it was one of the few things in life that Steve Murphy was very, very right about. 

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem

@angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae

@kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadresa @milly-louise @jay-zzle

@the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper

@nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk

@msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler

@burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @pedr0swh0r3 @survivingandenduring

@javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[froggibus]

The Three Times You Share A Bed - Leon S Kennedy

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x reader

Genre: fluff, some light angst thrown in towards the end?

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: two times you sleep in leon's bed, and the one time he sleeps in yours

CW: roommate! Leon, kinda friends to lovers?, light angst, abandonment issues, paranoia, fear + insomnia, mentions of zombies, bedsharing, leon has intimacy issues (get therapy challenge)

OMG HAPPY RE4 RELEASE!!! I am SO excited to play once im done work this weekend! Leon looks so damn fine in the gameplay ive seen and i am going FERAL! pls no spoilers for anything new in the game! <3

RE4 remake spoiler free zone!! I have yet to play the remake so there are no spoilers in this!

————

The telltale clicking of a key in the door has you on your feet in seconds, abandoning the plush throw blanket on the couch. Before it even opens, you’re standing on the doormat. You feel a little silly, like a golden retriever waiting for its owner, but the shame is washed away when Leon steps through the door.

It’s been three weeks since you’ve last seen your roommate and best friend, and just as long since you last had company. He raises an eyebrow at the sight of you standing in front of him, the dark circles under his eyes becoming more prominent. 

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” He sighs and drops his backpack on the floor, locking the door behind him.

“How was it?”

You fight the urge to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders and inhale his scent, knowing that’s not what friends do. Still, the feeling is there and if he went in for it, you’d reciprocate in a heartbeat.

He opens the fridge and beams at the fully stocked drinks and snacks. He cracks open a can of cider and leans against the counter. “Long,” he admits, “way too long. And my nose is still burning from the smell of rotten flesh.” You crinkle your nose at the thought. Leon’s never been much of a talker and most of his work being classified didn’t help. Whenever something wasn’t top secret, though, you were sure to sit there and listen no matter how horrific the details were.

You settle in on the couch next to the agent, listening to him drone on about a zombie-like creature that had peeling flesh and fifty eyes. You could vividly picture it from his words alone, and the image of the creature sent a shiver up your spine.

Leon talks for hours, spilling every miniscule detail of every horror he encounters. You stay the whole time, nodding along. Leon laughs at the way you scrunch your face in disgust or close your eyes in fear. He hates how cute you are, but he can’t seem to stop telling you stories. After many hours and a few drinks between the two of you, he’s almost run out of stories to tell.

Leon pats your shoulder gently, collecting his cans from where he’d set them on the coffee table. “I need a shower,” he states. “I’ll see you tomorrow, y/n.”

“Go shower. You stink,” you joke and punch him in the ribs.

He feigns injury at your blow, pretending to suck in a breath like you’d really hurt him. He keeps up the facade the whole way to his bedroom, only leaving character when he shuts the door behind him.

It’s only when he’s disappeared that you realize how late it's gotten—and how dark. Even though your shared apartment is on the 19th floor, you can’t help but worry something is going to crawl through your window. You shake the thoughts away and get ready for bed, but every gust of wind and rustling of leaves makes you flinch.

You close your eyes and tug your comforter over your head, hoping that if there is something out there, it won’t know you’re there. You toss and turn for a while longer, staying dead quiet and pushing your fears away.

Finally, you can’t take it anymore. You take a deep breath, throw your comforter off of your shoulders, and sprint to Leon’s room. It’s like your brain is on autopilot—it knows exactly where to go to be safe.

You don’t knock on the door, instead quietly twisting the knob and slipping in through a crack in the door. Leon sits up as soon as your feet touch the wooden floor, eyes snapping towards your silhouette. He’s been a light sleeper ever since Racoon City, waking at the slightest of sounds.

He relaxes at the sight of you but only for a second. He glances at his digital clock, eyes widening at the time. “Y/n? What are you still doing up?”

“I-I couldn’t sleep…I feel like a flesh eating zombie is going to climb through my window and eat me.”

He chuckles. “That would be my fault.” He shuffles over in bed and pulls back the comforter. “You’re more than welcome to stay here for the night.”

You crawl into bed next to him, keeping as much distance between the two of you as possible. You can feel his body heat radiating through the blankets and smell his body wash on his skin. The feeling is new, yet so familiar it eases you instantly.

“Leon?”

He hums in response.

“Is it safer to sleep next to the window or the door? From like, a secret agent standpoint.”

“We’re on the 19th floor so window, but unless it's a hotel room, the door. You would more than likely hear it if they broke down the front door so you’d have more time to get out.”

You think for a second. “Can we switch places?”

“Honestly, y/n,” he laughs dryly, “the safest place to sleep right now is next to me.”

Your face warms at that and you nod, relaxing into his pillows. While you drift off to sleep, Leon watches over you. He knows nothing is going to come for you here, but he did promise to keep you safe, and he’ll keep that promise no matter what.

—

When you get home, you’re in a foul mood. You practically throw the groceries onto the counter before walking to your room and throwing yourself onto your bed. It’s been a long day. All of the stores were so busy you could hardly get through the aisles, and all of the people you encountered were rude.

Leon comes out of his room a few minutes later. Seeing the groceries abandoned on the counter, his first thought is to check on you. He doesn’t check on you, though. Not yet, anyway. He knows you’ll just be more upset if the frozen items melt and the milk sits out all night, so he sets out on putting them away.

After almost an hour of laying in your bed trying to recuperate after the day you’ve had, you’re snapped out of it by a text.

Leon: Come here, I have a surprise for you

You don’t feel like leaving your bed, but you force yourself out of it anyway. It’s not Leon you’re mad at. Leon is probably the only person in the world you don’t hate right now. You knock on his door softly, holding your arms behind your back.

“Come in!” He shouts.

You open the door, shuffling into his room and closing it behind you. Your jaw drops when you see a tray in the middle of his bed piled high with your favorite snacks, drinks and two wine glasses. Leon pats the spot next to him and you’re happy to oblige, relaxing onto the mattress.

“You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

He shrugs, pouring you a glass of wine. “It already seems like you had a bad day, I just wanted to do something to make it a little better for you.”

“Thank you.” He nods in acknowledgement, turning on his tv and handing you the remote. “You can choose the first movie. Just—maybe no zombies?”

You snort at that. Classic Leon, using his corny jokes to make light of even the worst of situations. You settle on an old favorite movie you love, handing the remote back to the blond and switching it for a wine glass.

Between your favorite movie, the delicious wine and your favorite snacks, your spirits are lifted in no time. One movie turns into two, and two turns into three. Soon enough, you’re dozing off in Leon’s bed.

He moves the tray of snacks and the glasses off of the bed to give you more room to sprawl out. Laying down next to you, he watches you sleep. A part of him wishes he could see this every night—the same sight he fantasizes about on even the hardest of missions.

He flicks off the lamp on his side table and settles in. “Good night, cutie,” he mumbles, knowing you’re far too deep in sleep to hear him.

—

You wake up in the middle of the night, moonlight streaming through the window and illuminating Leon’s bedroom. You’re still numb from sleep, your senses dulled just enough that it takes you a minute to realize that something is grabbing you. No, not grabbing—holding. 

You blink a few times. Leon is laying next to you, his chest pressed to your back, his arms around your waist. You can feel the slow beating of his heart and the heat coming off of his skin. He’s so close it overwhelms you, yet it’s all you’ve ever wanted.

You think about slipping away but you know what a light sleeper he is, and you don’t think you could handle it if he woke up and saw how close you were. You close your eyes and try to calm the beating in your heart so you can fall back asleep.

When you wake up again, Leon is gone. Your body feels cold where his once was. You sit up—is he showering? He can’t be, the bathroom door is open. You sit up, letting the blankets fall off of you. You swing your legs over the side of his bed, walking out to the kitchen, but he’s not there either.

Did he leave to go get something? 

You check your phone, expecting to see a text saying he ran out to go get more milk or something, but there’s nothing. You sigh, typing up a message and sending it to him.

Y/N: where’d you go?

You practically jump when your phone lets out a noise, but your heart sinks when you see what it is.

Message Not Delivered. Try Again?

You sigh. That can only mean one thing: he’s on another mission. Typical Leon, disappearing in the middle of the night to go god knows where for god knows how long. The frustration bubbles up in your chest and you feel like hitting something, but you don’t. It’s not worth it.

You try to keep your mind off of his sudden disappearance by throwing yourself into chores. You wash his bedding and make his bed, then wash your own. You sweep and mop the floors and vacuum the carpets. You dust the blinds.

It doesn’t help.

Your mind keeps wandering back to the fact that he left without saying goodbye. That he woke up at some ungodly hour, saw you laying in his arms, got up and left without another word. He didn’t even leave a note. He really cares that little. 

You shake your head and even though the pit in your stomach makes you feel like not eating, you make yourself a sandwich regardless. Seeing the untouched groceries in the fridge just adds to the feeling.

Even though you know he’s not going to get it, you pull out your phone and start typing.

Y/N: do you at least know when you’ll be back?

Message Not Delivered. Try Again?

The message makes you roll your eyes. Leon fucking Kennedy.

—

A week goes by, and then two, and you still hear nothing from your roommate. You send texts here and there, hoping for an answer, but none of them go through. Eventually, you start venting to him through there, too. Expressing how frustrated you are that he didn’t say goodbye, how annoying your feelings are, how sometimes you wish you didn’t know him so you didn’t have to go through this.

It’s a random Sunday night when you’re sitting on the couch, watching trash reality tv and eating snacks. It’s cold in the apartment, but you can’t be bothered to turn on the heat. Only when your arms puff up with goosebumps do you scour the room for a sweater, settling on a random one hanging on the back of a chair.

It’s Leon’s, an old one from the Police Academy. His smell floods your nose when you pull it over your head, and it's so bittersweet you don’t know if you should laugh or cry. You settle back on the couch, but a rustling at the window makes you freeze in your tracks.

It stops for a moment, and you can almost convince yourself you’ve imagined it or it’s a part of the show—until it happens again. You scramble for the remote, pausing it so you can hear better. The noise starts again, and you waste no time in hightailing it to your bedroom and slamming the door behind you.

You flop onto your bed, trying (and failing) to remind yourself that it’s just the wind. That you’re safe here. But it’s hard when it’s late and you’re tired and you’re alone and the only person you feel safe with just abandoned you.

You curl up into a ball, pulling Leon’s sweater over your mouth and inhaling the familiar scent. It’s enough to calm you down, if only for a few moments. If you close your eyes, you can almost trick yourself into thinking he’s there, and for now, that’s good enough.

—

Leon knows he fucked up when he gets back to the country and turns on his phone. Almost fifty messages from you, each one more sad than the last. He wants to slap himself—why couldn’t he just grow a pair and say goodbye? Why did he have to be so noncommittal?

He reads every message on the cab ride back to the apartment, and his heart breaks for you. He didn’t think about how you would drive yourself crazy over him or how worried you must have been. All he thought about was getting the call for the mission in the middle of the night and not wanting to wake you up.

But he didn’t abandon you. He thought about you every day and god—he wishes he could have talked to you. Hearing your voice and seeing your face was enough to make everything better. With the horrors he’s seen lately, all he wants is to be back in that bed with you for one more night.

He’s quiet coming into the apartment, hoping he doesn’t wake you up or scare you. And even though he knows you’re sleeping, he’s still disappointed you’re not waiting at the door for him.

He tosses his backpack into his room and strips off all of his holsters and velcro.  He’s quiet walking down the hallway to your room and even quieter opening the door. He relaxes at the sight of you curled up in a ball. 

You look so cute and so peaceful and—is that his sweater? The sight brings a smile to his face. He closes the door behind him with a soft click, climbing into the bed next to you.

You wake up when the bed dips down and arms wrap around you. You’re so tired you don’t even care who or what it is.

“If you’re gonna kill me, can you at least let me sleep first?” You mumble.

You fully awake as soon as you hear Leon’s laugh.

“You’re back?” You say, and you hate the way your voice cracks. 

You turn around to face him, tired ocean eyes meeting yours. He nods sleepily, “‘m sorry I didn’t say goodbye. It was stupid of me.”

“It’s okay,” and it really is okay. All the resentment you felt melted away at the sight of him. 

“C’mere,” he mumbles. 

You lay your head on his chest, wrapping your arms around him. You can hear his heart rate slow down at the contact. 

“I just—I just need you tonight.” Those are big words coming from the agent, and they leave you completely stunned. He must have seen or done something horrible while he was away for him to be this vulnerable, even with you.

“You can have me tonight.” You try to keep your voice even, “you can have me whenever you need me,”

He kisses the top of your head. “But I always need you.”

“Then I’m always yours.”

Neither of you speak after that, Leon falling into a light sleep. You stay up a while longer, watching the blond boy rest beneath you. He looks so fragile like this, you can’t imagine him fighting off monsters and handling weapons. You kiss his collarbone through his shirt and let yourself fall asleep with him. 

[dreaisgrayte]

Moonlit Monsters | Muzan x FEM!reader

SYNOPSIS: Reader is having a nice night time dip in the lake not too far from her village, when a mysterious man appears on the shore (omg it's like that one story in the Bible) anyway- the man stakes claim to the shadowy heart of reader.

CONTAINS: smut, female naked, one mention of a boner, claws, teeth, blood kink, oral sex (fem!receiving), kissing, a bit of wounding, outdoor sex (almost?), dirty talk

WORD COUNT: 1.6k

A/N: A little drabble I just had to get out of my system. I'll have a lot of free time coming up so I'm trying to get some of the shorter ideas I've had out of the way so I can crank out those longer fics. I hope you enjoy!

Moonbeams create a sky of their own on the water’s surface—the liquid forms around your naked body, welcoming you into the environment with ripples from your movement. There was a strong waterfall about 20 feet from your current spot in the lake creating small waves that would lap at the shore. The waterfall, a celestial cascade of liquid silver, descends gracefully from the heights above, its sound a lullaby that resonates through the night. The surrounding nature seems to hold its breath as if joining the observer in silent admiration of the nocturnal spectacle. Trees guarded this oasis with ancient splendor. You felt safe. That was until you heard the foliage rustle behind you. 

“You’re quite a pretty thing.” A smooth voice sneers. Your brows knit together as you turn in the water. There’s a figure leaning against one of the trees – face shaded by the lack of light. 

“I’m afraid this lake is already taken.” You call to the shore. You can’t see, but you swear their lips lift in a devious grin. 

They shift forward, still within the shadows. “And here I was hoping you’d invite me in.” The voice is deep, deeper than a woman's. You’d assume this was a man leering at you – like they usually did – but there was something off about this one. He carried himself in a way that made you think twice about crossing him. “What’da you say, Nightshine?”

A nickname, already? He moved quickly. “What if you’re dangerous?” An elegant laugh rumbles out of the man. His next move is at the speed of light as he almost teleports behind you. A chill runs through your body as his hands grip your shoulders. Claws dig into the tender skin, pricking blood. They also prick a low desire in the core of your stomach. 

“There is no if, my sweet, but you already knew that.” He purrs into the shell of your ear. Your body fills with heat at the way his hot breath makes your nipples stiffen. The prospect of what he was about to do excited you in a way that probably should be looked at by the village healer, but that was if you lived past this evening. 

“What do you plan on doing to me?” You question, stupidly, perhaps. A delighted hum vibrates from him, his fingers trailing down your arms. 

“I’m feeling a bit peckish after my last meal. I think you’ll be a delicious dessert.” The point of his sharp fingernails traces a swirling pattern on your collarbone. Without a moment's hesitation, the span of his hand wraps around the base of your throat, pushing your head to where it was resting on his shoulder. You could almost make out the shape of his face before thick curly locks fell in front of his face. You don’t miss the glint of pointed teeth in his lecherous grin. You notice he smells like the city, with aromas of food and women imprinted on the clothes he wears. There was a secondary scent, one that was pungent enough to make your nose crinkle. It was coppery and meaty, it didn’t mix with the first smells. The latter felt like part of him as if he carried the waft of blood on his body. 

His nose drags up the length of your jugular, stopping when he meets your ear lobe – licking the spot with hunger you could feel radiate off of him. His hand on your throat squeezes tighter as he slips it under your jaw. As he turns your head to face him he covers your eyes with his free hand. Your senses felt like they were on fire, everything making your ears perk up. “If your eyes meet mine,” He pauses, hot breath spreading over your exposed face. He must’ve moved closer to you. You can almost feel his proximity with the slight movement of his lips. “I will snap this pretty neck of yours.”

Soft, feverous lips meet yours. Feasting on the moan that escapes your mouth as his hand slides to the back of your neck, keeping you pressed to him. “Fuck you taste divine.” He growls, clamping down on your hair. Your yelp cracks into a gaspy moan as he bends his head to suck on the junction of your shoulder. The creatures of the night had always enticed you, even as a young girl you explored the forest in hopes the shadows the chief warned you about would appear. 

When he was kissing you this man tasted like fresh blood. A fact that should’ve made you run, but something told you that you wouldn’t make it very far. In the meantime he’d made his way down your body, scraping a claw down your abdomen. It stung with an exhilarating pain, making you press your thighs together. He clicks his tongue, pressing the muscle to the wound he’d created and licking up the blood that spilled from it. A whiney moan tumbles into the open when he takes your stiff nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it with dexterity that even the warriors of your village would be envious. 

“M-more I need more,” You pant out, reaching down to grip his cheeks. They’re soft, and sunken in as he sucks on your hard peaks. A chuckle vibrates his mouth and the sensation makes you nearly scream. 

He lets go of your breast with a loud pop that echoes around the lake valley. His mouth is on yours, feeding you that same taste as before. It makes your knees weaken to the point he wraps an arm around your back, supporting you against his own body. He breaks from the kiss, the shadows only allowing you to see his mouth which turns up in a smirk. “I thought I was the hungry one, but it turns out you were ready to feast on me my little siren.” 

A warmth spreads over your body, your gaze falling to the reflective water you both stand in. “Who are you?” You find yourself asking, expecting the man to not respond. There’s a long pause before he wraps his massive hands under your thighs, pushing lightly so you’ll allow him to pick you up. He brings you around his waist, the hard planes of his chest exposed from where his clothing had parted slightly. 

“The monster your mother warned you about.” He responds, splashing through the water, toward the shore. Your heart pounds in your chest and chills run up your exposed back as the water drips to the ground. 

“I was hoping you’d say that.” You whisper, finding your back aggressively pressed into the trunk of a tree. 

“Is that so?” He chuckles, kissing at your neck. You try to bite back the moans, but he nips at the splotchy skin he left from earlier, eliciting a garbled whine from your lips. 

“Oh heavens,” You cry out, gripping his shoulders. Another laugh, this one more devious than the last graces your ears. 

“No my sweet, the things I’m about to do to you will not be heavenly.” He huffs, lowering your body slightly to where you can feel something hard press into the apex of your thighs. 

“Then stop talking and take me already,” Exasperated from his teasing tongue your mouth turns down in a frown. 

He pulls you away from the tree, slamming you rather roughly into a large boulder near the shoreline. The wind is knocked out of you with his action. He slides you upon the boulder, grasping at the plush skin of your thighs. “Hold on darling.” He mumbles and before you have much time to regain any form of thought his tongue plunges into the place no one else has ever touched. A scream of pleasure rolls from your throat, the movement against the sensitive bud making you squirm. It felt so good like you were becoming a piece of glass about to explode. 

“Ngh–yes, oh my – f’eels so good.” Garbled nonsense sputters from your mouth as the man works the folds of your wet cunt like a master. A moan shakes from his throat, sending shockwaves through your nerves. 

“P-please, h–ugh–harder.” He listens well, sliding one of his clawed fingers into your throbbing pussy. You squirm from the intense amount of pleasure. With just one finger it felt like he was stretching you out, but through the slight sting, your walls still clenched around his finger. “That feels so good, ha,”

His lips wrap around your clit, sucking on it while he moved his finger slowly in and out of you. You start to shake, an overwhelming feeling radiating through your entire being. Just as you feel the crest of whatever sensation that was he releases your abused clit, grinning up from between your legs. “Such a good girl,” He hisses, but a wash of realization crashes any pleasure you once felt as his red irises stare back at you. Illuminated in the moonlight a short gasp escapes your lips. You want to explain, it was an accident of course, but if the last thing you got to see was his eyes, you could die happy. His eyes glow with an ethereal gleam, his free hand clawing into your outer thigh. You let out a small cry as blood rushes forth. He lifts your leg, turning the axis of your hips to reveal the gash of flesh he tore into. He brings his teeth to the surface, sinking into the tender skin. You hiss in pain but the calming stare of his eyes brings you to a sense of euphoria. His tongue dances around, lapping up the copper liquid with appreciation. 

He lifts from your bloodied thigh, red painting his mouth as he smirks at you. “You are mine, little siren, you belong to me. You belong to the Demon King.”

[lightleak007]

~ The Legend of How You Disappeared ~

Storyline: Kokushibo thought that people with rare blood are the only ones who can make him feel the excitement of consuming them. But you—you are awakening his humanistic urge that is supposed to be long forgotten.

!! SMUT ALERT !!

!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK !!

PS. Hi, reader! I'm making my tumblr debut with one of my favorite Demon Slayer Character x Reader stories that I made. Hope you enjoy reading~

During the Taisho period, it is part of the culture to be married at a young age. The age of sixteen is the appropriate age to have a husband through an arranged marriage. That’s why learning how to be a good wife is much more important than learning how to be intellectual.

You had prepared yourself for the day to be chosen as a bride, but your life wasn’t the same as everybody else—no one wanted you.

If only you were chosen and got married by the age of sixteen, you wouldn’t be seen as bad luck by your own family and everybody else in town.

As you live your life for two decades, you are seen as a disgrace, and everyone who knew you always looked at you with pity in their eyes. Even work does not come easy since everyone believes you’ll only attract misfortune to their business. It got you thinking that maybe life isn’t hard, it’s just you finding it hard to live because the people around you make it so.

It feels like you’re just breathing, but not living—you feel empty and unwanted. The only thing that gives you peace of mind is an evening walk, and you developed a habit of doing it every night without a miss.

Even with the rumors about a demon who hunts humans for food being the only talk in your town lately, it doesn’t stop you to take a late-night walk. More like, you don’t care if you encounter the demon and he puts an end to your life—or maybe the demon won’t even choose you to be their prey in the first place.

You scoffed at the thought of encountering a picky demon as you continue to walk towards the riverside. When you got to your usual spot, you put down your lantern on the grass before sitting beside it. The moon is unusually bright tonight and its light is reflecting on the calm water that is flowing in the river in front of you.

“Ah~ It feels a little chilly tonight,” you said to yourself as you felt the night breeze, and put on your haori that you brought with you. Nighttime is the only time you are free—from judgments and the pitiful stare of everyone you know. It feels nice to have solitude and the gentle flow of wind against you is adding to your relaxation.

The cold air of the night keeps brushing against your skin and as the wind blows, your scent is being flown with it—reaching the nostrils of the rumored demon in the area. He can feel his senses tingle upon smelling a human nearby.

Kokushibo moves swiftly to your location, his hunger beginning to rise within him. Just by your scent, he could tell you are a woman in her younger years, and the closer he gets to where you are… his sixth sense revealed much more.

Without you noticing him, Kokushibo stands a few feet away behind you. He couldn’t believe what he could see with his sixth sense, but he knows that his eyes are not lying to him.

Kokushibo can tell without a doubt that you are a virgin.

A thrill runs in his veins and an unfamiliar urge is igniting within him upon knowing this. Kokushibo thought that people with rare blood are the only ones who can make him feel the excitement of consuming them. But you—you are awakening his humanistic urge that is supposed to be long forgotten.

Being a demon, Kokushibo did not think that it was possible for him to feel any sexual urge, especially, toward a human. For demons, humans are nothing but food and power source. Yet when your scent penetrated his nostrils, a tingling sensation runs through under his skin, and his instincts told him to have you.

Kokushibo unsheaths his fleshy sword from his side. Thinking to himself that after he absorbs you, he'll be back to his usual self—being composed and reserved. In just one slash, he knew he could end your life and he won’t be bothered by his humanistic feelings anymore.

You only became aware of someone else’s presence behind you when you felt a sharp tip pressing at your back. A gasp left your lips and your mind wondered who could it be. Your heart races its beat as you slowly turn your head to see who it is.

A louder gasp escapes from you upon realizing that the person who pointed his sword at you, is in fact, a demon. You tilt your face away to see him, he has three pairs of eyes that can’t go unnoticed by someone. His face has flame markings on the left side of his forehead and on the right side of his chin. He stands tall in front of you and his spiky hair is tied in a ponytail behind his head. He’s wearing a purple kimono with beehive patterns on it and partnered it with black hakama pants that are tied with a white cloth belt on his waist. Somehow, you felt admiration for his majestic features.

“W-Who are you…?” You asked as he pointed his fleshy sword at your face this time. Well, you guess this is where your miserable life ends.

Even as a demon, he’s polite enough to answer your question. “Upper Moon Rank One of Twelve Kizuki,” he saw how your face looks puzzled at what he said, “Kokushibo.” He was a little surprised that you did not run away screaming.

As someone who’s tired of living, you don’t feel scared anymore of getting killed by him. It’s not your wish to spend your time growing old in a world that only gives unfairness to you.

“Don’t worry, I won’t run away,” you said as you get up on your feet, “You can do anything to me. I’ve been ready to throw my life away anyway, Kokushibo.” You flashed him a genuine smile—something you haven’t done in a long time.

Kokushibo’s eyebrows twitch, “Do…anything to her?” He thought as he felt the shivers that run through his body, and the smile that you gave him only made his heart fall. He pointed his sword to your chest and he watches as you anticipated the slash.

You waited with eyes-closed, heartbeat racing but there’s no regret creeping into your chest. Then, you felt the sword swing across your body and the breeze of the night penetrated your skin. Slowly, you opened one eye to see what happened—only to see Kokushibo sheathing his sword back to his side.

When the wind flew again, it felt too cold against your body. Realization slowly sank in you as shredded pieces of clothing swayed in front of your eyes. You look at your body and found yourself…naked.

“I have permission to do anything to you right now,” Kokushibo catches your waist and pulled your naked body closer to his. His face inching closer to your neck and his other hand already caressing one of your breasts.

“A-Aren’t you—hng!” The feeling of his lips kissing lavishly on your neck made you hold off your question. You weren’t aware that a demon like him could be a pervert and would do sexual advances on his prey—this wasn’t what you expected. His sharp nails grazing against your back made you elicit a shuddering breath and caused you to push your chest closer to him.

Kokushibo slathers his tongue from your shoulder blade to your neck and it reaches until the back of your ears. “Your taste is addicting….” He paused upon the realization that he doesn’t know your name.

“Tell me…” Kokushibo pulled your chin to tilt your head and made you look at him, “...your name, human.”

“_______,” you answered without hesitation as you hold onto his shoulders and felt your heart flutter at his compliment. Your naked body presses close to him and you can feel a hard tent poking on your thigh.

“_______,” Kokushibo repeated as if your name is something he won’t ever want to forget. His hands ran all over your body as his mouth started working on your neck again. Your scent and taste against Kokushibo’s senses are enough to make him moan. He ran his fangs on the veins of your neck and the urge to bite you is so strong but his sexual urge for you is stronger.

The feeling of Kokushibo’s lips against your skin is ticklish and sensual, both feelings are something you never had before from someone else. You felt your body being guided to lay down on the grass where your shredded clothes are. As soon as your back hits the ground, Kokushibo hovers on top of you and seizes your lips.

“Hmng!” The sudden kiss caught you off-guard, making it hard to respond as his tongue invades your mouth. You can only release puffs of air and let him eagerly suck on your tongue—the sensation is electrifying.

Kokushibo keeps himself busy as he savors your taste in your mouth, not really minding all the saliva he’s been slurping from you. It has been so long since he ever kissed someone and he’s well aware that not even with his wife from before time, had awakened a such desire he’s been feeling for you. He doesn’t want to stop and his tongue pushes deep into your mouth—nearly reaching your throat.

You almost choked and your eyes filled with tears as you find it hard to breathe. With all the strength that you have, you pushed him away and moaned, “Ko-Kokushibo…”

There’s a trickle of saliva on the side of his mouth as he pulled away and the way you moaned his name made him feel a throb in his aching length. Kokushibo wiped off your stained cheek with his cold hand as gently as he could. He’s feeling too much ache between his legs that his clothing is making him feel more uncomfortable.

You watch as Kokushibo undress between your legs, he has pale skin but a muscular body, and your eyes were interrupted from lowering down your gaze when he hoists your legs in his arms. The dripping of your arousal in between your legs is being reflected by the moonlight, and the embarrassment snaps in you as Kokushibo leans in closer to your wetness.

Kokushibo inhales deep your arousal scent—too inviting for him. He felt your hips squirming away in shyness but he had no problem firming his hold on your thighs. His hands spread your wetness open and his sharp nails dug into your inner thighs at the sight of your tight hole. Every breath that he takes is heavy as he keeps himself in control.

You started to feel more embarrassed and insecure as Kokushibo stay in a daze with your virgin hole. But, every puff of air from his mouth feels too hot against your wetness that it’s taking effect on you too. Your soft hand reaches for his hand that’s holding into your inner thigh, “What’s… wrong?”

“I want to taste what’s dripping from you here,” Kokushibo’s knuckles caresses your folds and gently prod your clit unconsciously.

Before you could answer, you felt his flat tongue lathering on your wetness back and forth. The tip of his tongue rubbed on your clit and licking on your slit—causing your legs to spread further apart. Your hands hold onto his head as Kokushibo let himself drown in your wetness, and your voice sounds high and lewd from the sensation.

Kokushibo’s mouth works with hunger and your arousal coating even his chin as he pushes his tongue inside you. He slurps loudly and sucked on the nub his mouth had found—causing your legs to tremble against his hold.

“Ahhh~!!” You cried out in pleasure as you tug on his hair, “Kokushibo~! Your tongue—haa~!!”

The way you pulled his hair is not having any effect on Kokushibo, it only made him groan against your clit, as his tongue penetrates your insides. He can feel the soft pleats of your insides squeezing around the wet muscle of his mouth.

The further his tongue reaches inside you, the closer you felt yourself convulsing. Your legs shake around his head and your body gave in to the newfound ecstasy. You came undone in his mouth and your insides wetter than ever.

Kokushibo gulped all the secretions left in his mouth and he stare down at your heavily breathing state. He presses his shaft on your abused clit and you flinch away in sensitiveness. He had to hold your hips still as he started penetrating your tight insides.

You whined at the sensation of getting stretched apart, he felt hard inside you, and it feels impossible to take all of him. The brush of his pulsating veins in your slick walls is making your eyes roll in the back of your head.

“I can’t— ‘s too much.”

Kokushibo pulled your body up on his lap, to help you sink on him as he was just halfway in, “Don’t run away from me, _______.”

You felt his hands on your ass and your body swiftly pushed down to his length. You let out a cry of his name and felt a searing pain as you fully take him inside you. Tears freely fell from your eyes as you feel the pain—his length feels too hard and your insides still adjusting from his wide girth.

"Please..." You can feel the sting in your eyes as tears continue to trickle down and stain your cheeks, "Stop... Please, stop."

Unbeknownst to both of you, spots of blood from your torn hymen are freely dripping from your joined bodies together and staining the ground.

"I can't.” Kokushibo started to thrust, “This can't be over now, _______."

You cried out louder and had to bite on his shoulder to distract yourself from the pain. Your teeth sink into his pale skin and your fingertips scratch his back, as Kokushibo keeps your body moving on top of him.

Kokushibo groaned internally as he felt you bit on his skin… and he almost prayed to a god just to keep the mark that you made. But, it wasn’t possible, his healing ability already made your bite vanish.

“Kokushibo,” you sniffled on the crook of his neck.

“It will feel better, _______,” Kokushibo kisses your shoulder blade and continue to gently guide your hips in moving. He couldn’t focus on feeling the pleasure as you cry, but he knew that he couldn’t stay still as your insides grip on his length too hard.

Your insides adjusted fully as he keeps thrusting, soon enough, the pain you were feeling was replaced by a ticklish yet sensual sensation. You can feel that it became easier to take him in as you move above him, and your voice lets out erotic moans.

Kokushibo has his six eyes closed as he lets you move on your own, the pleasure in his body is getting stronger and stronger. His hands squeeze on your soft ass and his sharp nails unconsciously left scratch marks on your skin, due to his eagerness. He’s letting out deep groans and sighs as he lets himself be consumed by the pleasure.

You felt like a knot is getting twisted inside you and the more you move, the tighter it gets. “Kokushibo~ Hnngh!”

Kokushibo caresses your face after hearing his name, your face distorts beautifully for him as the pleasure intoxicates you. He wrapped one arm around your waist and move his hips, taking the lead with speed. He can feel your nipples brushing against his face as he bounces you on top of him.

Your hold on his shoulders tightens and it’s hard to keep yourself steady. You couldn’t think straight as the pleasure gets in your head. You felt your body giving up as another wave of surprise orgasm surged throughout your body.

Kokushibo felt your insides squeeze around him repeatedly—forcing him to pull out. He felt your body falls on him and your ragged breathing is apparent. He took in a deep breath, he had almost reached his high, and he intended to pursue it.

You felt being flipped to your back and Kokushibo from behind is pushing his shaft inside you again. A loud whine escaped your lips as you feel being full again, and he felt bigger in the new position. Your legs already shaking as soon as he started to thrust.

“Kokushibo~!! Unghh!!” Your hands gripping the grass and making marks on the ground as you take in his pounding. This time, he felt forceful and relentless—as if chasing something.

Kokushibo’s mind got clouded by the pleasure that he’s spitting out a proposal near your ear in between his moans, “Let’s live together, ________.” He moaned deliciously again, “Live together with me.”

Without thinking about it, “Yes! Kokushibo, yes~!!”

Maybe it was the pleasure you’re feeling that took your sense of logic away, but you know you won’t regret the choice you made.

Kokushibo dragged his hips once more before unloading thick strings of his warm cum and it painted your narrow insides white. All of his kept seeds bursting out inside you and making you full—literally overwhelming your womb.

You can still feel Kokushibo pumping inside you and your body could only take in all that he gave. Eyes rolling at the back of your head, hands gripping the ground, and your voice sounding lewd can be heard from a far distance.

Kokushibo stared at your limp state, while his desire is barely satiated. He took you in his arms and brushed away the strands of your hair from your face, “Take my blood and I’ll keep you, _______.”

You obliged. Finally, you have found someone who wanted you.

Before sunrise, you and Kokushibo are off to spend the rest of your demon life together. Leaving your shredded clothes on the ground and pieces of evidence of you losing your virginity. The marks on the ground and the spots of blood from where you were last night were founded by a man who’s out to fish in the river.

Since then, a legend of how you disappeared arises in your town based on the traces that you left. People believed that you were eaten by a demon as it was your fate for being unmarriable.

The legend of your disappearance was told to many young girls through generations and they feared having the same fate as you.

[genderfluid-insomniac]

I have just been going through all of you x reader stuff, and it's amazing! I'm not sure if requests are open or not. (If they're not, you may ignore me), but I was wondering how Macaque would be if his partner was pregnant, specifically with a little baby girl during and after the pregnancy?

I love this idea so much and I may have gotten a bit carried away and I didn't expect this post to be this long lol

Macaque x pregnant!reader

Macaque during the pregnancy:

If you thought he was protective before then get ready for being watched/”guarded” all the time and he’s not going to hide being protective if anything he’s going to be obvious that if anyone dares mess or threatens to hurt you then it’s over for them. He’ll tone it down a tad if you ask him to but he’s not taking any risks since he doesn’t want to lose you in any way nor his child.

He’s patient when you’re dealing with the pregnancy and all its symptoms however every time you get morning sickness his anxiety flares up, worrying about your health and your cubs’. He’s never been happier for his six ears and how sensitive they are because he can hear his cub's heartbeat and every sound they make.

There’s no lying he is going to be a bit judgy when you ask and eat your strange food combinations or cravings but he’ll humor you regardless. Depending on what they are he might try some of them with you and others he will draw a hard no at.

Both of you didn’t want the gender to be revealed at all via the ultrasound or the whispers of the future Macaque hears so you both are very excited to meet your child when they come into the world and grow up with two hopeful loving parents. The later in your pregnancy the more you start to show and the more he is obviously lovestruck but doesn’t seem to care.

At night when you’re resting on the bed or couch your husband will have his head resting on your tummy, smiling softly whenever he feels the baby kick, and use his abilities to perform stories on the walls in front of you. You’re never left feeling helpless or forgotten since he’s so doting on you more than before however don’t think that doesn’t mean that you’re off the hook for his teasing and flirts.

The larger your belly gets and the harder regular chores get the more he’s going to insist and make sure you’re off your feet, helping you to feel comfortable and less stressed. Macaque will let you keep doing regular things if you insist on doing them but the moment you wince or feel discomfort he’s sweeping you off your feet again literally.

Once the day gets here and your water breaks he’s panicking and not hiding it that well since with help from Sandy and the gang had told him the full dos and don’ts of pregnancy. He knows you’re in good hands but seeing you yell in pain and hearing you cry as you’re feeling contractions breaks his heart.

He doesn’t risk using his shadow portals in case it hurts his cub and you and rushes you to the hospital, not taking no for an answer when he’s asked if he’s sure he wants to come in or asks you if you want him in. There isn’t ever a time when he’s not by your side and holding your hand, letting you squeeze it as much as you want, and soothing you with comforting words.

When the time finally happens you’re screaming and gripping his hand like you’re hanging off a cliff for dear life, both apologizing for making his ears hurt and pleading for it to be over. He was frankly a bit disturbed that you apologized for hurting him via your screaming but held you as close as he could until you both heard the cry of your new cub.

Macaque after the pregnancy:

The moment you both heard your child cry everything else no longer mattered and you opened your arms to signal you wanted to hold your child, cradling their sweet baby girl in your arms and crying out of joy. You looked up at Macaque with tears streaming down your face and sobbing happily when you saw the same expression mirror on his face, resting your foreheads against one another and kissing him gently.

His cub had your hair color fur and four lotus-shaped ears like his that twitched and flicked about when you both traced over them with your fingers. Her fists curled up and she rubbed her eyes that slowly opened to show your eye color reflected with gold flecks scattered around the iris.

Macaque couldn’t help the bittersweet feeling that his cub had his ears which you constantly called precious but also worried considering all the hate he got from others for his “freaky” ears. You must’ve seen his conflicted expression because you kissed his cheek and then your cubs who was swaddled in a comfy blanket.

When you moved for him to hold your baby he tensed up at first not wanting to possibly hurt his baby girl in any way but all his worries melted when she looked up at him and wrapped his tail around hers. He made a promise to himself that he’d protect his daughter and lover no matter what.

The days after you gave birth were hard and Macaque was there for all of it, helping you out whenever you could and getting you actual food since both of you agreed the hospital food was disgusting. Your baby was pretty well-behaved and was mostly quiet thanks to a sound-dampening spell your lover placed on her ears, handing her off to one another and to the nurses when they needed to check on her.

When you were finally let out of the hospital he still didn’t use his portal out of concern for his baby and you, calling Sandy to help you both back home with your wheelchair and gratefully accepting the baby gifts he gave you both. While you were still in the hospital Macaque sent a couple of clones back to your apartment to baby-proof everything and also install a lock on the door of his dojo.

The following weeks weren’t pretty since parenting is never easy and you both share the burden of the sleepless nights which doesn’t happen that much since it turns out that your baby was an easy cub just very clingy. Macaque had mixed feelings about that since he liked having you all to himself but now had to share you with his daughter, who he loved more than anything but was also getting used to sharing you.

Macaque was protective during the pregnancy and still remains so as Yingyue grows up, deciding to name their baby girl after how she was just as beautiful as the moon and just as calm and soothing. Every time a picture of the sky was in her view she babbled out excited noises and often would put on special shadow plays for his precious daughter.

He watches everyone like a hawk when the gang meets his daughter specifically Wukong for reasons. Already in advance, he put a sound-dampening spell on her sensitive ears knowing MK and Mei wouldn’t be able to not scream or at least MK would remember after a second or so. They all adored his cub even Wukong who wished him congratulations as Macaque just stared lovingly at his little girl.

[reidmarieprentiss]

Bridges to Belonging

Part One Part Two Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven

Summary: Penelope texts Y/n, Rossi has a dinner party, Y/n and Spencer meet

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: Fluff

Warnings/Includes: mentions of virginity and sex (16+), playing never have I ever, teasing from friends, consuming alcohol

Word count: 3.7k

a/n: i am cranking this story out it is going to be finished so fast dear goddd ,, hopefully y'all like it!!! probably like 5 ish more parts is my guess

main masterlist

Y/n was settling in for the night after a long shift at the hospital, kicking her feet up on her coffee table with a glass of wine in hand when her usually dead phone vibrated. 

Hey, Y/N! 😊 It's Penelope from the BAU. Hope you don't mind me texting! Just thought I'd check in and see how my favorite child psychologist is doing. 🌟

Hey, Penelope! Of course, I don't mind :) I’m doing well, just busy with work as usual. How about you?

Busy saving the world, one computer at a time! 🖥️💪 So, tell me, are you still too busy to date, or have you finally joined us mere mortals in the quest for love? 💘

Haha I guess we’re getting right into it. I suppose I am feeling ready to dip my toes back into the dating pool. But I’ve been avoiding it for a while 😅 Awkward first dates are terrifying!

Ooh, exciting! 🥳 But I totally get the fear. Blind dates can be the worst. You never know if you're going to meet Prince Charming or... well, not. 😬

Exactly! And I've been so focused on my career that I haven't really thought about dating in a while. Plus, all my undergrad flings made me a bit wary of anything serious.

Understandable. Sometimes you just need to have fun, right? But now that you’re settled, maybe it’s time for a change? 😉

Yeah, maybe you're right. I wouldn't mind meeting someone who shares my interests and gets my sense of humor.

OMG, that sounds like a dream. Let me know when you find them and send me one too. 💖

Ha! If I find one I will let you know. How does one even go about meeting new people nowadays?

Well… You remember Rossi, right? He’s having a pasta and wine night at his mansion this Friday at 8 pm!! 🎉

Pasta and wine?? Sounds perfect. Thanks, Penelope! I’ll be there, I appreciate you thinking of me :)

Anytime, Y/N! Can’t wait for you to meet the rest of the team. I’ve got a good feeling about this! 💖✨ 

—

The rest of the team? Y/n thought to herself. She had assumed she met everyone already when she went for drinks with Aaron and the team. Maybe they added a new member. Regardless, she's excited to do three of her favorite things, eat pasta, drink wine, and let rich people pay for everything. 

—

The evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting a soft glow over David Rossi’s expansive estate. Nestled in the Virginia countryside, the elegant home exuded both charm and sophistication, a perfect reflection of its owner. The team arrived one by one, greeted by the welcoming scent of freshly baked bread and simmering marinara sauce that wafted through the air, promising a feast of Italian delights.

As Y/n stepped into the house, they were embraced by the warm ambiance of the living room, where a crackling fire in the stone fireplace added a cozy touch. The room was tastefully decorated with leather-bound books, framed photographs, and art pieces that told stories of Rossi’s travels and experiences. Soft jazz music played in the background, the soothing melodies mingling with the lively chatter of the guests.

The dining room was a vision of elegance, with a long mahogany table set for the evening's festivities. Flickering candlelight danced across the table, casting a gentle glow on the polished silverware and delicate china. Each place setting was thoughtfully arranged, complete with fine crystal wine glasses waiting to be filled with Rossi’s carefully curated selection of wines.

On the far side of the room, a sideboard displayed an array of antipasti: olives, cured meats, marinated vegetables, and various cheeses artfully arranged on rustic wooden boards. A large bouquet of fresh flowers served as the centerpiece, adding a splash of color and vibrancy to the room.

The kitchen bustled with activity as Rossi, ever the gracious host, put the finishing touches on a variety of homemade pasta dishes. Large pots simmered on the stove, the fragrant aroma of garlic and herbs filling the air. A pan of lasagna bubbled in the oven, its cheese topping perfectly golden brown. Fresh basil and parsley were sprinkled generously over platters of spaghetti aglio e olio and creamy fettuccine alfredo, each dish a testament to Rossi’s culinary skills and passion for Italian cuisine.

In the adjoining patio, strings of fairy lights twinkled overhead, providing a magical canopy under which the team could relax and unwind. Comfortable seating areas were arranged to encourage conversation, and a small fire pit offered warmth as the evening grew cooler. The gentle rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of crickets added a serene backdrop to the lively gathering.

The evening at Rossi’s house was in full swing. The room was alive with laughter and conversation, and the clinking of glasses mingled with the soft strains of jazz music. The warm glow from the fireplace and the dim lighting created a cozy, inviting atmosphere that wrapped the team in a sense of comfort and camaraderie.

As the doorbell rang, David straightened his jacket and moved toward the entrance with a welcoming smile. He opened the door to reveal Y/N, who stood on the threshold, looking radiant in her deep green dress that highlighted her curves and complemented her confident demeanor.

“Y/N! Welcome!” Rossi exclaimed, stepping aside to usher her into the house. His voice was warm and genuine, filled with the kind of hospitality that made his guests feel immediately at home. “I’m so glad you could make it. We’ve been looking forward to this evening.”

Y/N’s face brightened with a warm smile as she stepped inside. “Thank you, David. I’m excited to be here. The house looks wonderful.”

Rossi gave a hearty laugh. “It’s all thanks to the amazing team I have. Let me introduce you to everyone.”

With a graceful wave of his hand, Rossi guided Y/N into the living room, where the BAU team had gathered. The room buzzed with the energy of friends reconnecting after a long day. Rossi’s arrival with Y/N caught the attention of the group, and they turned to greet her with friendly smiles and nods.

Spencer, who had been deep in a conversation with Derek about a recent case, felt a shift in the atmosphere. His gaze followed Rossi and Y/N as they entered, his attention abruptly captured.

Spencer’s breath hitched slightly as he took in Y/N’s presence. The warm lighting seemed to highlight her natural beauty, and the graceful way she moved across the room was both captivating and disorienting. The rest of the team offered her friendly waves and greetings, but Spencer was fixated on her, his curiosity piqued.

Hotch, noticing Spencer’s focused attention, decided it was time for introductions. He approached Spencer with a friendly, knowing smile and gestured toward Y/N.

“Spencer,” Hotch began, his tone calm and reassuring, “I’d like you to meet Y/N.”

Spencer turned to face Hotch, his heart racing a bit. Hotch continued, “Y/N, this is Spencer Reid. He’s one of our most brilliant team members here at the BAU.”

Y/N extended her hand with a warm, welcoming smile. “Hi, Spencer. It’s nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”

God, even her voice is beautiful. 

Spencer, momentarily taken aback, felt a flutter of nerves as he took her hand. “Hi, Y/N. It’s, uh, nice to meet you too. I’ve heard a lot about you as well,” he replied, his voice tinged with both shyness and genuine interest.

Y/N’s gaze was kind and her smile reassuring, making Spencer feel more at ease. “I hope it’s all been good,” she said with a playful glint in her eye.

Spencer managed a small, tight lipped smile, as he tucked his hair behind one ear and his nerves started to settle. “Definitely,” he replied, feeling a warmth that contrasted with his usual social anxiety.

Y/N leaned in slightly, her eyes meeting Spencer’s with a genuine curiosity. “So, Spencer,” she began, her tone light and engaging, “what’s one thing you’re passionate about outside of work?”

Spencer’s eyes lit up as he considered her question. “Well, I’m really into chess,” he admitted. “I’ve been playing since I was a kid. It’s a great way to exercise the mind and challenge myself.”

Y/N’s smile widened. “I didn’t know that. I used to play chess with my grandfather when I was younger. It’s a fascinating game. Do you have a favorite opening strategy?”

Spencer’s face brightened, and he leaned in a bit more, his enthusiasm evident. “Yes! I’m a big fan of the Queen’s Gambit. It’s a classic and very versatile. What about you?”

Y/N’s eyes sparkled as she shared her own chess experiences. The conversation continued, the two finding common ground and enjoying each other’s company.

Hotch observed the interaction with a pleased expression, satisfied with the introduction. He stepped back, allowing Spencer and Y/N to continue their conversation. The team resumed their chatter, though the undercurrent of excitement about the new connection was palpable.

The evening had progressed into a more relaxed phase as the team retreated to Rossi’s lush backyard. The gentle clinking of glasses and the murmur of conversation blended with the soft rustling of leaves in the warm night breeze. The group had moved outside after enjoying a sumptuous Italian feast prepared by Rossi and Penelope, and now they were settling into comfortable chairs and sofas, each with a glass of wine in hand.

Spencer, still a bit on edge but feeling slightly more at ease, had decided to join in on the wine, especially since Y/N had done the same. The rich, full-bodied wine paired perfectly with the after-dinner atmosphere, adding to the relaxed ambiance of the evening.

Derek, always the instigator of fun, leaned back in his chair with a mischievous grin. “Alright, everyone, I think it’s time for a game. How about a round of ‘Never Have I Ever’?” He looked around the circle with a gleam in his eye, clearly excited about the prospect of the game.

Emily raised an eyebrow playfully. “Oh, this should be interesting. Let’s see who’s willing to spill some secrets tonight.”

Y/N looked intrigued but a bit hesitant. “Sounds fun. I’m game.”

The group settled into a comfortable rhythm as Derek began the game. “Okay, I’ll start. Never have I ever... gone skydiving.”

A few people sipped their wine, including Emily and Rossi. “Guilty as charged,” Rossi said with a chuckle. “Skydiving is quite the adrenaline rush.”

Y/N, who had taken a sip, smiled and said, “I’ve always wanted to try it, but never had the chance.”

Spencer, still holding his glass, observed the interactions with a mix of curiosity and caution. He had never played this game before, not having ever been invited to parties in high school or college, and while he was intrigued, he wasn’t sure how much he was ready to reveal about himself.

JJ leaned forward, looking at Y/N with a grin. “Okay, your turn. What’s something we’d never expect from you?”

Y/N thought for a moment, then laughed softly. “Alright, never have I ever... been to a strip club.”

This time, the whole team, including Penelope, sipped their wine. “Oh, I mean we all have been on multiple occasions for a case,” Penelope admitted with a grin. “It’s a rite of passage.”

Spencer watched Y/N closely, noticing how easily she blended with the group, her laughter and easy demeanor making her approachable. He found himself feeling more comfortable, the game serving as a welcome distraction from his usual reservations.

As the game continued, Derek took his turn. “Never have I ever... gone on a blind date.”

Spencer, who had been carefully sipping his wine, hesitated for a moment before taking a sip. He caught Y/N’s eye and saw her smile warmly. “Well, that’s a new one for me,” she said, clearly amused.

Hotch, enjoying the playful banter, decided to chime in. “I think it’s safe to say that a lot of us have had some interesting experiences with blind dates.”

The game continued with a mix of laughter, surprises, and the occasional sip of wine. As it came around to Spencer’s turn, he took a deep breath, deciding to take a small risk. “Never have I ever... read all the books in a series before the final book was released.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise, and she laughed. “Oh, I’m guilty of that too. I get too impatient for the next installment.”

Spencer felt a small spark of connection, his nerves easing as he realized they shared a common interest. “It’s the only way to avoid spoilers,” he said with a smile.

The conversation flowed easily as the game progressed, with everyone sharing stories and bonding over their revelations. Spencer found himself more relaxed, the warmth of the wine and the easygoing nature of the game creating an environment where he could be himself.

The group settled into their seats even more lubricated with wine, ready for the real revelations. Derek went first, his tone playful. “Never have I ever... been to a nightclub and partied until dawn.”

Y/N, Emily, Penelope and Derek took a sip, with Emily laughing. “Oh, I’ve done that more times than I can count. Nothing like a night out on the town to blow off some steam.”

Spencer seemed slightly more at ease with each revelation. “I’ve never been to one of those. It sounds like an experience.”

The game continued with more revealing questions. Emily, with a mischievous glint in her eye, asked, “Never have I ever... had a one-night stand.”

Spencer was visibly surprised when Y/N took a sip. Y/N gave a small, slightly embarrassed smile. “It’s a part of life’s experiences, but I guess I’ve been more focused on my career lately.”

Spencer nodded, a hint of understanding in his eyes. He was keenly aware of the fact that he was still a virgin, and while he wanted to connect with Y/N on a deeper level, he found himself struggling. She had undoubtedly had more romantic and physical experiences than he had. The thought that someone as stunning and sophisticated as Y/N would be interested in a novice like him seemed almost inconceivable. He was trying hard not to let his insecurities cloud his mood. The way she smelled—like a wet dream—was both intoxicating and overwhelming. Her laughter, so genuine and carefree, only accentuated the gulf between them. Spencer tried to shake off the discomfort, reminding himself to stay engaged.

Derek, sensing the shift in the conversation and relishing the opportunity to provoke more personal revelations, threw out another provocative prompt. “Never have I ever... gone on a vacation just for the sake of hooking up with someone.”

Penelope and Emily took a sip, with Penelope letting out a soft laugh. “Sometimes you just need to get away and see where the night takes you,” she said, a playful glint in her eye.

Y/N, now visibly more at ease and enjoying the shared camaraderie, leaned in slightly, her voice carrying a teasing edge. “I’ve always found travel is more about the sights than the romance. But I suppose the adventure can include a little... spontaneous connection,” she said, letting her words linger with a hint of allure. Her gaze flicked towards Spencer briefly, a subtle challenge in her eyes.

Spencer felt a slight flush creeping up his neck as he realized Y/N’s playful comment was not lost on him. The conversation had taken a decidedly more personal turn. “I’ve never really mixed vacation with... personal pursuits,” he admitted, his tone tinged with shyness. The idea of combining travel with romantic endeavors seemed foreign and somewhat intimidating.

As the game continued, the topics grew more intense and revealing. Rossi, with a knowing smile and a glint of mischief, asked, “Never have I ever... been in a relationship where both partners had different kinks.”

Everyone, even Hotch, took a sip, with Rossi adding, “Sometimes those differences can make things... particularly exciting.”

Y/N, engaging more openly with the group, nodded thoughtfully. Her eyes sparkled as she spoke. “It’s definitely something that can add a layer of complexity to a relationship,” she said, her voice taking on a more intimate tone. “It’s all about finding that balance and exploring what truly works for both partners.”

Spencer, taking a sip and feeling the warmth of the wine begin to loosen his nerves, found himself caught between curiosity and shyness. “It sounds like navigating those differences can be... challenging,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze remained fixed on Y/N, trying to read the subtle nuances in her expressions. The vulnerability she displayed in her words made her even more intriguing.

Y/N’s smile widened slightly, a mix of empathy and flirtation in her gaze. “It can be, but it’s also part of what makes relationships interesting,” she said, her voice soft but laced with a suggestive undertone. She met Spencer’s eyes with a confident yet gentle look, as if inviting him to share more of his thoughts.

Spencer swallowed hard, feeling a blend of attraction and apprehension. The way Y/N spoke, her casual yet intimate revelations, made him want to know more about her and, perhaps, reveal more about himself. The game had opened a door to a new level of connection, one that both excited and intimidated him.

The night had drifted into a mellow haze as the stars began to twinkle in the sky. The soft hum of conversation and clinking of glasses had subsided into a relaxed murmur as the team lingered in Rossi’s backyard, enjoying the cool night air. The rich aroma of the evening’s wine lingered in the air, adding a heady undertone to the tranquil setting.

Spencer had been engaged in a conversation with Rossi, but his mind kept drifting back to the playful exchanges he’d shared with Y/N. She had been captivating throughout the evening, her laughter and teasing remarks sticking in his mind. He found himself drawn to her energy, even as he struggled with his own insecurities.

As the night wore on, guests began to trickle out, and the ambiance of the backyard shifted to a quieter, more intimate atmosphere. Spencer watched as Y/N, her cheeks flushed with the warmth of the wine, made her way towards him. Her movements were graceful, and there was a certain confident allure in her stride that made Spencer’s heart skip a beat.

Y/N approached Spencer with a mix of determination and vulnerability. She cleared her throat gently, her eyes locking with his in a gaze that was both direct and inviting. The faint glow from the string lights above cast a warm halo around her, highlighting her striking features and the subtle sheen of her skin.

“Hey, Spencer,” she said, her voice soft but laden with an undeniable edge of sincerity. “Can we talk for a minute?”

Spencer, caught off guard, nodded. “Of course, Y/N. What’s up?”

Y/N led him a little away from the remaining guests, her hand brushing lightly against his as she guided him to a more secluded corner of the backyard. Spencer found he didn’t mind the contact too much, he might still wash his hands after. The quiet of the night enveloped them, the sounds of the party fading into the background.

She took a deep breath, her eyes searching his with a mix of hesitation and resolve. “I’ve really enjoyed talking with you tonight,” she began, her voice a touch more vulnerable than usual. “And I have to admit, I’ve been thinking... I’d like to see you again. Maybe for a coffee or dinner sometime? I’d love to get to know you better.”

Spencer’s heart raced as he took in her words. He felt a rush of warmth at the idea of spending more time with her, but the reality of his inexperience and his nerves threatened to overwhelm him. He managed a small, nervous smile, his mind racing through a whirlwind of thoughts.

“I’d like that,” Spencer said, his voice trembling slightly. “I’d really like that. I... I didn’t expect this, but I’m glad you asked.”

Y/N’s eyes softened, and she reached out to touch his arm, her fingers lingering for a moment. “Good,” she said, her tone taking on a more intimate quality. 

Spencer felt a surge of excitement mixed with his usual apprehension. The way Y/N looked at him, with that blend of confidence and genuine interest, made him feel like he was worthy of her attention.

“Absolutely,” he said, feeling more confident. “Let’s definitely make plans. I’d like that very much.”

Y/N’s smile widened, a mix of relief and satisfaction crossing her face. “Great. I’m looking forward to it.”

With that, she gave him a warm, lingering smile and a light touch on his arm before heading back towards the group to say her goodbyes. Spencer watched her go, with a brand new phone number in his pocket, feeling a renewed sense of hope and excitement. The evening had taken an unexpected turn, and he couldn’t wait to see where this new connection with Y/N might lead.

[endlessthxxghts]

Routine

Frankie Morales x coffee shop worker!afab!reader || W/C: ≈7.9k

Summary: Frankie makes a new routine for himself to help with his mental health. In that routine, Frankie stumbles upon you.

Content/Warnings: POV switching - stops towards the end, then POVs are combined. Friends to lovers. Slightly scared and reluctant friends to lovers. Slow burn. Canon divergent to Frankie's Triple Frontier storyline (No history of lady or child for Frankie). Brief mentions of South America and Frankie's mental health. Brief therapy talk. Overthinking!Frankie, but Reader comforts and reassures him. He’s not insecure the entire time, promise lolol. Hints of angst, but this is me we’re talking about — always will be a happy ending here🫶. No physical description of reader besides coffee shop uniform (no size descriptions used) - any descriptions are neutral, no adjectives to describe (purely things like "your thigh" etc.). No use of "y/n". SMUT 18+ MDNI (making out, cunnilingus + fingering, unprotected P in V sex + cumming inside, breast worship/titty sucking). If there's anything that should be up here, please do not hesitate to let me know!

A/N: Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and happy days, everyone! This Christmas season, I was apart of @pedrostories' 2023 Secret Santa event where we gift some type of creation to another fellow Pedro-related blog on here. I'm honored to have created this story for the lovely @alwaysbethewest ! I'm a huge sucker for a soft man, so in reading the prompt you gave, I just had to write for good ol' Francisco Morales—the sweetest of the bunch. This story was so cute and sexy to write, I'm so excited to see what you think. I truly hope you enjoy!

MASTERLIST || NOTIF BLOG

Frankie

You need to create a routine.

One that takes you out of your house.

Out of your comfort zone.

These words rang in Frankie’s ear as he allowed his feet to make decisions for him today. Ever since South America, Frankie has been struggling to maintain a sense of normalcy again. He rarely leaves his house unless it’s for groceries or work — or as of the last few months, unless it’s for therapy.

Frankie’s therapist noticed he was falling back into his old habits, his old mannerisms; and in being prompted about what his day-to-day looked like outside of therapy, Frankie was met with those three phrases. 

“You need to create a routine.”

“I have one,” Frankie says defensively. 

“One that takes you out of your house.”

“I do,” he says. “Work. The store.” 

“And out of your comfort zone.”

Frankie scoffs. As soon as he thinks of a quip, his therapist’s watch beeps. Saved by the bell. 

Frankie rises, getting ready to leave the room. His therapist leaves him with a new assignment. “Clear your schedule. You’re doing nothing but spontaneous decisions tomorrow.”

He takes a breath to calm his frustration. “How will you even know if I’ve done it?” Frankie asks. 

“I’ll know.”

“And if I lie?”

“I’ll know,” his therapist reassures. 

Which is why he finds himself in the early afternoon at a coffee shop, during what looks like to be its busiest hours of the day. Shit. 

He enters the line as he scans the menu on the wall, the line being long enough he’s sure he’ll make a decision by the time he gets to the register. He usually gets straight black coffee, but taking his therapist’s word a little too seriously, he opts for something else. 

Hazelnut? No. Mocha? No. Vanilla? No. Fuck, okay, this is harder than it looks.

He scans the tinier board off to the side for today’s special: an horchata latte, either iced or hot. Horchata? He can absolutely get by that. The guy at the register takes the order of the customer in front of him, and the same guy switches off and begins to make the customer’s drink. Waiting to be helped, Frankie reaches into his pocket to get his wallet ready, but still angsty from the hustle and bustle of the coffee shop, his grip fumbles and he drops it. 

He bends down to go pick it up, and as he stands back up, he’s immediately met by the most heartstopping view. You, with a brown apron, a hand-drawn name tag, and powdered sugar adorning your cheek. The smile on your face as you greet him causes his brain to short circuit. 

“Hi! How can I help you today?” you beam at him, completely unaware of the cuteness radiating off of you, melting his anxieties made of wasps and transforming them into the shape of flapping butterflies all throughout his tummy. 

“I- um, hi- yeah, I’d, um-” he stumbles on his words. You smile at him, nodding your head patiently and understanding. “Shit, sorry-” he laughs nervously. 

“You’re okay,” you giggle, slightly intrigued at the flushed state of the man before you. “This your first time here? We’ve got a lot of options, it can be very nerve wracking picking from our menu,” you comfort, probably assuming it’s the first-time jitters taking away his ability to speak. 

“Oh, uh- yeah, it’s my first time here,” Frankie confirms. “But actually, I had my mind set on today’s special? The horchata latte?” 

Your face lights up like a million suns, and his heart feels like it’ll burst any second now. “Oh my gosh, really?!” you squeal. “That’s my creation we’ve highlighted today,” you say excitedly, “and you’re actually the first to order it!” You ring up his total, Frankie handing you his card to swipe in the machine. “Hot or iced?” 

“What do you think?”

You study him for a moment. “Personally, I like iced because horchata in itself is already so refreshing, so it adds to that. But you seem like you’d prefer it hot, which is also objectively just as good.”

“Wow,” Frankie says with a smile.

“Was I accurate?” 

“Right on the nail,” he confirms. 

“Your name?” you ask, reaching for a cup.

“My name?” He asks, confused.

You gesture to the cup with a smirk. “For your order?”

“Oh,” he says. You catch the blush that falls on his cheeks. “Frankie,” he tells you, his hand shooting to the back of his neck to soothe his awkwardness.

“Well, Frankie,” you say after writing his name. “I’ll need an honest review after,” you smile at him as you turn away, signaling for someone else to take register so you can be the one to make his drink. 

He can’t help the cheesy smile that forms across his face at the prospect of getting to speak with you again. He turns around and searches for an open table. 

He sat on his phone for a few minutes, waiting for his name to be called when someone clears their throat in front of him. He looks up to see you, powdered sugar still kissing your cheek and two drinks — one iced and one hot — in your hands with that smile he’s slowly becoming addicted to. 

“Didn’t know you guys do table service?” Frankie asks, in a joking manner but truly he’s curious.

“We don’t,” you smile smugly as you place his cup in front of him. “Told you I needed my review.”

He smiles at you, then reaches for a napkin and lifts his hand towards you as you sit in the seat across from him. He gestures to your cheek. “May I?”

You go pale. “Oh, God, don’t tell me I’ve had shit on my face this entire time?” 

“Okay, then I won’t,” he offers gently. You lean closer into his hand, giving him the green light. He wipes the powdered sugar from your cheek, his face in concentration mode as he makes sure to wipe it all off. He feels you staring, his face heating up the longer your eyes are on him, but he doesn’t break. 

“There,” he whispers, “the shit is gone.” Your faces are still inches from each other. 

“Thought you weren’t gonna say anything?” you whisper back. 

He breaks the proximity first, clearing his throat to steady himself. He doesn’t reply to your remark. Instead, he grabs the coffee and brings it up to his lips. “Let’s see what this is all about, yeah?” The second the hot liquid touches his tongue, he knows his days of black coffee are over. It’s creamy, the perfect amount of cinnamon, a perfectly pulled espresso shot that highlights the natural nutty undertones — it’s fucking perfect, and he tells you exactly that. 

“Guess now you’ve got an excuse to come back,” you tell him. 

“I think I had an excuse before that,” Frankie quickly lets out before taking another heady sip, referring to the beautiful human sitting past him. 

You lean back in your seat, arms crossed over your chest, something akin to trouble written across your face. “Yeah,” you breathe. “Yeah, I guess you did.” 

He’s experienced enough to know when someone is flirting with him. He’s experienced enough to notice a mutual attraction. Yet, there’s something so bold, so intoxicating about you that you’ve thrown him off balance. Whether you’re just a naturally friendly, bold person, or you’ve actually taken an interest in him, there’s no way he’s going away now. You’ve got him hooked. 

You need to create a routine, he was told, and creating a routine is exactly what he’s going to do. 

It’s been six months since his first visit, and in those six months, he’s had the opportunity to really get to know you. 

In the first month, he visited twice a week, once during the weekdays and once on the weekends. He made sure to time it on what he noticed to be your shift, and he also timed it for right when you were about to take your break. Catching on pretty quickly, you offer him a bit of reassurance. 

“My schedule is the most consistent out of all of my coworkers, by the way,” you say, sipping on your iced mocha. 

His ears perk up. “Yeah? Why’s that?” 

“Been here the longest, so the owners let me play around with my schedule and pick up shifts that I want to,” you tell him. “But my therapist a few years ago told me to set a routine for myself, so-”

Frankie chokes on his coffee with a laugh. 

“Oh my god,” you giggle, “you okay?” you ask him, leaning forward to pat on his back. 

Frankie’s breath falters at the contact. “Y-yeah, I’m good,” he pulls away from your embrace out of nervousness. If you notice, you don’t mention it. “Just threw me off a little.”

“Why? What’d I say?” you reply. 

“No, it’s nothing, it’s just,” he sets his coffee down. “A month ago, I had a therapy session, and my therapist told me the exact same thing. They literally told me I needed to create a routine for myself,” he says. 

“Oh,” you say with a straight face. Your face goes unreadable for a second, and he feels like he fucked something up. “So is that why you’ve been harassing me for weeks on end?”

Frankie looks like he’s just seen a ghost, pale and flushed at the same time, his ability to form any kind of words rendered impossible. “I- no, I-”

In his state of panic, he’s looking everywhere except you. He feels your hands wrap around his, and you’re leaning closer to him, forcing him to look into your eyes. “Frankie, I’m joking,” you coo. You can see his jaw unclench as he searches your eyes for any signs of discomfort from him. Nothing. There’s something there as he holds your stare, but nothing tells him you don’t want him here. A shy smile forms on his face, and the bashful blush on his cheeks return. He knows you notice it, but still, you don’t mention it. 

“For what it’s worth,” you speak again. “I enjoy having you in my routine, too,” his own giddy demeanor reflecting back at him through you. There goes the butterflies again. 

Five months in, and he’s coming into the shop everyday. He doesn’t always get coffee, but mostly, he’s there to see you. Sometimes you’re way too busy to take a break any time soon, so he’ll slip in, give you a little wave hello, accept your sweet smile in return, and he’ll slip out. 

“Gonna actually get something today, Morales?” 

A few visits ago on your break, you ask him if his name is short for anything, and quickly add in that if Frankie is what he prefers, you don’t care to know anything else. His heart melts at the sentiment, at how understanding and gentle of a human you are. Not only to him, but to everyone who has the privilege to interact with you. 

Francisco Morales, he tells you. Francisco, Frankie, Frank, you can call me whatever you want. This time, he thinks he catches the heat creeping on your face, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. 

“Morales, huh? And what do you mean actually?”

“I’m not dumb, Frankie,” you smirk. “I know you don’t get anything a few of the times you stop by.” 

He swears his heart falls out of his ass. He thought you’d be too busy to even notice. As a former special op, he thought he would have been more slick about it. 

He scans the menu above you, as if he hasn’t studied it a thousand times over, just to get out of your piercing gaze. “Just tryna keep the routine, is all,” he retorts. 

“The routine, huh?” you smile at him, a hint of mischief in your eyes, along with that same something he can’t quite identify — it makes his chest swell. “Your favorite is back on the menu, by the way.” 

Frankie turns to the special board: horchata latte. Smiling to himself before he responds, “I’ll have that, then,” he says, reaching for his card. “You going on your break now?” he asks. 

“Yes,” you reply, “and coffee is on me today.”

His eyebrow quirks up at you. “Please?” you tell him with the world’s worst (more like cutest) puppy dog eyes he’s ever seen. How the hell can he say no to you now?

“Fine,” he deadpans. 

You squeal in excitement. You shoo him away to go find a seat, and you’re at his side within moments, two hot cups in your hands. 

He looks quizzically at the other cup. “I don’t know, I’m just feeling like a hot cup today,” you shrug. “What can I say, you’ve influenced me,” you giggle, not realizing just how much that statement affects Frankie’s crushing little heart. God, you’re beautiful, he can’t help but think as you curl up as best you can in your chair while you sip on your coffee. He knows he shouldn’t feel this way about you. One, you’re practically his best friend at this point, and two, you probably wouldn’t want anything to do with someone like him. 

“So,” you say, pulling him from his thoughts. 

“So,” he repeats. 

“I was actually thinking of taking this weekend off,” you tell him. 

His face falls a little, but he’s quick to fix it before you notice — hopefully. “Oh, is everything okay?” he asks. 

“Nothing bad,” you reassure him. “I just think I need a little weekend to myself before the busy holiday season really starts.” 

“That’s understandable,” Frankie replies. 

“Yeah,” you say softly. “But…” you trail off. 

“Buuuut?” He drags the word out for dramatic effect, sensing your nervousness and wanting to help calm you. 

You giggle at his antics. “But I don’t wanna break our routine,” you say quietly. A little oh escapes his mouth. “I was wondering if you- if you wanted to hang out, maybe? On Saturday? Or even Sunday? Whatever works for you… and you can obviously say no, don’t feel obligated-” 

It’s always been you cutting him off from his overthinking and comforting him, and now it’s his turn. He leans forward, wrapping his hands around yours as they hug your coffee cup. He gives you a little squeeze and calls your name gently. “I would love to.”

“Okay,” you say sweetly. “Wanna do a movie night?”

“Anything you want,” he tells you.

It’s surprising he didn’t have your phone number until five months in. Though, come to think of it, he’s seen you practically everyday since he met you. And there was no need to communicate beyond that. Right? 

Shaking his head to clear him from his thoughts, he copies your address from your guys’ text thread and pastes it into his maps. It takes him five minutes to get to your place, and as soon as he gets to your front door, you’re already opening before he has a chance to knock. 

“Oh! Frankie, hi,” you gasp delightedly. “Perfect timing,” you laugh. “I was just gonna grab the groceries out of my car. Go inside, make yourself at home.”

“Hi,” he smiles, “I can help with the groceries?”

“Oh, that’s okay, it’s just one bag. Give me one second,” you say walking to your car. 

He waits for you as you grab the bag, both of you walking back inside together. “So I’m terrible at picking a movie, and if I didn’t narrow down our options, I feel like we’d be here all night deciding.”

“What do ya got for me?” he smiles as he makes his way to your couch, purely just enjoying being in your presence regardless of the movie you both decide to put on. 

“Alright, since we’re nearing Christmas, I have a few holiday options, and then a few general of my favorites — Elf, The Grinch, or Home Alone; or we can do my personal favorite, but I promise I’m good with whatever you choose, Labyrinth, Paddington 1 or 2-”

Frankie’s eyes light up at the latter option, and you immediately catch on. “Okay, so I’m guessing one of the Paddington’s?” you say with a snort. 

He grimaces. “Was it that obvious?” 

“Frankie, you literally looked at me like I am your entire world,” you laugh. “Yes, it was that obvious.”

“I mean, it’s not any different than how I usually look at you,” Frankie says without thinking. Immediately his hand is on his mouth. 

He sees the shock on your face for a millisecond before you’re back to your usual cool and collected self. How the fuck do you do that? “Okay but which Paddington? There’s only one right answer, here.” 

Although his heart is still beating through his damn chest, the question puts him back on track. “Paddington 2, duh,” he says without missing a beat, he rolls his eyes as he playfully scoffs at you. 

“Good answer,” you say sternly but with a smile. You set up your TV onto Paddington 2 and then quickly run to the kitchen to grab the popcorn you made. You set the bowl on your coffee table, turning back to grab something to drink. “What’s your drink of choice? I’ve got water, tea, soda — I can whip up a coffee for you, too, if you’d like,” you yell to him. 

“Hmm, enticing, but I’m okay with water for now, though, thank you.”

You return back to your living room, scanning the table making sure you don’t need anything else. You ask Frankie if he does. 

“Just you,” Frankie says, again, not thinking before he speaks. God damn it, Francisco, get it together. 

You smirk at him, he sees your eyes tracing the red across his cheeks. Christ. “You’ve had me for a while, Morales,” you say under your breath, softly but still loud enough for him to hear. Your words genuinely cause his heart to skip a beat. You settle onto the couch beside him, ignoring his shocked face. “Ready to watch?” hints of your smugness still there. 

“Y-yeah, ready,” he stutters.

Six months. It’s been six months since he met you and his old self would never have expected his day to day to look like this. He’s got a usual stop at your work—always on his lunch since you start later—sometimes getting coffee and other times your smile is all that he needs to feel energized for the day. 

You

And on the weekends, you two share a movie night—your version of recharging for your next work week. 

Ever since the first weekend you took off, you loved the mental break it gave you, so Frankie encouraged you to take the leap and start taking off every weekend. The owners agreed, of course. He assured you it wouldn’t break into your routine together. If anything, your time together has increased significantly. You genuinely have no idea what you’d do without Frankie at your side nearly every single day, but there’s something in your heart telling you he’s feeling the same way. 

For six months, since the very first moment he fell bashful in his presence, you’ve been completely and utterly captivated by him. You knew you shouldn’t be feeling this way about him—especially not so early and not for this long—but there’s always been a magnetic pull between you. Both of you know it and neither of you can deny it, especially in the occasional flirty comment made by either of you, but there’s something holding you back from pushing for something more. You’ve grown accustomed to seeing him practically every single day, and one wrong move or one wrong boundary crossed, and suddenly everything is gone. You can’t risk it. You’d rather keep him at arm's length at all times rather than not have him at all. He’s your best friend for crying out loud. You cannot lose him to something so juvenile. 

However, with tonight being your weekend ritual paired with a particularly draining week of work, all you wanted was to curl up in a ball and sleep your entire weekend away. Though, what you wanted more was to see Frankie. He told you it was truly okay if he didn’t come tonight, knowing about how hectic your week was, but you weren’t having any of that. 

“I swear to God, Frankie, I will fight you,” you told him on the phone earlier. 

“Oh, really?” You could hear his smug face in his reply. “I’d like to see you try.”

The butterflies erupt in your belly and begin to fly lower towards your core, igniting a spark in the lower part of you that you’ve been trying to keep at bay for months. You take a deep breath before steering the conversation elsewhere. You know he both hates and loves when you do that—smoothly pulling away from the bait he gives you while saving his ego in the process. You’ve gotten so good at this after years of unwanted flirting from customers. You didn’t realize how perfect this skill would be in keeping your distance from the man you want most.

“Shut up and get your ass over here, Morales,” you tell him. “I know where you live, you should be here by the time I change into my damn pajamas.”

“Should I change into mine, too?” He teases.

You both know Frankie loses every flirty little challenge that occurs between you. Which is why he isn’t surprised at your response, but it still stirs him up nonetheless. “That depends,” you say, your voice dropping in tone. “Are you a gray sweatpants or plaid pajama pants kind of guy?”

“Both,” he says. To the average ear, it’d sound like the most casual response. To your ear, though, you can hear the pain laced in his voice. 

You stifle a giggle. “In that case, yes, please, by all means. Change into your pajamas, baby.”

You don’t leave room for him to reply, ending the call before you can overthink how that was the most suggestive flirty comment you’ve made yet. 

Pulling your head back into focus mode, you go to your kitchen to start preparing the usual snacks you two indulge in during these nights. You also got a new ice cream flavor on your last grocery run that you thought was interesting and wanted to try, but you’ll pull that out when he gets here. Or maybe not. You don’t need to watch him clean off his spoon like the attentive man you’ve come to learn that he is. Your body shudders at the image. 

Goodness, what is up with you today? You are always so good at keeping your feelings down, especially the physical ones. There must be something in the air today, because all you can think about are things you shouldn’t be doing with or to your best friend. 

Before you know it, a knock is at your door, and you cannot help the way your eyes immediately sweep his body from top to bottom with a lingering stare at his center. You’re absolutely shameless with it, too, your tongue darting out to lick your lips as you drink in the sight of him. Gray sweatpants. A dark green, fitted tee. You are drooling. 

Your eyes finally meet his own, and you’re met with a smug Frankie, knowing that this time, he won this round. “You alright there?” He asks you. 

Confusion takes over your face. “Huh?”

He brings his fingers up to swipe across his lip. Oh, dear God. “Got a little bit of...” he trails off with a smile. 

Your ears finally register his remark, and your hand is immediately swatting at his chest. “Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes. “Get inside.”

He follows you into the kitchen, a new thing he started doing a few weekends ago to help bring all the snacks to your living room in one go rather than multiple trips. It also takes away from the amount of time he’s not with you, so you never questioned it. Walking back to the living room, you speak once more. “I cannot guarantee staying up the entire time, and I apologize now if I fall asleep on you.”

He says your name in an I told you so manner, “I already told you I didn’t have to come.” 

You’re sitting side by side on the couch now. “And I already told you I don’t care,” you respond back. He shakes his head disapprovingly at your persistence. You know he’s biting back a smile. A goofy smile you’ve caught a handful of times, and you eat up every single one. “You can choose the movie, though, seriously.” Adjusting yourself to a more comfortable position on the couch, a position where the sides of your bodies are closer together, your head finding solace on his shoulder, you add, “I swear, I think I wanted you here to be my pillow.”

“I’ll be anything you want me to be,” he whispers, taking control of the remote to throw on Elf. Your eyes are already beginning to close, and you mutter a small yeah at Frankie’s statement, then you are out like a light.

Frankie

Frankie spends most of the night watching and listening to you rather than the movie. Watching how your nose twitches ever so often or listening to the occasional snore that escapes you. He doesn’t even realize the movie is over until a trailer for another movie is halfway through. His wingspan allows him to reach the remote nearby, and he quickly shuts the television off. 

He debates if he should wake you and make sure you get to your bed safely, or if he should just slip out from underneath you and continue letting you sleep. You look so peaceful, he thinks. Yet exhausted. He decides on letting you sleep. Or at least, he tries to. 

He gently attempts separating himself from you, his hand cradling your head to rest it on the couch cushion rather than his shoulder. Even in your sleepy state, you’re just as stubborn. You smack his hand away and wrap your arms tighter around his arm, nuzzling your head further into his shoulder to gain your comfort back again. You let out a final huff before settling on your position. 

“Sweet girl,” he whispers. He can’t stop the endearment leaving his lips. His heart is too full at the way you’re physically attaching yourself to him. “I need to go,” he says softly. “Gotta let you sleep.” 

Your grip tightens more so, a little whimper leaving your lips as your eyebrows furrow. “Stay,” you mumble. 

And although you’re fully overtaken by sleep, he’ll be damned if he ever argues with you, no matter the state you’re in. He takes a deep, settling breath. “Only for a little while longer,” he mumbles unconvincingly as he minutely adjusts his body to a more comfortable position, his head leaning partly atop yours. 

You

It’s not lost on you—the two words that fell from Frankie’s lips when he thought you were deep in your slumber. It took every ounce of your willpower not to shudder at the way it echoed throughout your fatigue-hollowed brain. 

You thought that maybe, with Frankie’s perception of your sleepy state, you could let part of your inhibitions go with him—reveal to him how you really feel, and pretend the next morning that you don’t remember what you said if something you don’t want to hear is revealed. Though, that’s easier said than done, only able to build the courage to mutter one little word to him as you continue laying in his warm embrace, the soothing sounds of his steady breathing blessing your ears. 

The longer you lay here, the more antsy you become. What could possibly go wrong if you two revealed how you feel to each other? You know one hundred percent that the feelings are mutual; it’s a matter of who breaks first, and quite honestly? You’re fed up. 

You lift your head up, turning to look at him. He’s out.  “Frankie,” you whisper-yell. Nothing. 

“Frankie,” you say a little louder. Still nothing.  How the hell did he doze so fast?

Finally, with a small slap to his cheek and one final call of his name, he’s up—and confused as fuck. 

“Huh-” he blinks heavily. His groggy eyes are searching for you. “Cariño, are you okay? What’s going on?” he rushes out, the sleep disorienting his ability to respond appropriately, forcing worry to the forefront of his mind. 

Too worked up to let his brain chemistry regulate, you rip the bandaid right off. “Francisco, do you have feelings for me?”

Well, fuck. If he wasn’t awake then, he sure as hell is now. 

“I-” he takes a deep breath, still trying to get his brain to catch up with the whiplash of events. “Where’s this coming from?” he asks, slightly defensive from the natural accusatory inflection with a question like this. 

Your face falls. So does his heart. “Frankie, don’t be coy,” you say—you beg. “Please, just answer the question.” 

He breaks your closeness, turning his body on the couch to completely face you. You mirror his movement. His eyes are searching yours. That something he couldn’t quite identify; that something that swims your gaze every time his eyes meet yours? It’s there, and he knows damn well what it is. He was just too afraid to admit it, to mortalize it into something real, something tangible. Because deep down? He knows he doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t deserve the love you give. The loyalty. The care. He’s done too much bad in this world to even fathom a mere chance at a life with you. 

But the way you sit there, staring back at him like he’s your entire world, he can’t stop the selfish desire to spill his truth to you. 

“Yes,” he lets out. The pure admittance is like a ton of weights have been completely lifted off of his chest after carrying it for so long. He can see the relief on your face, too, all your anxieties washing away with a single-syllable, three letter word. 

“Oh, thank God,” you softly giggle as you choke back a sob. Frankie can feel his eyes tear up. 

“Frankie?” you call. 

“Yeah?” He asks. 

“Please kiss me.”

His hands are on your cheeks in seconds, pulling you in to slot his lips with yours, a sweetness laced with a fire that’s been begging to be ignited since he met you—powdered sugared cheeks and a smile that could take a person out faster than any punch in the gut could. 

It’s quick to grow more passionate, his tongue dancing across your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You let him in, of course—your tongue falls into a perfect tango, as if it were meant to be doing this dance with him all along. A soft, breathy moan escapes your lips, and you eventually build enough strength to pull away. 

Frankie’s quick to apologize, his overthinking getting the best of him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get so carried away-”

You pull him in for a quick kiss to shut him up, a little laugh swirling in the air. “At what point did I make it feel or sound like I wasn’t enjoying that?”

In the dim light of your living room, you see a familiar tint glow across his nose and cheeks. He doesn’t—and can’t—respond to your very sound logic. “No, I-” you start, suddenly feeling yourself get all shy. “I pulled away because I- um…I was wondering if y-you-” you cut yourself off in frustration, grumbling out at the way you suddenly can’t face the man whose tongue was in your throat moments ago. 

You pick yourself up off the couch, grab his wrist, and swiftly lead you two to your bedroom. Crossing the threshold of your room, you stop at the edge of your bed. “I-is this okay?” 

Frankie stares at you in a trance, a lust-filled yet pure adoring trance. Before your eyesight can register, Frankie’s dropping to his knees, hands on your hips to urge you to settle on your bed. “This is okay,” he promises. 

He kisses your belly through your pajamas. “More than okay,” he mumbles to no one in particular. 

“Frankie,” you whimper.

“Can I taste you, baby?” He asks, his gaze finally breaking from your eyes to glance down to your core. 

“Y-you don’t have to,” your voice quivers. 

His fingers find the hem of your pants, waiting for your signal. “Oh, I don’t have to,” he tells you. “But I want to,” he inhales. “To be honest, I need to, so fucking bad, baby.”

“Fuck,” you say as you rapidly nod your head for him, his hands wasting no time in pulling your bottoms of you. The desperation laced in his voice alone has your eyes wanting to roll back. You’re settling yourself to the edge of your bed, leaning back as you spread your legs for him. “Take what you want, Morales,” you declare.

He smirks before he dives in. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Oh!” you gasp out at the sensation, pure warmth and passion behind his movements, your head struggles to maintain upright at the sight. Your bottom lip instinctively hides between your teeth in an attempt to stifle the moans threatening to escape you, your tiny little whimpers the only sounds escaping you. 

He starts with a flat stripe up your cunt, his tongue gliding through your folds and lapping up your wetness to bring it up to circle your clit a few times before dragging back down to your entrance. His fingers are curling into your bed sheet tightly, scared to cross any boundaries by moving too fast to your liking. His cock instantly jumps at his senses being consumed; your sweet, tangy taste mixed with the distinct, saccharine scent that’s uniquely you—he can’t control the groan that escapes his throat and floods through you. God, he could spend forever worshiping at your altar, completely and utterly content. 

He pulls away momentarily, the slick bottom half of his face shining back at you. “I just know you can make a lot more of those sweet sounds for me, cariño,” he says as his tongue licks his bottom lip. “It’s just you and me, baby, let me hear you,” he says with a sharp flick of his tongue to your clit. “F-fuck,” you yelp out, your body jolting at the sudden piercing pleasure of his tongue’s movement, your fingers scrambling to the curls on his head. He looks up to you with a smirk, reveling in your reaction.

And with that, his hands are gripping your thighs, his face jumping right back in, completely flush against your center, his nose squished against your mound. His eyes are rolling back at the feel of you, the way your slick just pours for him as he continues licking and sucking everywhere he can reach. “F-feel so good,” you moan, your strength finally breaking as your upper body crashes down onto the bed, your back arching in pleasure. 

His dominant hand releases your thigh, and you can feel his finger teasing your entrance as his mouth treks back up to your needy bundle of nerves. “Frankie,” you gasp, “please.” 

He moans a raspy mhm into you, his finger not wasting another second before he dips inside, utterly turned on at the warmth wrapped around his finger. He can only imagine how you’d feel wrapped around his aching length. 

Frankie lifts off your clit with a pop, his finger still pumping in and out, in and out. Your hips are meeting each movement, desperate moans and incoherent pleas leaving your mouth as he watches your pleasure in a pure bliss.

His eyes fall back down to your cunt and the way it’s greedily swallowing his middle finger. “God damn, baby,” he mutters. “I think you can take another, sweet girl,” he breathes, leaning down again to place an open-mouthed kiss on your sensitive center. “What do ya think?” he asks breathily. 

He’s watching every inch of you—the way your thighs are twitching, the way your fingers are straining in its grip, the way your mouth is falling open into a weak o-shape as you try and force words to leave your mouth. “P-please,” you attempt, “a-another-”

Immediately, he’s straightening out his ring finger to join his middle, his smug smirk falling into a desperate one, needing to pull every ounce of pleasure he can from you really his only goal for tonight. “I’ve got you, cariño,” he tells you, his mouth returning back to lavish you as his fingers curl and hit the spongy trigger button from deep inside. 

You practically yell out for him—neighbors be damned—as your orgasm overtakes every inch of your being, catapulting you into another pleasure-filled dimension. “I’ve got you,” he comforts with his lips still attached to your skin, “let go for me, mi amor.”

His fingers are still pumping inside of you, fucking you through the intense wave of your orgasm. His head rests on your thigh, pressing soft kisses  and sweet praises as you slowly gain consciousness.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“Too good to me.”

“Estoy tan enamorado de ti.” 

Frankie takes your hazy disposition for granted, using this small window to whisper everything he’s been wanting to say to you forever. 

You begin to whimper at his movements, and he takes that as his queue to relieve you. His fingers finally leave, his mouth taking the responsibility of lapping up your slick—thoroughly, you note, as you watch him rise to his full height.

“You okay, cariño?” He asks as he swiftly takes his shirt off. Your eyes grow impossibly darker at his bare torso, your spit falling thicker, and you’re quick to scramble yourself up higher onto your bed. 

“More than okay,” you mirror his words from earlier. He lets out a little laugh, the butterflies in his tummy ever-present as his eyes scan you up and down. He pulls down his sweats, too, before he’s kneeling on the bed, crawling up towards where you’re situated. You can’t help the way your smirk falls when your eyes do—pure hunger consumes your features, and Frankie’s cock jumps at the sight. 

He gulps at the way you’re eating him alive, too eager to be inside you yet too nervous in the case of accidentally messing anything up. The last thing he wants to do is cross the line with you. 

As if reading his mind, you take the initiative to pull your top off, your boobs an immediate distraction from his anxieties. “Don’t get shy on me now, Morales,” you say as you let your hands caress your body and make its way down to your still-soaked pussy. “She’s feeling so empty,” you pout, your hips bucking up as your fingers rub your clit. 

You swear Frankie’s eyes flash red, and he’s caging you against your bed within seconds. One arm hooked around your waist, the other holding himself up near your head. You bracket his hips with your own as his lips hungrily crash into yours. 

You can feel the way his cock rubs against your center, his hips grinding into yours, letting his tip catch onto your clit as your tongues fight for dominance. Your hand snakes down without him realizing, a hearty gasp leaving his throat as your fingers pump him a few times before you guide him towards your entrance, easily pulling him in with your post-orgasm slick. 

He’s slow with the way he’s thrusting into you; pulling out until only the tip is inside only to push all the way in at an agonizing pace as he lets you get used to his size.“S-shit,” he whimpers, followed by your name. “So d-damn g-good,” he takes a shaky breath. “‘S like you were m-made f’me,” he forces out, pained. 

Even though it was an easy glide in, Frankie is fucking huge, his girth still providing a slight sting of a stretch, but you love it. You’re gonna feel him inside you for days at a time, and the thought makes your pussy flutter around him. His hold on your waist tightens in an attempt to steady any squirming that might come from you. “Gonna fucking cum already if you keep on like that, honey,” he groans. His eyes are shut in pained pleasure. 

Fighting against his hold, you start meeting his thrusts, the angle of your hips providing the perfect friction against your clit, you just might cum again in seconds if you both keep this up. 

“I don’t care,” you tell him, your ankles locking around his waist. “Fuck me, Frankie,” you say, grabbing onto his face to making him look at you. “Make up for loss time, and fuck me,” you snarl. 

His lips are sloppily on you, hips speeding up, pounding into you deliciously hard. Both of you are too lost in the pleasure to even properly kiss right now—a mess of spit, tongue, and teeth clashing as you swallow each other’s moans. 

Frankie breaks his lips from yours and he trails his touch lower, biting onto your chin and nipping lower and lower all over your neck. The sensation causes a fresh wave of flutters at your core, evident in the even louder wet squelch each thrust produces from between you. 

You’re feeling so good, too good, that your chest arches into him, and Frankie takes the opportunity to wrap his lips around your erect nipples. Licking and sucking on each, slathering them in his spit before ultimately latching onto your left breast and practically making out with it as he continues fucking you into your matress. 

“Oh my God, Frankie,” you whine, eyes clamping shut at just how good he’s making you feel. “Just like that, baby, please don’t stop,” you say, your fingers finding purchase in his curls for a second time tonight, keeping him on your chest. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum again.”

He lifts off your left breast, and moves on to the right, trailing wet kisses on his path over. “Let me feel you, princesa,” he mutters as he gives your other breast the same treatment. His hand leaves your waist to make its way to your clit, giving you the extra push you needed to fall off the edge once more. Your pussy clenches at the feeling—a stream of yes and please and fuck leaves your mouth—causing his stomach to tighten, dragging him to the edge along with you. “Cum with me,” you say. “Cum in me,” you quickly revise, “need to feel you,” you whimper. 

His fingers speed up on you as his hips falter in its rhythm, and then it’s pure white, hot bliss consuming both of you in a way neither of you have ever felt. “Oh, fuck,” he lets out as he lifts off of your breast, pretty red flowers blooming under his mouth’s touch. Fireworks erupt behind your eyelids, vibrating you from the inside out, as a fire roars through every nerve of his body, leaving him a heaving, trembling, jello piece of mass above you as he struggles not to crush you. 

You can feel the way his muscles are shaking, the bed vibrating with him. A giggle filled with ecstasy escapes you, relishing in the contrast of the airiness of your body compared to the solid mass he turns into post-orgasm. 

You grab onto his shoulders, and softly nudge him to slide to lay beside you before you slip off on jello legs to the bathroom and kitchen. With as much strength he can muster, he turns to you with a frown. “Where you going?” 

“Just gonna get a cloth and water for us both, baby,” you chuckle. You head to the kitchen first and bring the waters to your night stand, taking a large gulp from your glass and forcing him to do the same. You bring yourself back to the bathroom and wipe yourself with a warm cloth, throw it in the hamper, and get a new one to clean Frankie. 

You make your way to his bedside, and you bring the cloth to his face first. He’s quick to stop you. “Frank,” you scold. “What are you doing?”

“I…” his face goes red. “I can still smell you on me.”

You swear your knees buckle, heat overtaking your entire body. “Let me clean it,” you whisper, not really knowing how to reply to that. He just gives you puppy dog eyes. You quirk your eyebrow at him. “You can taste me again later,” you offer with a smirk. 

He thinks it over for a second, a sigh escaping his lips like he just made the hardest decision ever. “Fiiiine,” he drags out, exaggerated. 

After you wipe the rest of him down and bring his cloth to your hamper, he’s quick to reach for you with grabby hands, always needing to be in your embrace—especially more so now.

You cuddle facing each other, your head tucked into his neck as your legs tangle with one another. He’s drawing shapes and lines all around your back. 

“Hey, Frankie?” you call out. 

“Yeah, cariño?” 

“You said something earlier,” you say. “Estoy enamorado something. What does that mean?”

Frankie’s ears go hot. Surely after everything you two just did together, that’s a declaration of love in itself. What more if it’s actually verbalized? “Oh. Um- yeah,” he replies a little rigidly. “Estoy tan enamorado de ti,” he repeats the phrase. 

You’re looking up at him now, eyes bright and curious. “Yeah, that!”

“It- um- it means…” he trails off. He meets your gaze, and his heart stops. He’s so in love with you. 

“Well,” he clears his throat. “It means I’m so in love with you.”

Your gaze shifts from one of curiosity to one of pure, unfiltered love. Your eyes are tearing up at his admission. He brings his finger up to catch a tear escaping your eye. 

You sniffle and take a shaky breath in. “Well, in that case. I’m so in love with you,” you state matter-of-factly, pushing your body up to catch his lips in a soft but lengthy kiss, one that hopefully translates to him just how much you love him, need him, and want him—ever since you took his order. 

He releases your lips to place a soft kiss to your nose then to your forehead before pulling you in closer to relax in each other’s hold. A few more moments pass before he calls your name. 

“Hm?” 

“Can you remind me tomorrow to reach out to my therapist?” 

“Of course, baby,” you say with a kiss to his chest. “Everything okay?” 

“Oh, yeah, baby, everything’s good,” he confirms. “Just need to send them a gift basket or something.”

You look up at him with a confused look on your face. “You and your therapist give each other gifts during Christmas?”

“No,” he tells you. “Well, I thought we didn’t. But in telling me to fix my routine, they led me to you, so.”

“Baby,” you frown, feeling yourself tear up again. 

“I know I pay ‘em to do this,” he says, “but a gift like this? A miracle like this? I feel like I’ve gotta give something a little more.”

Unable to hold in your emotions, you crash your lips against his for the millionth time tonight. Pulling away a little breathless, you say, “Sign my name on there, too.” 

End note: Again, I truly hope you, @alwaysbethewest (and everyone else) were able to enjoy the way this sweet sweet story unfolded. I didn't realize just how much their dynamic would mean to me, but here we are, an entire piece of my heart later💚. Thank you for prompting me exactly what you did. I'm endlessly grateful. Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and Happy New Year! Lastly, I just want to give a little special shoutout to my rock @javierpena-inatacvest for proofreading this story for me and making sure it did our Frankie boy justice. I love you.💚

Tags: @katiexpunk @janaispunk @farmerlarrry @mellymbee @jobee403 @soavenuepenguin @rainbowcosmicchaos @untamedheart81 @lilynotdilly @babygal-babygal @pedritoferg @pedrostories @akah565 @getitoutofmymind @axshadows @survivingandenduring @joels-shitty-puns @its-nebuleuse @yorksgirl

Please let me know if you would like to be tagged in future stories or would like to stop being tagged altogether. Much love! Xx

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

[honeytama]

Nocturne

Merman!Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

A/N: I hope you love Merman!Noah as much as I do. If you knew me on here during quarantine, guess what? I'm back to writing about men with two dicks! ...sigh

Summary: Okinawa Island is just south of mainland Japan and it's where you're spending the few days of your vacation away from reality. You're on the search for fun, excitement, newness, and love. It so happens that someone else is, too.

Content and Warnings: Fluff, comfort, alcohol/intoxication, injury/blood, smut 18+, merman!noah has two phalluses, oral (receiving), raw pnv

Word Count: 12k

Tags: @somebodyels3 @yarasdead @raspberrywatermelon @gh0stfacegf @shilohrosechicken

@thefallennightmare @lma1986

Tokyo, Kyoto, and Osaka were beautiful places you spent the past week in, but Okinawa, an island just south of the mainland of Japan, will be your home for the next few days as your one-woman vacation is nearly to its end. Okinawa’s horizon is gorgeous; all the eye can see of crisp, blue waters and green cliff sides. Excitement buzzes through you as you approach the beachside condo in the driver's seat of the rental car from the Naha Airport. 

Last week, you spent all your time in different hotels while traveling to different parts of the country, only staying a day or two at a time in a new bed, but this time, you splurged to stay in an Airbnb on the island's coast. You figured that after spending a lot of time being a tourist on the mainland and being safe with your decisions, you could have a chance to be more relaxed before you had to return home— and return to work. You feel more confident after spending a week in the larger cities; you’re able to speak the little Japanese you know and English, you have found all the foods you like and how to order them, and navigating yourself was becoming easier. This place could become a second home, you think.

Walking through the front door of the condo, you’re able to see right through past the kitchen and living room to the back of the house’s floor-to-ceiling windows. Your backyard is the ocean. However, the building was built on a cliff, so you would have to find a more safe way to reach the soft sands that call you below.

It’s morning, so you figure it’s time to find your favorite Japanese breakfast items and spend the day exploring. On the itinerary, especially, is to figure out how to get down to the beach. 

—

You spent the day eating a few meals around town. You decided not to take the car out, so you walked for the majority of the day finding things to do.

Looking for entertainment for the beach, you found a comfortable bookstore and walked around for an hour scouring for something to read. They had everything you could need in different Japanese writing systems and also plenty of options in English. You found a couple of romance novels, both spicy and sweet love stories, that would help amuse you as you lie on the sands tomorrow. 

Love was the reason you were in Japan, to begin with. Besides always wanting to be in the country, you desperately needed time off from reality. You felt stuck while at home, but you have found, and hope to find more of, fun, excitement, and newness. However, love is something you’re still reaching for—in more ways than one. Before arriving in Japan, you had hoped that some beautiful man would come to sweep you off your feet and take you away from everything you’re hiding from. This just hasn't come true just yet.

While you were perusing at the bookstore earlier in the day, another tourist was speaking to the cashier about some rumors while you peeked at them from behind a shelf. Their conversation made your ears perk up.

“Ningyo,” the woman cashier repeated.

“Ningyo? What did you say that was?” The tourist opened Google on their phone looking for more information, intrigued.

“A mermaid— well ours is a merman,” the cashier corrects herself. “The word directly translates to ‘fish-person’. It’s what me and my sisters have been talking about around town with others for the past few years,” she explained. “We think he’s out there still; we can hear him sing at night. Can’t you?”

“Wow, uhm, I’m staying at a hotel further away from the coast, so no, I haven't heard anything. But, that’s amazing!” The tourist exclaimed. “Do you know what a siren is? Do you think he’s dangerous?”

The cashier giggled and gave the tourist their receipt. “There have not been any reports of people going missing or being injured, so I assume our mystery merman is safe,” she shrugs. “I’ve never seen him, to be frank, all of this is just rumors— a legend. But, you should go out to the beach at night to hear his voice. You won't be disappointed.”

You laugh to yourself about their conversation on your hike back to the condo during this late afternoon. A mermaid? Merman? Please. There is probably some wannabe boyband guy in the neighborhood who likes to practice his music on the beach at night. 

You are surprised that it has been going on for so long though. Wouldn't this guy want others to know that it’s him? That he’s the guy with the amazing voice everyone in town is talking about? You think to yourself.

On your way back to your temporary home, you stumble across a part of the town that’s less busy than the rest. You imagine you had taken the wrong way back, but you swear you’re great at navigating yourself now. There’s no way you could have made a mistake while you're holding Google Maps open on your phone watching every step and counting the minutes it takes before you get back to the door of the Airbnb.

Nevertheless, you’re not lost, just somewhere you didn't expect. With no one around to help, you take a step off of the road to walk over to the railed cliff’s edge to regain your surroundings and reroute toward the correct direction.

Looking over the railing, you admire the teal waters crashing against a group of large slate rocks along the beach that form seafoam that sizzles along the sand. You notice the cliff is quite steep and wraps around a small portion of the beach below you. The edges of it are lined with moss and fern-covered rock walls and green, lively trees for shade. It’s a cove; a private one. The sands look so smooth and on a perfect, warm, sunny day like this, you were sure it should have been packed. You spot a trail that leads down to it when you look up to your right. You found your way down to the beach, you think.

—

The next morning you awake and walk around your apartment eating onigiri. You pack up all your favorite beach essentials, excluding an umbrella, because you hoped the tall trees you spotted at the cove would be enough to protect you. While packing, you hum a tune to yourself, and taking a slow bite from your food you realize you have never heard the song before. You must have made it up in your sleep, you think.

You had pinned the location of the cove in your phone and followed directions back to where you were yesterday afternoon, hoping not to get lost again. 

Once on the familiar cliff again, you take the trail and snake yourself down to the bottom, carefully, which leads you out into your own, personal paradise. A private cove for you to spend the next few days relaxing in.

You make haste to set up everything and to start enjoying your books. A wide beach towel is laid out onto the soft, pale sands. You feel the sand between your toes and fingers; it’s perfect. You set up your Bluetooth speaker and roll up an extra beach towel to use as a pillow. Lying back with your sunglasses on and in your favorite swimsuit, the trees cover just enough to where the sun can leak through and tan your body, but not enough to where you are blinded as you open your first book.

You relax for a couple of hours reading your story and listening to music. You’re relieved you brought water and snacks, too, unbelieving you would get this comfortable. As you turn your music down to change it over to a podcast while you eat, you hear a loud splash come from the water before you. 

Looking up quickly, having been startled by the noise, you spot a large, dark tailfin ducking back under the water behind one of the large, pointed rocks.

“Oh, shit,” the sight makes you sit up on your towel. You pull your sunglasses off hoping to catch a good look at the fin if the animal were to return to the surface. “That thing was huge,” you whisper to yourself. Although you have become familiar with a lot while on your vacation, this was the first time you have been close to Japanese waters, so you have no clue about the types of fish or other things that could be lurking in the shallows. 

On your way out of the cove, you take one last peak at the water. It’s almost still with just the tide coming in to layer over the sand, but you could have sworn you could feel someone’s eyes watching you the entire time and not from the top of the cliff. You feel it coming from the direction of the ocean.

—

“I need to hear it, too,” you thought drunkenly as your feet dragged you back to the cove’s entrance.

Earlier in the night, you thought to indulge yourself in a night of drinks, mingling, and dancing. You went out to a couple of bars in town in a white, frilled spaghetti strap dress that hits you mid-thigh and a pair of platform, strappy sandals. You danced freely with some sweet groups of women you found at each bar; your hands caressed your own curves and you moved your hips to the beat around you. Your spirit caught the eye of many different men, from all backgrounds, who were hitting on you throughout the night and feeding you drinks constantly.

It felt good. Their attention is what you wanted, and you flirted with them back; making small conversations and touching their biceps and shoulders to show you’re interested. Maybe one of them could be the one? You thought. I can find love here. However, too many drinks being pushed your way eventually turned you off to them and they were turned off by how you stumbled out of the bar to walk home.

Walking back to the condo, you come across the same road you were lost on. You look over the railing above your private cove and the waters are dark; they crash against the sands and boulders off to the side of the beach.

“I wanna swim,” you speak aloud. “No, that’s dangerous,” you shake your head. “I’ll just— stand in the water. Feel nice,” you mumble.

You think about the woman who you overheard speak at the bookstore. The ningyo. His alluring voice that sings through the night.

“That’s not real,” you giggle to yourself. “Well, I could prove it her wrong. I just need to see if I can hear him. Need to hear him,” you repeat as your sandals pull you away from the rail.

You stumble over to the cove’s trail entrance and carefully make your way down to the sands, just as you did this morning.

Once below, you undo your sandals from your feet and take your purse to throw them all into a pile of sand. You make your way to the edge of the water and step in the deep blue inch by inch until you can no longer see your ankles. 

“Sing, please,” you wave your arms at the water like it will talk back to you. You start to hum the song that riddled your brain when you awoke in the morning while kicking the water up with your feet. “Ningyo, if you dont start singing right now then I’m leaving,” you yell out to the obscured horizon. 

The ocean stays silent. 

“Fine.”

You take a few steps back toward the shore, but the high tide is so heavy on your legs that it’s difficult to move in the direction you would like. You end up moving at a diagonal towards the jagged rocks that you feared; salt water splashes against them violently. You stick your hands out to brace yourself, but a large tidal wave knocks you off your feet and your head finds the rocks first.

You yelp before falling into the water. Your face is fully submerged as you look up at the moon through the salt water in your eyes. Watching your eyelids close slowly, everything fades to black.

NOAH’S POV

Where’d she go? I think to myself with heavy concern.

I’ve been looking after this girl for the past day and never once did I expect her to be injured while on my watch. I was amused at how she called out to me and I feel ashamed for watching her stumble into the rocks after leaving because I wouldn’t sing. I should have just indulged her instead of teasing her. If I did, then maybe she wouldn’t be lost under the waves. 

I swim towards the rocks with purpose and see her floating there face up. She looks limp.

“Please be alive,” I whisper as I take her body into my arms. I hold my ear to her chest for the sound of her heartbeat and it thumps in my head. Relieved, I allow myself to take a deep breath of air and allow my own heart rate to die down. I swim the best I can through the shallow water with her in my arms until we reach the shore.

I lay her down on the sand and fix her dress so that she’s fully covered. The huge gash in her forehead makes me wince and deep, red blood seeps out of it unhindered.

As her lips begin to turn blue, I realize I need to work faster. I raise my right hand over her lips and twist my fingers as if I’m going to pull a rope from between them. Instead, a stream of saltwater is pulled from out of her lungs and through her open mouth until it forms a sphere above her head. I flick my hand to the side and the water bubble splashes into the sand around us. The tingle from my magic use covers my arms and shoulders in goosebumps.

I need to see her chest rise and fall again. She needs air, I think. Raising myself over her, I pinch her nose with my fingers and bring my mouth to hers. I push the thoughts about her soft lips pressing to mine and blow air into her chest. It rises against mine as her lungs fill up, so I continue to suck in air and blow into her mouth and when she begins to cough, I know to pull back. 

The girl lies there still, unconscious. My hand brings itself to cover the gash on her head in full and I put in energy to allow my magic to flow into her, to heal her. The stream of her blood stops, and I can feel her skin closing under my palm.

My head falls in relief that she’ll be okay and my wet bangs tickle her cheek.

Uncovering her head, there’s just a faint scar above her eye that will fade even more, over time. I roll over to the side and lie on my back next to her. I can’t help but think she’s the most beautiful being I’ve ever seen, even with her hair tousled, clothes soaked, and eyes softly closed. Well, maybe those things make her even more appealing.

I’ve been close to very few humans in my life, but I swear she’s the only one that has ever truly intrigued me like this. 

I have wanted to know her since she stepped foot into my cove this morning. I think she’s already seen my tail, but I want her to know all of me, too.

“I’ll meet you in the morning,” I whisper.

—

READER

You sit up with a gasp.

“Ah, shit,” you mumble and shade your eyes from the sun rising over the horizon. 

While adjusting your eyes to the brightening blue sky and reflective teal waters, you notice an array of colors lying on the sand in your peripheral. Artwork? Your eyes fully adjust and the sight of a Japanese traditionally tattooed arm moves next to your thighs. 

“Oh, my God!” You yelp and push yourself further back on the sand with your hands and feet. You look down and see the same white dress you wore out to the bars last night. What happened? You think.

Looking up slowly, you see that there wasn't just a severed, tattooed arm mere inches from your body, but a whole man. A man with a tail.

The ningyo, you think. The merman is on the beach with me.

You cover your mouth with the thought that it will muffle your quick, anxious breathing; you didn't want him to know you were awake for many reasons, but mainly you were curious about him and needed time to examine his form.

Crawling on your knees toward him, you notice not just his arm is tattooed, but his entire human-like skin. His neck, torso, arms, and you assume his back, too are covered in Japanese traditional tattoos. The artwork of koi fish, waves, scales, and clouds all meld together in black, gray, and vibrant accent colors throughout his body. How does he have tattoos? You wonder.

It’s saddening that you can see his face; he has his forearm thrown over it. You assume it’s to shield from the sun’s rays as he sleeps soundly. The outside of his forearms have dark, feather-like fins. They look so soft; you want to reach out and touch them. His hair is short with bangs that shape his temples from what you can see. His wrist and neck are adorned with jewelry made from stringed, tiny pearlescent shells. Looking around his chest and sides, you see no gills.

Trailing your eyes further down, his tail begins a few inches under his navel and it’s the most brilliant thing you’ve ever seen. His tail is long and it's halfway in the saltwater; you assume if he were standing he would be over six feet tall. The majority of his scales are slate, almost black, and would probably look like obsidian underwater. They have a shimmering shift under the light of the sun that makes them look wet, even when dry. These same scales go all the way down to his tailfin and the ends of his tailfin feather out just like his forearm fins. However, along his hip, he has a strip of pearl-colored scales that run down the length of his tail. You assume he has the same strip on his other hip, as well.

Overall, you are aware of your heart pounding in your chest. The cashier from the bookstore was right… There is a merman living in the waters of Okinawa. He’s gorgeous, too.

“Ah,” you hiss as you sit on your heels next to him. You feel a raging, throbbing pain in your head. Feeling over your forehead, there’s a light ridge under your fingertips in the form of a scar. Looking down at the man, you think that he must know why you’re at the cove this early in the morning in the clothes you wore the night before. Taking a deep breath, you tap his shoulder, curiously, hoping to wake him. “Ningyo.”

He stirs awake and removes his arm from his eyes. You watch him slowly sitting up on his elbows. “Hmm,” he groans while squinting to adjust his eyes to the morning.

“H—Hi,” you speak up and wave at him to get his attention. 

The merman twists his head towards your direction and your eyes meet. Beautiful maple eyes widen at yours. “Oh,” he says, blinking as if to check if you’re real. “Hi… You're awake.”

“Mhm,” you hum and fiddle with the end of your dress. “Nice to meet you. My name’s Y/N.”

“I’m Noah,” he extends his hand for you to shake. You reach out to him and his hand engulfs yours. He brings it to his lips and presses a soft kiss into the back of your hand. Must be a tradition for him, you think, blushing.

He smiles at you in awe with his teeth. You notice one of his lower canines is covered with a shiny, pearlized coating and it gleams at you sultrily. 

“Could you tell me why I’m here, please?” You feel comfortable, but your voice speaks nervously. Your fingers come back to your head as the pain pulses beneath your skin.

He looks out onto the horizon and his tail moves under the water as he thinks. “You came here by yourself last night. I think you might have been intoxicated,” he explains. You feel heat rush over your cheeks in embarrassment. “I watched you fall into the rocks over there,” he nods across the beach to your right. “You got a bad head wound and you drowned.”

“I drowned?” You ask incredulously while holding your chest.

“It’s ok. I pulled you out of the water and brought you here,” he motions his hand from the rocks to where you are now and his forearm fins fan out. “I hope you don’t mind— I had to use some magic on you or I might have lost you,” he says. “I spent the night looking after you to make sure you were okay.”

“Thank you,” you nod at him with a grateful smile. He does nothing to hide himself, and you realize he must have stayed overnight with you to see you in the morning. The thought of him watching over you makes you flush.

“Also—,” Noah’s face turns pink and he looks away from you with a smile. “I had to resuscitate you. It’s called mouth-to-mouth, right?” 

Oh. You feel your hands turn clammy, so you rub them on the front of your dress. “Yeah, that’s right. I’m sorry, by the way.”

Noah flips over to his side and rests his cheek in his hand. His tail follows suit and his movement flows the water toward you in a small wave that pools at your knees. He looks at you concerned with furrowed brows. “Why would you say you’re sorry?”

“Well, for one, you shouldn’t have had to go through so much trouble to save my life last night. I was being stupid. I don’t know why I came here,” you talk towards the blue horizon. “Second, you were right. I was drinking. I’m sorry that you might have tasted it on…” you bring a hand to motion towards your lips. “Or that you had to put your mouth on mine, at all,” you turn and laugh at him half-heartedly, but his face looks even more confused than before.

“Don’t apologize,” Noah says assertively. “I needed to save your life. You needed help and I was here to do that. Also, don’t be embarrassed about your actions… You looked cute yelling at me to sing to you.”

Yelling at him to sing to you? What was I thinking? You think. “I don’t know how to thank you,” you smile and shrug your shoulders.

Almost immediately, he replies, “Spend the day with me.”

“What? You don’t even know me,” you giggle. “Also, what do you mean? You want me to sit here on the beach with you until the evening comes around again?”

“Well, that’s the thing. I want to know you,” Noah says matter-of-factly. “We could do that, but I don’t like staying on land for more than half the day. I was thinking we could hang out in the water?” He nods towards the ocean.

“Ok, yeah, we can go swimming,” you nod. “I don't think I’ll be able to go too far though.”

“I have something in mind that can help,” he says with a smirk. “If you would feel more comfortable, then go home and change into your swimming gear and meet back here in an hour… It’s a date.”

A date? You’re going on a date with a merman after just meeting him? Out of all of the men you have met on your trip, he’s the only one who’s made the move for something romantic. And, your swimming gear? Ha! More like one of the skimpy swimsuits you had brought on your trip, you think.

“Okay,” you stand up to your feet and Noah looks up at you with his hand shielding his eyes from the sun. “I’ll be back soon,” you begin to walk towards the sand pile you threw your things onto the night before, before turning back to him. “Don’t you dare disappear on me, Noah.”

He laughs and pushes himself further into the water; his biceps flex under the weight of himself, “I wouldn't dream of it.”

You pick up your bag and sandals and watch Noah dive further into the water. The splash of his dark tail leaves a spray of sparking droplets in the dawn sun.

—

It’s still morning time, but you have returned to the cove having eaten breakfast with your beach bag sitting in the sand. You changed into your favorite swimsuit, which in your opinion seems just fine for a date and swim session with a merman. No big deal. 

While at the condo, you quickly paced around trying to change your clothes and locate everything you needed while simultaneously forming a hundred questions about Noah. All the while, having to deal with a racing heart and jitters as the merman you met less than two hours ago asked you out on a date— rather he declared it a date. That’s so much hotter, you think. Calming yourself, you thought that today would be the best opportunity to ask him everything that you wanted to know. 

How does he have so many tattoos? Did tattoo guns work underwater?

The most pressing question on your mind is asking him about his song. It must be the one you keep hearing in your dreams.

You see Noah’s head rise over the water in front of you and he stops ten feet away from the shore. “You came!”

“Noah!” Leaving your things behind, you walk into the water and slowly adjust to the new temperature. You make your way to him, having to step off of the coast’s shelf. You swim in place in front of Noah while the seafloor is probably over twelve feet beneath you at this point. “I’m not that confident that I’ll be able to keep up with you,” you admit.

“I told you I had a trick to help you out, didn’t I?” Noah reaches out towards your neck and caresses the soft skin. It tingles underneath his touch. He then brings his hand to the side of your face and his thumb pad rubs over your bottom lip.

Is he about to kiss—? Your thoughts are interrupted when you feel a tight sensation in your throat. “Noah, what are you—,” you croak.

“Shh,” Noah soothingly hushes you as he passes his thumbs over your eyes. “It’s okay. Come under the water with me. I’ve got you.”

You plug your nose and close your eyes as you shove yourself under the surface of the water. A foot under the surface Noah makes sure his presence is known by keeping a soothing hand on your hip. His voice speaks out to you through the water, startling you.

“What you’re feeling is your body coming to balance with the new abilities I’ve given you. Whenever you’re ready open your eyes and breathe. It’ll feel just like it does when you're on land… I promise you,” his fingers graze lightly over your skin, calming you.

His confidence in you gives you enough bravery to open one eye. He’s holding you so close and a grin grows on his face when he sees you slowly open up. You open your other eye after realizing you dont get the usual sting from the saltwater from having them open underwater for too long. It feels normal. Your eyes widen at Noah when your chest starts to burn from the absence of air. Feeling anxious, you lose the ability to control the wading of your arms and legs and begin to sink.

“Take one breath. It’ll be okay,” Noah pulls you against his chest by wrapping his arms around your waist. “Remember if you drown, I’m right here. I’ll save your life every day if I need to,” he whispers. 

Nodding vigorously at his words, you quickly suck in and blow out. A burst of bubbles spews from your mouth, but you feel fine— better now that you’re letting oxygen into your lungs.

“I can breathe under—,” You stop mid-sentence realizing you can hear yourself, too. 

Noah throws his head back and laughs; his hair flows through the water with his movement, “I just need to give you better swimming ability and we’ll be ready to go.” He lets go of your waist and dives towards your bare legs. He places his hands around your ankles and they feel the same tingly sensation as before. “Alright, let’s go,” Noah holds out a hand for you to take.

“Where are we going?” You ask while hesitantly taking his hand in yours. Noah begins to swim with you by his side and you’re able to kick your legs fast enough to meet his pace. 

“I’m going to show you around,” he smiles.

—

After a few hours of talking and swimming through Okinawa’s waters, you’ve gotten to do things you never imagined. Noah took you through the colorful reefs that are home to sea turtles and colorful fish, coral, and sea anemones, he brought you to meet a family of dolphins and you both held onto their dorsal fins swimming through the water, and you talked about where he lived and he promised he would show you soon. 

Right now, you follow closely behind him as he leads you along the sandy floor through a forest of seaweed that are as tall as trees back home. The sun glows through the ripples of the surface sending rays of light that adorn Noah’s skin. 

He stops at a wall of seaweed and smiles back at you before using his hands to spread apart the stalks. It opens up to a clearing in the forest with golden sands that sparkle under the high sun. In the middle of the clearing is a large, deep green blanket and as you swim closer to it you see it's woven from fibers of seaweed and other plants.

“I have nothing for you to eat, but I did set up this blanket for us while you were getting ready this morning,” he gives a sheepish smile as if he’s sorry he couldn’t give you more. “Kind of like a picnic.”

Taking a seat on the woven blanket, you run your fingers through the material. While it’s made of seaweed, its fibers feel satisfying to the touch and you can poke your fingers through each stitch. 

Noah rests beside you, lying back and supporting himself with his hands. He closes his eyes and basks in the midday sun that rains on you two.

“Can I ask you some questions?” You ask him curiously. “Like, about you being ningyo?”

“I was wondering when I was going to be interviewed,” he nods. “Ask me anything.” He still rests with his eyes closed, but his ears are open.

“Ok, so—,” you stop, realizing there’s an overwhelming number of things you could ask first. “You like to sing?”

He smiles, amused by your question. “Mhm,” he hums and opens his eyes to meet yours. “When I saved you last night, it seems like you know one of my songs.”

“So it is your song! It’s been stuck in my head. I think the place I’m staying is just close enough to your cove that I can hear you while I sleep,” you explain. “And it’s your song? Noah, does every ningyo sing?”

“My friends and I, that’s what we do. We make music, and I’ll usually write the lyrics. Not every ningyo sings, but we all have our own special talents,” he explains. Whenever he touches on the topics most close to him, you can feel his pride radiate off of him.

You start to hum the notes you’ve had in your head, by the time his voice reaches your condo you can’t hear words, just a mumbled tune. “Hmm, what are the lyrics to the one you’ve been practicing the past couple of nights?”

“The song is called ‘The Grey’. The part you’ve heard…,” he hums to himself and tilts his head back and forth trying to find the words. 

“Nobody left for me to talk to, nobody to call

Got everything I could want, but I still wanted more.”

“You should sing it,” you lean and nudge his shoulder.

“I don’t usually have a problem when it comes to practicing around my friends, and we do live performances too, but something about you makes me shy,” he admits. A tinge of a blush dances in his cheeks and nose. “You’re just gonna have to listen to the ningyo like everyone else.”

“Or, you can bring me to one of your live shows?” You ask excitedly.

Noah giggles and shakes his head, amused by your excitement. “You’re invited any time.”

Too bad I’ll only be here one more day, you think to yourself. “How much do you know about humans?” You ask, changing the subject.

“Oh, well, my best friend is human,” he shrugs his shoulders as if it’s not the most surprising thing you’ve heard him say all day. “So, I know a lot… Maybe, too much.”

A tinge of jealousy strikes your chest. Another human in his life that isn’t you. Someone found him before you did, you think. 

As if Noah is reading your mind, he smirks. “I met Nicholas when we were kids… He stumbled across my cove the same way you did and I was more brave with him than you because I introduced myself immediately. He’s my family,” he smiles and then gestures, holding up his wrist, “He’s also my tattoo artist. He has a portable machine and setup that he brings to the beach for when we have sessions.”

“You beat me to ask you about those next,” you smile with relief. “He’s been keeping your secret all these years?”

“Yeah,” he laughs but it sounds like a scoff. “Well, he was, but in the last few years since I’ve started to sing more he was the one that started a rumor about the ‘ningyo’. He says his neighbors love it. A lady who runs a bookstore and her sisters?” Noah breaks out into a fit of laughter and it tickles you to join him. 

“She’s the reason I knew about you,” you giggle pleasantly. 

“I’m glad my existence is entertaining,” he calms himself and reaches out to rest a hand on your thigh.

You gaze into his eyes for a beat before braving to ask, “So, do you have any other human friends I should know about?”

He smiles. “I don’t. My other friends are all like me,” he assures. “I would love for you to meet them, but for right now I just want to keep you all to myself. I hope that’s okay?”

“That’s perfect,” you scooch closer towards him until your knees are against the smooth scales of this tail. Noah is cold-blooded, but he still gives you goosebumps of warmth whenever he’s so close to touching you. “I have one more question to ask.”

“Go ahead,” he caresses up and down your thigh softly.

“Am I the first human girl you’ve taken on one of these dates?” You ask cautiously.

“You are the first girl I’ve brought into the ocean in general,” he admits. “Besides the cove and where I live, this is my sanctuary. It means a lot for me to share it with you.”

While you want to seem relaxed about his response, you still let out a relieved breath. He chuckles and leans into your shoulder.

“To be honest, you’re the only girl I’ve been intrigued with in a long time. When I first saw you come down the cliff and relax on the sand with a book in your hand, I knew you might be the one for me,” he smiles. “This clearing is where I read all of my books.”

“You have books in the ocean?” Your eyes widen at him and you tug on his bicep excitedly.

“Mhm,” his face glows each time you’re enamored by every new piece of information he shares about life below the surface. “I have a library at home. We have shelves, too,” he teases.

“Now, you have to show me,” you whine. “Please.”

“I’ll bring you home before you have to leave Japan,” his lips graze your shoulder with a kiss. “I’ve always wanted to find someone like you.”

Your heart flutters at his words. “I think you’re exactly who I was meant to find, too.”

His dark eyes match yours and a grin grows on his lips. These words are the only ones he’s wanted to hear come out of your mouth since the moment he laid eyes on you. 

“Noah, I’m not just in Japan to relax,” you begin to explain. “Home isn’t perfect as what I’ve found here. I’ve been searching for something new… Someone to love,” your gaze pulls away from him and you stare at the glistening sands of the clearing. “I want someone who will want me,” you pause but don’t dare look up to see his reaction. “I feel so stuck and ignored where I’m from. In my family, at work, every place that I should feel recognized and appreciated… It feels like I’m nothing.” you admit. A ghost of a hand tightens over your heart and squeezes. It hurts to talk about, but even with him, a stranger, it feels right.

“I’m not perfect,” he furrows his brow and runs a hand through his hair. “But, I can give you all of me if you let me.” Noah’s chest tightens too; he can’t bear the sight of your glossy eyes staring back at him so lonely. “I think I’ve felt similarly to you… I’ve been so bored of life. While I love to perform, I’ve felt so burnt out and in need of something new. It’s why I’ve been singing on my own at night; I’m trying to find what makes me feel excited again. I think you’re exactly who I need,” he explains. “I’m so sorry you feel that way about home. I would never make you feel inadequate,” Noah brushes a piece of hair being your hair. “I wish you could stay here with me.”

In Noah’s mind, he recounts the rumors under the sea of how you could stay. He’s been wanting to grant Ruffilo the same privileges, so everyone he loves can be with him at the same time. Noah chooses not to mention it, knowing that it could get both of your hopes up.

“I hate that I have to catch a flight soon,” you say softly. Allowing your feelings to come out as your next words, you whisper, “I don't want to fly away from you.”

You find yourself leaning into him while anticipating if he’ll reciprocate your movements. Your eyes switch between watching his own and his lips; his tongue darts out to lick his before leaning into you slowly.

He leans into you fully, but merely presses his forehead into yours. With his eyes shut tight, he huffs defeatedly, “I want to kiss you so badly, but you need to know that if I do… Something in me won't be able to let go of you.”

You pull away and attach your lips to his neck. He hums under the heat of your mouth and teeth on his jugular. Speaking into his ear you urge him to go forward, “I want it. Whatever it is. I need someone to hold onto me… Like I told you, it’s why I’m here.”

He leans back to meet your gaze. “Are you sure? No matter how I feel…I can’t just take you away from where you’re really from. You need to go home soon.”

Heat builds up in your cheeks and your eyes begin to well up, you bite your lip but allow your heavy emotions to come through your voice, “I would rather be with you, even for a few days more, than to have to return to the life I already know.” His eyes watch you intently, looking for confirmation that you’re telling your whole truth. “Even if this doesn’t work out, I want to know that I tried. I want to love again, Noah.”

His eyes widen in surprise. You would give up everything you knew for him, and he’s starting to realize that. “C’mere,” he brings his hands to your cheeks.

You eagerly pull yourself to your knees. “Please, kiss me,” you whisper while leaning into him once more. Noah pulls you into him and your lips meet him under the afternoon sunlight. “Mmm,” you hum under the soft press of his lips. You feel a pull from your chest towards him growing, almost supernaturally. It feels as if a string is reaching from your chest towards his heart to tie you two together. The golden glow you feel under your skin entices you to pull Noah in closer by tangling your fingers in the back of his hair and holding him by his cheek.

Noah hums and his hands leave your face to roam freely over your exposed skin. Through his passionate kiss, you feel his fingers grazing over your neck, shoulders, and lower towards your thighs. He doesn’t fight you when your tongue presses against his supple lips for entrance. He melds into you comfortably and allows his tongue to explore your mouth, as well.

You believe you’ll never get used to the tingly sensation he brings to you when he touches your skin, whether using magic or not. Being in this secluded clearing and having access to his cove, he has made you feel like the only girl in the world. With him, you sit in the eye of a hurricane and get to watch the world spin by without care if everything will be okay because you know it will be. Noah makes you feel safe and needed; he makes you know that your existence is important and he wants to be a part of it.

As you pull away from his kiss, the smile on his face and his pearled tooth make you melt in his arms.

Giddy in his grasp, you bite your lip, “Why do I feel like something is pulling me into you?” Pointing to the center spot between your breasts, “I feel like I could never lose you.”

“You won’t,” Noah assures. “Come to my place tomorrow night,” he pulls you to lie down on his chest on his blanket. You plan to spend the day away in his arms looking up a the rays of light dripping through the waves above you. “I’ll tell you then.”

—

After going home from your day with Noah, sleeping, and spending the majority of the next day away from him and the sea, you could still feel the same pull on him that you felt when you first kissed him. It felt as if the invisible string that grew from your chest was tethered to him even miles away at your Airbnb. Even when you close your eyes, you know the exact cardinal direction he is at any time. To your surprise, it didn't bother you one bit, because for once you didn't feel alone, and knowing he had the same tie to you, he was looking after where you were, as well.

It’s evening time and Noah planned for you to meet him on the shore of his cove; so you’re currently headed down the cove’s cliff to him. You’re wearing another bikini you packed with a pair of sandals.

He wanted to show you exactly where he lived and to explain the tether you felt towards him; you secretly hoped that he would do more than that, too. To feel pride in having kissed a merman is something you would never thought would be a truth in your life. Noah’s physically different to say the least, but damn does he make your knees weak.

Noah beams waiting for you with his head and shoulders above the dark water. Throwing your sandals to the side and walking towards the edge of the water, you admire his glazed skin under the bright moon. Under the moonlight, his tattoos are riddled with water droplets that shine. His hair is soaking wet as always, falling into into eyes and shaping his temples.

“My place is nearby,” he smirks and nods his head over your shoulder. “We have to dive underneath the island.”

“Dive?” You shift weight on your feet before swimming off into deeper water towards him. Noah is confident in you, but he sees the hesitance on your face.

“You’ve been a great swimmer so far keeping up with me. I know you can do this,” he holds out his hand for you to take, “Just hold onto me and you’ll be safe.”

You take his hand and interlock his fingers with his. “I trust you.”

“Right this way, beautiful,” he pulls you underneath the water and you start swimming over the side of the cove. Even with your tether, you watch the pearlescent strip on his tail closely to not lose him. It’s the brightest part of the entire ocean at this point of the evening. The sun was out when you were here last and Noah probably failed to mention that he has night vision.

Following closely behind him, you squeeze his hand as you two approach a deep cavern that’s carved into the base of the island. 

“Hold on tight to me,” Noah faces you and holds your chin. “We’re going to dive and then swim right back up. I live in an underwater cave, so you’ll be able to walk around and breathe normally once we’re inside, okay?”

“Okay, I got this,” you breathe out steadily and give him an assured smile.

“Hell yeah, you do,” he kisses your knuckles in his hand. “C’mon.”

The strength of Noah’s tail pushes you both deep through the cavern and it’s the first time you feel real pressure on your limbs— and the first time you feel you need to hold your breath. Noah watches over you, and his presence helps you calm your nervous heart and lungs. When he points upwards, you know to swim with him toward the surface and you do so eagerly.

You gasp for air as you reach the surface even knowing you don’t need to. However, the sight around you could make you gasp, too.

Noah comes up to the surface after you and shakes out his wet hair. His gaze falls onto your bewildered expression. “Y/N, are you alright?” Noah asks with worry in his voice. 

“Yeah—,” you answer, truthfully, but you can’t fully focus on his voice as you’re wading through the water of his cave looking around at his home. The room is sizeable with the pool of saltwater you’re in the center of. Noah’s shelves are carved out of the side of the cave and stuffed with books thick and thin. There’s enough room to walk around the pool, but also layers of rock that surround it. Either it’s the material of the rock or the deep teal waters reflecting off of them, but it seems as though the cave’s walls are glowing blue-green. Moonlight seeps in through an opening in the ceiling, but you see he’s set up groups of white pillar candles around the edge of the cave. 

“I borrowed a lighter and candles from Nick,” he chuckles watching your lips turn into an “o”. “It was a pain in the ass to dry them all out and it took all day, but I wanted it to feel more romantic than our picnic yesterday.”

Your neck snaps to Noah, “I loved our date. Thank you though, your place is gorgeous.” You wrap your hand around his bicep and kiss his shoulder for reassurance. 

He melts under your touch. “I did too. Go ahead and rest on the ledge,” he motions towards the side of the pool. “I’ll help you up.”

You swim over to the edge of the pool and turn to face him. You feel his arms wrap around under your butt and begin to lift up. 

“Oh,” a surprised noise falls from your lips as he picks you up with ease and lifts you onto the smooth, rock edge. He also failed to mention his super strength, you think. You cross your legs and rest against the smooth stone behind you admiring the way the flicker of the lit candles reflect off the dark pool of water your calves dangle in.

“There you go,” he smiles up at you and rests his hands on your knees.

Looking around some more, you realize his place is pretty empty. There are two instruments that are reminiscent of guitars leaning on the opposite wall. Other shelves along the walls have wooden boxes and trinkets displayed, but he doesn’t have a bedroom, bathroom, or a kitchen. “Where do you sleep, Noah?” You ask, looking down at him. 

“You’re wondering if I have a bed?” He shoots you a smooth wink and raises his eyebrows.

“Yes, but not like that,” you fluster. He was right though, the thought about how he sleeps and has sex does cross your mind. “It just seems like you don’t have a lot of things.”

“Everything you see is what I have,” he shrugs and water splashes over his shoulders. “I don’t need much.”

“What do you eat, then?” You tilt your head to the side, curious. Unknowing to you, you have just uncrossed your legs at the same time as asking this question.

Noah’s gaze darts from your face to in between your legs, which are at his eye level. He nearly chokes and you watch him try to control a cough. “Uhm, I eat a lot of different things. I just don’t have the need to cook anything.”

Shying away from whatever that reaction was, you move on to talk about what has been on your mind all day, “So, you said you would tell me about what’s going on here?” You tap on your chest with your pointer finger.

His eyes widen as if you’ve just given him permission to look at your breasts sitting nicely in your bikini top. Noah forces his primal thoughts away and blinks to refocus on your question. It’s important he tells you quickly or you won’t know what’s coming to you.

Noah caresses your skin around your thighs with his thumbs. Clearing his throat he begins to explain everything, “When I told you that if I kissed you that I wouldn't be able to let you go, I was being literal.” Noah’s eyes pass back and forth searching for any bit of negative reaction, but you give none. You just nod him on to continue. “Beings like me, when we reach a certain time in our life that we feel we need a companion, something within our DNA begins an instinctual ritual to find…,” he pauses again looking for your eyes to dart to the water wanting to leave or for you to fidget out of your seat, “a mate.” He wants to shut his eyes and disappear from your curious gaze, but luckily to him, a small smile paints itself on your face. “I think my time began a couple months ago— when I began to start feeling bored and burnt out with my normal life. My body and mind pushed me to find someone to make me feel belonging and excitement again, and I didn’t see anyone fitting my ideal mate— until I saw you on the sands of my cove.”

His head falls and you look down at him concernedly. He continues, “I need you to understand that being my mate would make you mine for life. I would be the one you must love; you wouldn’t have a choice.” You want to interrupt him, but all you do is lean and place a soothing hand on his cheek. Noah tilts his head toward your touch, “Right now, we have formed a tether from our kiss that binds our two hearts together.” Noah looks up at you finally, but your heart caves in on itself when you see his eyes, red and glossy. “The tether is permanent. Throughout our lifetimes, neither of us will ever forget where the other is as we’ll be able to feel each other’s presence, even across the world. However, Y/N, if you don’t want any more than that, I understand.”

Grabbing both sides of his face, you lean down to lock on his eyes with furrowed brows, “Noah, I would love nothing more than to spend the rest of my life with you.” The words seem crazy to you as you thought them over as he explained his culture, but hearing them come out of your mouth was a different story. You wanted to leave home and start anew; this is your chance to begin a life with someone that cared for all of you… Wanted you. “I think— I think your power over love is beautiful. Please know that I'm grateful for the gifts you’ve given me, including our tether. I want to be your mate.”

His hands come to the sides of your hips and his muscles flex when he pushes himself out of the water to meet his lips with yours. It’s a quick, soft, reassuring touch, nevertheless you feel your heart glow golden.

Back in the water, Noah uses his thumbs to rub away the redness and deep emotion in his eyes, but they still are slightly puffy. 

“I know I should believe you, but I need to ask if you’re sure? This isn’t a decision you can take back,” he reiterates.

“I’m sure,” you smile at him confidently. “So, do I marry you now? Say I do?” You chuckle under your breath and kick your feet in the water in front of him.

He laughs along with you and you notice the water behind him splashing. You imagine he’s kicking his tail in excitement, like a dog, at your answer. “We can get married and have a wedding,” he smiles up at you proudly, “If that is what you dream of. However, there’s a— different ritual that ningyo do in order to make a life mate relationship official.”

“What is it?” You tilt your head curiously.

Noah wants so badly to say the next word under his breath, but he has to be truthful to you, his soon to be mate. His wife. “Consummation,” he says assuredly.

Oh, okay! You think. You would’ve swam through a sunken ship to retrieve a ring or even fought a shark for him, but this ritual sounds much better. You never thought that you’d be mentally celebrating the opportunity to have sex with a merman, but it feels like fireworks are shooting off in your brain. 

Before you can react, he continues, “Y/N, since kissing you my body and mind have not been able to forget the way your skin feels on mine. I can’t get over the way you say my name. I just want— need you, primally. I’ve been acting strangely all day thinking about whether you would say yes to being my mate, and every time I imagined the words coming out of your mouth I— I needed to relieve myself,” he admits. A faint shade of pink blankets his cheeks. “So again, if you say no to this, I’ll under—,”

You interrupt him, “I want to have sex with you.” Very smooth. “I understand what I’m getting into and forever is okay with me. I want you.” The thought of Noah spilling into his fist several times today just because you kissed him makes your heart pound.

His eyes widen at your confidence. “I trust you, Y/N. I’ll make you mine,” he smiles proudly. “You should know that I’ve never had sex with a human before, though. All I know about female human anatomy is from what Nick has shown me in,” he catches your amused, hopeful expression, “— uhm, nevermind.”

You throw your head back and laugh, but realize he might feel insecure about his knowledge of your body, so you cover your mouth and chuckle to yourself silently. “Noah, have you watched human porn?” You whisper through your hand.

He scoffs and grabs underneath your thighs, tugging you to the edge of the pool. “Get over here,” his voice is assertive, but the warmth of his face hiding itself between your thighs tells you he feels otherwise.

“Mhm,” you hum teasingly. “What did you learn? I assume you watched it on something you borrowed from your friend?” You try to push him further. The sight of the big, strong ningyo crumbling between your legs fuels the aching fire in your core. 

“Put your legs over my shoulders and I’ll show you?” He asks while looking up at you with dark irises. His fingers come to the sides of your bikini bottoms and you lift yourself so he can pull them down off your legs. “I’m confident that I can please you in other ways, but I want to use my mouth— which is something I’ve never done before. Let me know if I’m making you feel good?” 

You nod and bite your lip while spreading your thighs and hooking your calves over each of his freckled shoulders. You didn’t expect to feel shy spreading yourself open for him, but Noah’s eyes are studying your form and his fingers are caressing your folds curiously.

The soft touch of his fingerpads explores the area around your entrance makes you shutter. Noah’s thumb finds your clit and begins kneading your bud intently. “Right there,” you praise him urging him on. One of his digits gathers your arousal from your entrance before pressing into you slowly. Little by little, you take on the length of his forefinger as he stretches you out for him while his thumbs continue circling your clit. “Noah, can I have more?”

“Of course,” he agrees adding his middle finger into you. He pumps into you purposefully; he curls his fingers upward and listens for the sweet sounds to come from you that help him make sure he’s hitting the spots you like best. Noah takes your chin in his empty hand and gives you a look of permission to move his mouth to where he wants it most. 

“Just don’t stop what you’re doing okay?” You nod and nibble your lip. Bringing your hands to your breasts, kneading and pinching your nipples over your bikini top, you’re eager to get off on his fingers. “Feels so good.”

Noah takes a second to ogle you, pleasing yourself, but since you’ve allowed him to duck his head between your thighs he’s there right afterward. He removes his thumb from your clit and replaces it with the suck of his lips. Like he’s been starving himself all day, his mouth and tongue move hungrily against your clit while he thrusts his fingers into your cunt in a focused rhythm. The sound of his lapping and the squelch of you on his fingers reverberates against the walls of the empty cave.

“Noah,” your hands reach for his hair and interlace with his dark, damp strands. “Fuck, you’re doing so well, baby.”

He groans between your legs and squeezes the outside of your thigh around his head with his empty hand.

When Noah described his primal urges, you had not understood the gravity of which it affects him. He needs this. He needs you. You believe that getting you off is an instinctual goal driving him to devour you with vigor. Squeezing your breast harshly, you anticipate how he’ll behave once he gets to thrust into you with his dick.

“I’m so close, Noah,” you choke out, “but I want to cum with you. Let me cum on your cock.” You plead to him, but he continues on with his movements; your announcement almost encourages him to continue moving his tongue and fingers in tandem. “Noah, please, I’m gonna— fuck, you’re so good at this.”

“Mmm,” he hums on your clit before pulling away. “Cum on my fingers. I’ll make you cum on my cocks, too, I promise,” he claims before returning to your clit encouraging your orgasm.

Before, your eyes sat half lidded as he fucks you up to his knuckles, but now they’re wide open. Cocks? Like, with an “s”?

“Shit,” the thought of your pussy stretched around all of him makes you come undone. Gripping the back of his head, you pull him in and hump his mouth eagerly.

“Good girl, use me,” he praises you against your skin. He allows you to squirm on his hand as you ride out your high. Your chest heaves under your hand as you lie back against the stone behind you. “Ready to come down?” Noah asks while pressing nurturing kisses along the insides of your thighs down to your knees. He softly unhooks your legs from his shoulders and places them over the ledge.

“Mhm,” is what you can muster as a response as you sit up slowly. While your brain is dazed, you still yearn to give all of yourself to him. Putting on a show for your soon-to-be mate, you undo the tie of your bikini top and drop each strap to the sides sensually. The top falls to your lap and you throw it over your shoulder into the slate cave wall. 

“H— Hold onto me,” Noah says distractedly. You take his shoulders under your palms and brace yourself for him to lift you off the stone ledge back into the pool. 

You expect to hiss at the cool temperature change, however, the heat of your arousal warms you and there’s no need to adjust to the Okinawan waters. Your skin, between your legs, your hands… Everywhere is hot with need for him. 

Holding onto Noah’s shoulder for support, you brush his damp hair back with your fingers. He melts into your touch and almost purrs with pleasure. Taking his chin between your fingers, you praise him again seeing how he wanes to your words. While being a powerful, fantastical being, he’s also reminded you how he is all yours. “Thank you for trying something new for me,” you tell him before pressing a passionate kiss to his lips.

He returns your kiss and wraps his arms around your torso snugly, pulling you into his. “You get to have everything you want,” he pulls away to kiss along your collarbone and up your neck, “now that you’re with me.”

As he kisses your neck, you feel the firm press of his pelvis against your upper thigh. You look down, but can’t see much through the obscured water, just the reflection of the moon through the ceiling and candlelight.

“Can I touch you?” You ask hesitantly while trailing your fingers along the velvety scales on his hip.

Noah takes your hand in his from his hip and guides into to about where a human man’s groin would be. His breath hitches as he helps wrap your smaller fingers around one of his members. “I know humans only have one. I don’t expect you to…” Noah pauses questioning his vocabulary, “Use both of them tonight.”

Excitedly and inquisitively, you explore his parts while watching his face twist and eyes roll back into his skull. Just from feeling, his cocks are stacked on top each other, vertically, with the lower one being larger than the human average size while the upper one is about one inch shorter. They seem to be prehensile having the ability to move freely in your palm, seeking your warmth. Twisting your hand up and down larger shaft, he’s wider at the base than the tip and much smoother than a human, besides the shallow, chevron ridges that line the bottom of the shafts. He feels so slick in your hand… His water-resistant precum coated himself as he went down on you.

He must have really enjoyed himself, you think. 

As you rub your thumb over his larger tip, you realize you’ve distracted yourself from the merman attached to it. He hisses under your touch before wrapping his arms underneath your ass and hoisting you up to wrap your legs around his hips.

“I need to be inside of you, so badly, it hurts,” he proclaims. “No more teasing.”

“I’m giving myself to you,” you whisper. “Please fuck me.” 

Noah bites his lip focusing on moving slowly regardless of his impulsions to buck up into you with force. With his large hands supporting you, he guides you down on his larger member. You feel it prod against your entrance moving itself up and down your slit.

“Fuck—”

“—yes,”

You two moan together as your pussy stretches around his cock while he lowers you. As he bottoms out on his flared base, you feel his other, smaller phallus rubs lazy figure-eights on your aching clit.

“That feels perfect,” you compliment. “Keep going.”

He leans in to attach his lips to yours and starts to bounce you on his cock. The saltwater moves around you in soft waves in response to your movements. With your hands wrapped around the back of his neck, he pulls you into his hips.

Noah continues to thrusts into you rhythmically while the sounds of your combined moans fill the empty cavern. “Look at you,” he smiles, his pearl tooth twinkling at your sultrily. “How do you feel?”

“So good,” you mumble as your eyes roll back. You wanted to say how you’ve never experienced sex like this before, but you’re head is so foggy you can’t get the words out. The way you feel is euphoric. You mentally wonder if there’s some magical element to his precum to make you feel like every thrust feels better than the last, but maybe you’re stereotyping him now. No way that could be the case, right? You think.

Setting you to bottom out on his cock, he stills his hands to start thrusting his hips normally. Every sensation he brings to your body drags you closer and closer to your end. The circling of his phallus on your clit, the needy humping of his hips into yours, and his soft lips on your neck and shoulders all exhilarate you at once.

“I’m gonna cum again,” you cry out in a whine. Your forehead meets his and you shut your eyes to focus on his touch. Your pussy pulses around his dick to take him for all he’s worth as you reach your climax.

“Fuck, me too,” Noah announces before shutting his eyes and groaning through his orgasm. You feel his cum glaze your walls and it feels different than you would expect… thick, cooling, and sticky.

You hold Noah close and come down from your second orgasm with him. He matches his breathing with yours. Looking between the both of your chests, a soft golden light shines for the first time through your skin before it dissipates to nothing.

Noah looks up from your chest with a grin. “You’re mine now. I— I love you already,” he proclaims with a kiss to your forehead.

“I love you, too,” you reply. Usually you would feel crazy for saying such words less than a week of knowing someone, but right now it feels so right. Resting your head on his shoulder, exhausted, Noah holds you close to his body. “Can I stay here for a while before we swim back up?”

“Of course, my love,” he nods and rubs soothing circles on your shoulder blades. “If you need to take a nap or anything… It’s okay. You can even pick out a book from my library, so I can read to you.” Even without looking up, you can feel the beam of his smile shining next to you.

—

NOAH’S POV

Y/N spent the majority of the night with me that night as we enjoyed having completed our mating ritual; I read to her as she rested on the edge of the pool and we chatted about our future together. 

She left the next morning needing to catch her flight to return home and she’s been away from me for two months. I can still feel all of her, though. I know exactly where she is, and my chest feels like it glowing when she happens to look in my direction.

Even with her gone, the past couple months I haven't spent alone, not just because of our tether, but because I’ve reconnected with my friends and with my love of music. I’ve been singing every day and writing new songs… Some of which are about her.

Besides music, only one other goal has been driving me to wake up every morning: finding a way that I can have my family, Nicholas and Y/N, to be here in the ocean with me whenever they like.

Following the rumors and pursuing every lead, I think I’ve finally found the magic I need and I can’t wait until she’s back in Japan for me to show her.

[the-lives-i-am-not-living]

Good night

Wolverine x reader

Summary: you’re sick. What's especially bad this time is that your throat is filled with mucus (lovely), which makes sleeping a nightmare. Feeling especially bad one night, there's only one person you want to go to.

Warnings: none - this is just pure fluff!

Note: hi y'all, this is my first time ever posting something here, so I hope you like it! Inspiration hit me today! (and the gasping actually happened to me recently ._.) Hope you enjoy!

You jolt up in the middle of the night, gasping for air. But the air doesn’t come. For a few seconds, you try and see if the tightness in your throat subsides on its own, but the only thing you’re able to do is heave. 

Panic sets in - you’re convinced you’re going to die if you don’t get help. You get out of bed and head into the hallway. One, two, three, four… When you get to the fifth door, you softly open it. Unable to speak, you pray that Logan is still a light sleeper.

You peer into the darkness of his room, suddenly unsure whether to approach him, but then you’re blinded when his bedside light turns on. Logan looks at you with narrowed eyes, adjusting to the brightness. His expression immediately grows concerned when he processes what’s happening. 

Still gasping, you drop to your knees at his bedside, trying to get your breathing under control. Besides the obvious fear of dying, you mostly feel bad for waking him up.

Logan hurriedly slides out of bed and joins you on the floor. “Look at me, hun,” he says, and places a hand on your lower back. You move to sit sideways, facing Logan. When your panicked eyes meet his, you’re struck with the intensity of them. He has never looked at you like that before. The initial feeling of being scrutinized ebbs away and turns into something warmer.  

“Keep breathing. You’ve got this. It doesn’t feel like you can breathe, but you’re doing it,” he says. His voice is surprisingly clear for someone who just woke up.

You give him a few small nods. The gasping doesn’t subside for another whole minute. All the while, the two of you are locked onto each other.

Then, finally, your heart starts beating less erratically, and your breathing becomes less labored.

You close your eyes and let out a shaky breath of relief. You lean your head against the bed. “I’m so sorry,” you say with a tiny voice. 

You hear a strangled sound from Logan. “Why the hell are you sorry?”  

When you open your eyes, his incredulous expression is front and center. “I thought I was choking. I didn’t want to scare you, but -" You pause to catch your breath. "But the only thing I could think of was to go to you.”

His features turn soft at those last few words. “I’m glad you came to me.”

“Thank you for helping," you croak. "Oh my god, I sound even more like a chain smoking little kid now.” Logan chuckles and gives you a pat on the knee. “Very welcome. And yes, you do.”

“I hate being sick.”

With an old man groan, he rises to his feet. “Stay put. I’ll get you a glass of water. And I’ll see if I can find some medicine for your throat.”

“Thank you,” you breathe.

When he gets back with a glass of water, you haven’t moved an inch. 

“Sorry, couldn’t find any medicine,” he says while handing you your water. “But let’s get you looked at first thing in the morning.”

“I’m a bit scared to go back to sleep,” you admit. Logan watches you take a few sips of water. “Do you want to talk until you fall asleep?”

You look up at him, slightly surprised. When he doesn’t meet your eyes immediately, you can’t help but smile. “That would be nice.”

“Alright, let’s get you back to your room. I have some stories that are guaranteed to bore you out of your mind.” “I can’t wait!” you say in an excited whisper. “Having your voice lull me to sleep sounds like heaven.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you wish you could take them back.

“Oh, does it?” Logan’s voice drips with self-satisfaction. You don’t dare look at him. 

Instead, you cough. But this sadly sets off a coughing fit, and by the end of it tears are streaming down your face.

“Goddammit,” you wheeze.

From the corner of your eye, you see Logan holding out his hand. “Good sir, I have respiratory issues,” you say as you swat at him. “I can still walk!” 

“Okay, excuse me,” he says, holding up his hands in mock offense. “Good to see your near-death experience didn’t mess with your sense of humor.”

Once you’re settled back in your bed with extra pillows and blankets to help you sleep in a more upright position, Logan takes a chair and sits across from you. It takes you a while to shake the giddiness of having Logan in your room, telling you a bedtime story. Hearing him use a different kind of voice. But as expected, around ten minutes into his story, sleep takes you.

You don’t see Logan’s expression as he watches you drift off. 

After a while, he quietly gets up from the chair and leans over towards you. As softly as he can, he strokes your hair.

“Good night.”

[totaly-obsessed]

hiii! i love ur work so much!!!! i was wondering if i can request a kcc fic where she gets jealous hehehehehehe

Favorites

Kyra Cooney-Cross x reader request

-> Kyra finds out that she is not the favorite aunt or girlfriend

-> Hope you like it Anon, even though you probably meant a different jealousy haha

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

The national break was always a welcome break from the daily club life, even if the World Cup was not that long ago. You had arrived together with the other Matilda’s that played in England. The plane journey was a long one, but one most of you were accustomed to by now.

Your plan for it? Sleeping. As much as you could. Trainers and mostly everybody you knew tried to tell you that it was bad, but you didn’t really listen – the want to sleep much too big.

Sam, your club teammate sat next to you, anxiously chewing her nails for most of the trip as she was one of the worst fliers you knew. Your captain was always thankful to sit next to you, as you calmed her down with your deep sleep and not a care in the world.

The two seats across from you were occupied by Mary and Kyra who were playing cards, bored out of their minds. Eventually, it was the new Arsenal signing who kicked your feet to wake you. “Huh? Are we there yet?” The two started laughing at your startled face and at how fast you had sat up in your seat. “No, still a while out. You’re playing cards with us.”

It wasn’t a question, Kyra knew that you would just roll your eyes and close them again, desperate for sleep. But she also knew that even you couldn’t resist her puppy eyes, so she batted her lashes at you, knowing that you would cave in.

The two of you had been dating for over a year now. Her joining Arsenal had been the best thing ever – you finally moved in together, which was quite hard with the midfielder playing in Sweden before. Even with the both of you on rival London teams, it was the best thing ever.

When in public Kyra might seem like the excited, touchy one when in private it was you who would simply refuse to let the brunette go, cuddling as close to her as you could. So whipped as you are, you played cards with them and even managed to get Sam to play as well.

“Man, I can’t wait to see Harps again. She grows so quickly.” This has been Kyra’s first time being away for such a long time from the toddler since meeting her. The two-year-old quickly found her way into all the Matilda’s hearts, helping the team relax after a long day, her gleeful giggles sounding through the halls of the facility. “Me neither, maybe she finally decides to be a striker.” Sam was back to consciousness, always happy to talk about the youngest team member – also distracting herself from flying. None of you could help but laugh, knowing that if little Harper decided to be a footballer one day, she would follow in her mother’s footsteps and become a midfielder.

The rest of the journey was long and hard, you were just happy to have Kyra at your side, knowing that you didn’t need to talk, the brunette filling the silence all by herself.

When the group of you arrived at the team hotel it was already late in the day but most of the Tillies that roamed the halls were excited to see each other again after a very successful World Cup. “Auntie Y/N!” A small body made its way through the sea of players, crashing into your open arms as you couched down, ready to hug her. “Harps!” Giggles filled the room as you threw her up in the air and caught her again.

You could feel Katrina’s watchful eyes on you but the short midfielder was never worried when Harper was with you. With Charlie and Kyra? Panic. But once you joined them? Everything was alright. It wasn’t like you were more mature, but the way you carried yourself; serious and careful when needed but you also knew how to have fun – the perfect combination.

“Harper look, Kyra’s here too!” Your girlfriend tried to get the girl's attention but she was much too busy playing with your hair, telling you the story of how her favorite stuffy had found its way to Australia. “Babe, I’ll go make out with Charls, yeah?” When you didn’t even react, the midfielder scoffed offended.

She just got replaced by a two-year-old.

Kyra didn’t know who she envied more. You for being Harper's favorite auntie, or Harper for having all your attention when in the same room.

Once back on the ground, the toddler grabbed your hand, swiftly pulling you out to a field, commanding you to grab a ball. The rest of the Matildas watched in awe as their very stoic teammate turned to mush once the tiny blonde shouted “Again!” signaling you to roll the ball to her so that she could kick it back.

“My girlfriend just got stolen.” The young Arsenal player’s mouth was wide open as Harper took you from her, in broad daylight. Harper kept pulling you out on the field further and further until you couldn’t hear the teasing anymore – not that you paid it any mind.

“Kyra just got replaced!” It was Mackenzie who started joking at their young teammate's expanse. “I still have an open room, should harper take your bed as well!” But it was Caitlin who caused the brunette to whine in defeat.

Katrina knew that you were up to no good when she saw you crouched on the floor, telling Harper something while pointing at the rest of the Matilda’s at the side of the pitch – a devious smile on your face.

Just a few short moments her daughter ran towards them, as fast as she could, arms wide open an excited smile on her face. “Auntie!” Kyra had now crouched down as well, copying your previous action, opening her arms as the small blonde raced directly toward her.

“C’mere Harps!” But Harper had a different plan, throwing herself on the ground as she army-crawled through the midfielder's legs – jumping into Alanna’s strong arms, who stood directly behind Kyra. The crowd erupted in laughter, as you made your way back to them, a sly smirk still on your lips, seeing your girlfriend's very prominent pout as Sam patted her back. “Not the favorite girlfriend, not the favorite aunt – Man, that’s gotta hurt."

[slaybestieslay946]

Luke Castellan and Persephone!Child (I know she doesn’t canonically have Demi-god kids but I feel like it fits well) with a story similar to Eurydice and Orpheus’s sad tale.

thank you so much for your request, it acc ties in really well to a fic idea ive had for a while, so i was so excited to see this in my inbox!!

Circle

MASTERLIST

word count: 1800

pairing: luke castellan x persephone!reader

warnings: death, minor depictions of violence, angst

a/n: partly inspired by the request, partly by mitski's song 'circle' honestly i think it made this extra gut-wrenching. hope you all enjoy!

'Nobody knows my lover, is buried underground.'

When Luke Castellan received his quest, everyone knew who he would pick to take with him. 

Immediately, he turned to you, flashing you a bright grin, and beckoning you towards him. You laughed, wading through the crowd to your lover, smiling brightly all the way. 

The rest of camp half blood rolled their eyes fondly at the pair of you, and just how disgustingly in love you were. 

It had been like this ever since you arrived at camp half blood, mere months after Luke himself. 

You’d been escorted to the Hermes cabin by one of the older campers, and sat down on a bunk bed. You had looked around the place, lost, confused, and homesick. 

And then a boy stepped up to you, asking how you were, what your name was. And gods, even at the age of 14, you knew he was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen. Luke thought the same about you. 

He was so drawn to you, he couldn’t stay away. 

Now, even 4 years later, nothing had changed. 

He was openly enraptured by you, just as Hades was with your mother. He was never seen without you by his side, so of course he’d pick you to bring on his first quest.

A few days later, you set off, Luke’s half-brother, Chris Rodriguez in tow. Everything started off well, you’d managed to locate someone to tell you where the Garden of Hesperides was, in order to retrieve the golden apple that you had been sent for. 

On the way there, you hardly encountered any monsters. You lived comfortably, even if you slept in motels every night, and dined on gas station food. 

It all went downhill when you finally reached the garden. 

You and Chris stood guard whilst Luke stepped towards the tree, no sword in his hand. You kept your spear gripped tightly in your hand, should he awake the dragon sleeping at his feet. 

He eventually reached the foot of the tree, taking a deep breath before reaching up into the branches, and trying to snag one of the apples. Meanwhile, you didn’t take your eyes off the dragon, watching it for any sign of movement. 

And when it finally opened its dark eye, looking up at Luke, you ran forward, sprinting towards it with your spear outstretched to stab it. 

But you weren’t fast enough, and it turned, slashing a talon across your chest, and sending you collapsing onto the ground, blood soaking into your shirt. 

Luke darted towards you and in his rush, he wasn’t able to avoid the sharp tail of the dragon whipping across his face, leaving a fine cut all the way down it. 

He ignored the biting pain, barely able to register it when all he could see was you, lying on the floor, a pool of blood encircling you. 

“Hey, Y/N.” He whispered, patting your cheek gently, cradling your body to his chest, “You’re gonna be alright, yeah? Just open your eyes for me baby.” 

You struggled to do as he asked, looking up at your lover with confused eyes. 

“You-” You coughed, “You have to go. It’s over for me. Gonna go see mom.”

“No, no. Gotta stay with me. We can get through this.” He cried, brushing his thumbs across your face.

“I- I- I love y-you. W-we’ll s-see each other ag-gain.” You did your best to smile, and while all you wanted to do was reach up and hold his face, you found you didn’t have the strength to do so. 

He continued to cry and beg you to come back, but it was all for nothing, you’d gone silent, and your eyes were all still. 

And then vines began to wrap around your body, pulling you into the earth, down towards Persephone, your mother. 

Luke kept crying as they took you away from him, leaving nothing but your camp necklace behind. 

“Hey, man, we gotta go.” He heard Chris call, and he whipped his head around to berate him, until he saw his half-brother was currently in combat with the dragon that had killed you. 

He was right, they had to go. 

He scooped your camp necklace off of the ground, and ran towards his brother, who detached from his fight with the dragon to run away from the garden. Luke followed after him, tears streaming down his face the whole way. 

*

When Luke got back to camp, he was different. Numb. 

Annabeth ran up to him when they descended the hill, a bright smile on her face at her older brother's return. It faded slightly when she saw you weren’t right beside him. 

“Where’s Y/N?” She asked, looking around as if you’d pop out from nowhere.

“Gone.” Was all Luke could manage to say, pulling his little sister in for a hug he so desperately needed, confirmation that at least she was still here. 

For the next few months, he barely left the Hermes cabin, only ever going down to the amphitheatre in the early hours of the morning, where he could be seen slashing recklessly at wooden dummies left right and centre. 

He didn’t know how to live without you. He always thought you’d be with him forever. He had this vision that together you would grow old, and would die while sitting on some front porch, holding hands as you went at the same moment. 

Now he realised that it was a pipedream. You were demigods, it was never going to work out like that. 

But he couldn’t go on living like this. He didn’t want to wake up in the morning if you weren’t beside him. So he formed his plan, to go down to the underworld and retrieve you himself. 

His father was the god of travellers, and your mother was the queen of the underworld. It could work. 

So he travelled to the entrance to the underworld, your camp necklace in his hands, and prayed. First to your mother, asking for an audience, and second to his father, asking for use of his access to the underworld. It was the first time he had ever asked Hermes for anything, and if this worked, it would probably be the last. He’d never want for anything again if it meant you were with him again. 

And it did work. The gate opened to him, a long staircase down into the darkness. Luke descended quickly; he didn’t want to keep Persephone, or you for that matter, waiting.

He soon found himself pushing through crowds of lost souls, keeping a look out for you, but you were nowhere in sight. He then turned his attention back to reaching Persephone’s throne, breathing a sigh of relief as he finally found himself at the foot of it, looking up at the goddess herself. 

“You requested an audience with me, Mr Castellan. I hope this is not about my daughter.” Persephone said sternly, looking down at the demigod, her fears confirmed when she saw the string of beads clutched in his hands. 

“It is, but-”

“There’s no buts. I can’t do anything about your predicament. It is not within my jurisdiction.” She declared, her voice growing regretful, “My daughter is in Elysium, and that’s where she must stay.” 

“My lady, I understand that this is difficult for you. But we both know Y/N… died before her time. She would want to come back. She deserves to have a life.” 

“And you would give that to her?” 

“Yes.” 

“And you would protect her, better than I can?”

Luke gulped, “Just as well.” 

The goddess sighed, and muttered, almost to herself, “We have had this problem before, persuasive mortals and their tales of love. Let’s see if you can fare any better, Luke Castellan.” 

“I will release my only daughter from the underworld, on one condition. As you lead her back into the world of the living, you mustn’t look back at her. She will be following you, trust me on that, demigod.” 

“And if I do? Look back?” 

“Then you will never see her again. Not in your world, nor mine,” She looked down at him once again, a sad look in her eyes, “Now go, exit through the fields of asphodel, she will follow you from there.” 

Luke nodded firmly, and turned back around, returning the way he came, smiling more brightly than he had in months. 

He was going to see his Y/N again, all he had to do was not look back at her, how difficult could that be?

He pushed his way back through the fields of asphodel, keeping a tight hold of her camp beads. As soon as they reached the surface, he would string them around her neck again. He’d be able to hold her face in his palms, to kiss her, to hug her. Everything would be alright again. 

As he returned to the staircase, he felt a rush of wind behind him. It had to be her. Then, to confirm his suspicions, he heard soft footsteps on the stone staircase. Luke smiled to himself once again, wishing so desperately that he could greet her, but not wanting to break Persephone’s rules. 

He continued up the staircase for what felt like hours, it was definitely taking him a lot longer this time. The thing that kept him going was your footsteps behind him, a reminder that you were still there, following after him. 

Until they stopped, right as he became able to see the light coming from the living world above him. 

He paused for a moment, listening out for you. But he couldn’t hear anything besides his panting breaths and the odd screech of a harpy. 

Luke began to grow worried, a pit forming in his stomach, but he kept climbing the stairs. Persephone told him you’d be following, she wouldn’t lie, would she?

Or maybe it was all some elaborate joke. Fortune hadn’t been on his side recently. 

Maybe he should check. Just a peek, it couldn’t hurt, could it? What was so wrong about him looking back anyway, why shouldn’t he want to see his lover, the girl he would do anything for?

So he did. He turned, to look over his shoulder. 

And of course, you were right behind him, just like your mother said you would. 

At first you looked joyful to see him, and then your face fell in horror as you realised what he had done. You reached out to touch him, to hold on, but you couldn’t quite reach. And then you felt yourself being pulled back, away from him. 

Luke watched on in horror as you fell back into the abyss.

[ssinboo]

It's Always been Us

summary: After your unplanned confession, you avoid Seungkwan until an unexpected issue brings you to contact him. When you finally get in touch, secrets are revealed.

Part 3 of As it Was

pairing: Middle School Teacher! Reader x Entertainer!Seungkwan

word count: 16.5k (1h~ read)

warnings: miscommunication, mentions of past trouble, unprotected sex, background character cheating, creampie, body worship, dry humping, minor mentions of exhibitionism, so many spicy scenes.

A/N: AND IT'S OVER!!!! thank you so much, everyone!

“This is Boo Seungkwan, I’m not available right now, leave a message after the beep.”

Beep.

“Hey— Uh, I know we haven’t spoken in a while but— Can you please call me back?”

Beep.

“Seungkwan. Look. I— I know I suck, but can you, please, just call me back?”

Beep.

“Hey, It’s me again… I haven’t heard anything from you… Is everything OK? Please, call me.”

Beep.

“Look— I know it was wrong of me to give you the cold shoulder, but this is serious, I mean it— You need to call me back.

Beep.

“I’m sorry— Look, I— Can you please, just call me? I really need to talk to you.”

Fresh-faced and well-groomed, Seungkwan exhales wealth as he trudges through the crowded streets he grew up in. A far-cry from his fresh-faced youth, he attracts curious look standing in an expensive, tailored suit draped over his slender figure, with matching accessories and a trusty pair of branded sunglasses.

Usually, he’d stop at his mum’s, bother his sisters and nephews for a bit, deliver gifts and stories of his big-city living. But today, your house is the first stop in his itinerary and, if everything goes right, it might just be the last for today.

Knocking on the door, he adjusts himself, fixing his blazer and hair. His heart pounds incessantly against his ribs and his clammy palms are wiped against his trousers in the hopes of lessening nervousness. In his breast pocket, there is a small velvet box that lays heavier than its real weight ever could.

The door swings open, prompting him to put on his nicest smile, only to be met with his second sister’s unsightly frown, she assesses his posture.

“Ah, you’re here,” She announces in a flat voice, no excitement whatsover. Usually, he would make hell over anything, but today, he has pressing matters at hand. He had mentioned in passing he would be flying home soon, but his sister’s presence in your home still remained unexplained — not that he cared, right now.

“Is— Is she here?” Gesturing inside, Seungkwan stumbles over his words. His sister nods and steps aside, allowing him to finally cross the threshold of your place, somewhere in the other room, he can hear your soft footsteps and clumsy banging of pots and pans; his heart races faster.

“Why are you here?” He finally asks,

Unbothered, she replies with a deep sigh, “So she wouldn’t run away before you got here.”

“Who’s at the door?”

It’s your voice he hears, always sweeter than he remembered. The moment it touches his ears, his throat closes up like it never has before. He stretches his neck and inhales all the courage he muster up.

“Someone you hate,” His sister jokes, immediately reaching for her bag and keys.

“What?” He can hear you question, pitter-patter of bare feet closer and closer. He almost turns around to stop his sister from leaving, suddenly overwhelmed with his nerves.

That is until he sees you.

“Seungkwan?” It comes out as a whisper, you doubt your own eyes but the name flows naturally past your tongue.

Seungkwan freezes in place, the bouquet in his hand — your favourite flowers, — slip from his grasp and meet an undeserving fate on the ground.

Had it been anyone else, the bump protruding against your loose tee would’ve remained unseen; uncared for. But Seungkwan knew your body inside and out, he knew every nook and cranny, every beauty spot and scar. Countless nights were spent ravishing your very essence over and over, learning and teaching you about yourself.

Okay, maybe you had gained a little weight, he wasn’t one to judge, not when you looked absolutely stunning — Though he did seem biased. But you cradled that bump with so much care, it couldn’t be anything else.

Eyes widened in sheer terror, you immediately remove your hands from your stomach, sending them flying behind your back in shame. But it’s too late.

He knows the truth.

“I’ll leave you two to it,” His sister announces much to your disdain. Before you can protest, she just grabs her things and leaves.

There’s silence.

Unnerving, immovable, silence that wraps its cold tendrils around your throat, squeezing tighter and tighter with every passing second.

Looking at his face resurfaces plenty emotions; rage, relief, hatred, confusion, but there is so much love still; you realise, that despite it all, there is still love. Seems you are really cursed to love him.

Seungkwan is similarly shell shocked, though for different reasons. Beautiful hands hanging by his side, those gorgeous lips you love so much are agape as he stares at you: betrayed.

“Are you…?”

The question trails off and it hangs awkwardly in the couple feet between you, every syllable stumbling to the ground. He doesn’t need to finish it, you both know what he’s talking about.

You nod.

“Is it—“ He gulps, swallowing down the excruciating thought that perhaps you had found someone else. “Is it mine?”

Offended, you scoff, holding back the rage that sits at your tongue. You nod.

You were pregnant with his child.

He almost lets out a sigh of relief, releasing a breath he never realised was held. And then his eyes glaze over with unshed tears: hurt.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” It’s a broken up whisper, cradled in pain and betrayal and it disappears in the air, small and so, so tender.

For a split second, you feel guilty. Looking at his glossy eyes that shine so beautifully, you’re overcome with an overwhelming urge to comfort him. But you are met with the rest of your unaddressed emotions. The ungodly amount of rage you have been shoving down every time you think about him.

“Didn’t tell you?!” Your voice trembles as you raise your tone, finally pouring out everything, “Seungkwan, I fucking called you for a month— I messaged you, I called you— I did everything!” You take a step forward, fingers tightly woven into a fist, fingernails painfully digging into your palms, “You didn’t call me back. You never did! You threw me away.”

Your words are painful. Not to you as much as it is to him. You feel some relief, finally getting closure.

But Seungkwan is floored, every words hanging heavy on the pit of his stomach, coercing acid but never allowing themselves to be fully digested; no. They hang around past their welcome, scratching at his insides until they are a bright shade of inflamed red.

You think he threw you away. How could you think that? After you left just like that and never called ba— Oh.

It’s only then, realisation settles like a bucket of ice cold water poured over your back. Seungkwan runs his fingers over his face with a quiet whisper of “Shit…”

“Yeah. Shit.” You cross your arms over your chest, in the hopes of hiding your shaking hands.

“No— Look—, Do you remember my PR manager?”

Still somewhat angry, you side-eye him, “Yeah, she fucking hates me.”

“Turns out she hated me, too,” He says, taking a step to close the distance between you, “It’s a long story— I fired her and she retaliated, got rid of my phone, laptop, locked me out of my social media accounts, I just got access to my accounts this week, but my phone is gone.”

Your eyes soften with the soft threading of hope. You want to believe him, to know it wasn’t on purpose, to know you hadn’t been abandoned. A part of your wants to grasp at any explanation, just take it without questioning. Anything is better than being thrown aside.

But you have grown to realise over the years that although the pain is unbearable, tomorrow still comes.

You were owed an explanation. A true, believable reason for everything you went through after all the missed calls and radio-silence.

For once, you needed him to be there.

A year ago, you would’ve been content with your situationship, but now you’ve got someone else to care for. A little someone that will need stability.

“I begged you to call me. You never did.” Your voice is so broken by the pain, he wants to pick up the pieces and softly put them back together. There’s an emotion that hurts him more than your pain: Acceptance.

You would be okay with his absence.

Oh, he wouldn’t manage. The very thought of it drove him insane.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’ll do anything,” He brings his hands together, eyebrows furrowed together.

You just look at him, unsure how to proceed. How to process all the emotions that hadn’t even been acknowledged until a minute ago.

With a heavy sigh, you close your eyes. “Have you eaten?”

Seungkwan smiles, beautiful eyes bathed in hope, in adoration, “I haven’t.”

“I’ll fix you up something.”

It’s weird, sitting in your kitchen, awkwardly fidgeting with his suit while you bang pots and pans, heating up leftovers from lunch. His plan has gone to absolute shit and he’d just found out somewhat accidentally about his own future.

Seungkwan stands up in search of cutlery to set the table with, something to do with himself. He smiles at the fact that everything remains in the same place since last time he’d been here.

You turn off the knobs on your stove and turn around to find a silicone mat lest you burn your table; it was good, solid, oak and you took great care of it. Your cooking smells good, it always does.

You’re the first to sit down, a heavy sigh leaving your lips. He follows shortly after, making no ceremony of filling up his plate.

“When did you lose your phone?” You break the silence, chewing on your lower lip; Your eyes refuse to meet his.

Half-bite, he answers, “I think like a month after we saw each other?”

“Why didn’t you contact me before today?” Your voice cracks, you wish it hadn’t. You wish you had composure when standing before the man you love.

Seungkwan sighs, putting down his plate, debating on telling you the truth or white lies. The reason he avoided contact was simple; he wanted to be better, to be fully better, before seeing you again. No messes for you to clean, he wanted to be someone worthy.

“I— I wasn’t sure…” It’s a half-truth.

“Sure of what?” You finally look at him, trembling hands clasped together over your lap.

He dodges any eye contact, pulling at his eggs with the chopsticks. Seeing your expression would be enough to destroy any courage left, “What could I have said?” It’s the truth.

“Anything!” You raise your voice, slamming your hands against the table, which you immediately regret once the pain travels over your aching palms.

It’s enough to get a reaction out of him. His brows furrow, and with a scoff, he lets his chopsticks fall onto his plate, “What?! After you left like that? You didn’t even say goodbye— You just—“ He stops himself, gulping down any resentment.

You’re caught.

The subject you evaded like the devil from the cross comes back to bite.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” You look away, chest heaving under your nerves.

Seungkwan softens his voice, trying a different approach, “We have to talk about it.”

“I don’t want to!” He can see how much you’re shaking, clasping your hands together in the hopes he won’t notice. So he leaves the subject alone, despite its persistence on eating him up from the inside.

Suddenly taken by hunger, you huff, grabbing a bowl and stuffing your face.

Against his better judgement, he smiles, watching your cheeks round around your mouthful of food.

“What?” You ask accusingly.

“Nothing,” Seungkwan shakes his head with a soft smile plastered over his pretty lips. He clears his throat before asking. “When did you find out about it?”

It’s first time either of you acknowledge the situation since earlier.

“A month ago.”

He sighs. Trying his best to imagine how desperate and utterly abandoned you must’ve felt.

“Do you know what is it?”

You shrug, shaking your head

“Do you—“ He tries his best to gather words that will communicate his thoughts, “Do you want it?”

Your neck snaps toward him, cheeks round with food as you glare. “Stop saying ‘it’.”

“Sorry—“ He corrects himself, “Do you want the baby?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

It’s weird how relieved he feels, if anyone had asked him a week ago how he felt about becoming a father he’d say no. But it’s a tempting scenario. A luring future of white picket fence and a couple of kids who looked like you.

But terrifying all at the same time.

You chew on your lip, playing with the tablecloth, “Do— Do you?”

Seungkwan looks up from his plate, surprised.

Your eyes are so intent on him, his every expression. You hadn’t held much hope since the unanswered calls, but this sudden visit, the fact that for once, he is here. It toys with your emotions, dangles your every dream in front your very eyes.

“It’s your choice…” He whispers.

Not satisfied, you press further. “Do you want to be a father?”

It’s a slap to the face, a forceful acknowledgement of the situation and his own feelings toward it. Did he actually want this?

It was a known fact that more often than not, denying fatherhood came easy for men; Say you don’t want to be a part of it, sign away your rights and fuck off to live your life unbothered.

Despite the choice being there, Seungkwan couldn’t fathom even considering leaving everything behind. A whole life created between the two of you with the perfect mix of your features. The word ‘Fatherhood’ felt too heavy on his tongue.

“…Yes.” Seungkwan answers, surprising not only you but himself, as well. “Yes, I want to be a father and— I want to be a part of the baby’s life… Will you let me?”

But he wanted it all. Sleepless nights, stinky diapers, colic, teething. He wanted to be a part of this child’s life.

He anxiously awaits your response to his confession, watches how your eyes widen, glossy with the imminent threat of stubborn tears and how your lips wobble.

You smile, relived, nodding.

Since your failed attempts to communicate with Seungkwan, you had somewhat given up on having the father of your child be present; Especially with how avoidant of commitment he always presented himself to be.

Ever since he left for the big city, Seungkwan always brushed off relationships as flings, never lived in one place too long, failed to settle down anywhere. It’s hard, believing his words.

But you’re nothing if not a fool for him.

Seungkwan smiles. Standing up, letting the chair bounce with the sudden movement, he kneels on the tiled floor in front of you.

His hands, his long, slender fingers find your own, enveloping your palms in his unending warmth. His touch is so delicate, yet so comforting. You didn’t even realise just how much you’ve missed holding his stupid pretty hands.

Blame it on the hormones how you completely break down into an ugly, crying, mess and fold onto his shoulders.

Without a word, he comforts you with soft pats until your sobbing ceases into soft sighs. Though, his legs might give up any time now from kneeling on kitchen tile.

“Let’s get married,” He whispers and as soon as the words leave his lips, his heart skips the next couple of beats in anticipation.

“What?” Hoarsely, you sniffle, raising your head to face him.

“Let’s get married, move to Seoul… Let’s raise the baby together.” There’s a dumbfounded smile plaguing his face, he can only imagine how happy you will be to know that he’s finally ready to be in a true, loving relationship.

You furrow your eyebrows.

“No.”

You watch his smile crack and shatter, he watches you face for any sign of jest, hoping you’d break into a smile and say “just kidding”. But you don’t. And you seem just as confused as he is.

You said you loved him.

Had you feelings changed in the matter of the three months you hadn’t talked? Was he not good enough?

He couldn’t understand why would you refuse his proposal.

“What?” Finally, his knees give up on him, wobbling until he falls to his butt, sitting on the cool tiled floor, though it seems almost warm compared to the coldness that washes over the pit of his stomach. “Why not?”

Your eyes don’t meet him, you wipe your nose and face with the sleeve of your cardigan. “I— I don’t understand why— Why you’re asking me that—“ You stumble over your words.

“We’re having a baby! It’s the obvious next step!” Seungkwan exclaims, as a matter of fact.

“No?” You shrug, “I’m not marrying you because you knocked me up!”

“Why not?!”

“People should marry out of love!” You explain, “Not just have a shotgun wedding, it never works out—! I don’t wanna be the girl you married because of the birth control fail rate!”

“Don’t you love me?”

His voice is such a broken whisper, so quiet and soft, almost as if accidental.

Your eyes finally meet his and your throat hurts with weight of the three letter confession, but you gulp it down, hoping your stomach acid will dissolve your unrequited feelings.

“Not enough to put my child through a loveless marriage.”

He stands up on shaky legs, wiping his hands on his jeans. Eyes refusing to meet yours lest he shed a single tear.

No, he wouldn’t cry, not in front of you.

Wiping his hands across his face, he lets out a heavy sigh and the very sound of the aftermath of such a heated discussion is enough to bring you to tears. Part of him aches to comfort you, to wrap his arms around your body and nuzzle against your neck. His hands itch to reach and hold you until your tears are gone, to whisper sorry over and over, until you take him back. But his pride boils his blood hotter than any wish of affection could.

“I’ll be at my mum’s.”

It’s all he says before he leaves and once the front door slams shut with a deafening ‘Bang’, you crumble to the cold floor, quietly sobbing into your hands.

It’s well past midnight by the time Seungkwan hears a somewhat familiar ‘thud’ on his window pane. The moon stands proud in the darkened sky, illuminating his childhood bedroom. He crawls out of bed, already missing the warmth of his duvet, and approaches the source of the noise with some caution, expecting an animal.

But once he pulls up the frosty glass, he sees you standing on his backyard, rocking back and forth on your feet, a large jacket wrapped around your shoulders.

Once you spot him, you flash a wide smile, lifting the one hand that doesn’t hold a dangerously large rock to wave.

Confused at your reasoning to be here, Seungkwan gestures wildly at his non-existent wristwatch. You just flip him off with a roll of your eyes and gesture for him to meet you at the door.

He scrambles to find his coat and not wake up his mother, a flashback of his teenage years.

How many times did you throw rocks at his window in the middle of the night or vice-versa. He always complained about how you were such a ‘bad influence’ but never once refused to meet you past midnight. You’d sneak out and fool around while the Sun was still down. And he would quietly sneak back in just as the Sun started to peak from the horizon.

Once the front door is safely shut and he’s sure that his mother isn’t up from the ruckus. He immediately turns to you.

“What the hell are you thinking?! It’s freezing out here!” He whisper-yells, wrapping the spare coat around your shoulders and throwing the scarf onto your face.

It smells strongly of his cologne; You inhale, letting the scent surround your lungs and flow through your veins, fill your bloodstream with his essence.

“I’m really craving convenience store food,” You speak out so meekly, your eyes hazy with sleep and nose tingling in the cold night air. Any other strong words he had conjured walking downstairs die on his tongue at the sight of your soft smile.

“You’re paying,” It’s a truce.

You smile excitedly, adjusting the scarf around your neck.

That convenience store just a street down from his childhood home had been the set for many his teenage adventures. Every poorly kept wall and crack in the concrete held cherished memories of your youth. The food hadn’t changed in the decades passed, yet it still beat any three-star restaurant he made a show of dining in.

You fill the basket with junk food, happily swaying back and forth under the blinking fluorescents. Seungkwan scoffs at your happiness over instant-noodles.

He pays and you grab your things, finding a place to sit while he prepares the noodles.

You’re snacking on chips when he returns with the noodles, practically throwing them down on the counter before he blows at his fingertips. You giggle at his misfortune.

“Should we talk?” You ask, chowing down on your food, moaning at its divine taste.

Seungkwan tuts at your happiness. He’d taken you to expensive restaurants before, wined and dined you into five-star hotels. But somehow, these soggy noodles tasted better than anything else.

“It’s fine,” He says.

You hum.

He notices how you cradle your bump when you eat.

You did it earlier, too, when he was at your place.

“Is the baby happy?” He asks, eyes focused on his food.

You break into a wide smile, “Mhm, very happy.”

You’re unable to see his face, but you see his cheeks rounded into a gorgeous smile.

Suddenly, seeming to remember something, you hum. “I had to give you this,” You speak with your mouth full which causes Seungkwan to scowl with a disgusted face.

He watches you fumble with your jacket pocket until you pull out a crumbled, tiny, piece of paper. You hand it to him.

It’s a sonogram.

A blurry, black and white, mess of pixels that he can’t help but be weirdly attached to immediately.

There’s such a warm smile on your face when you lean onto his shoulder, pointing at the picture.

“Here’s the little feet… Here’s the head…”

Unknowingly, he reaches his pointer finger to touch that teeny tiny blurry head.

“It’s a shitty photo,” His voice cracks and he doesn’t hide it well.

You’re giggling, and it’s a comforting, lovely sound, “It’s not so bad.”

“Do you think they’ll look like me?” He asks in a quiet whisper filled with wonder.

“Oh, I hope not, the poor thing,” You tease, earning an annoyed hiss.

“They’d be lucky when the other option is looking like you,” Laughing at his quip, you lean over his shoulder, daydreaming about the looks of your baby.

Leaving the convenience store, you munch on a corn dog, swaying your hands in the breeze. The next stop comes naturally, the nearby playground where you spent most of your nightly escapades during your teenage years.

“What do you think it’s gonna be?” He asks, taking one of the unoccupied swings.

You follow suit, sitting on swing. “I don’t know,”with a shrug, you return his question, “What do you think?”

“I haven’t thought about it…”

Humming, you focus on your corndog. “I might find out next appointment, if the baby doesn’t decide to close their little legs.”

He perks up so adorably, “When is your next appointment?”

“Next week,” You reply and he quietly ponders just how will he manage to sneak in. “You’re gonna be there, right?”

“Yeah, of course,” Seungkwan says nonchalantly, but hides a beaming smile behind his right hand.

There’s a couple minutes of silence, though you don’t feel compelled to speak. You just sit there, rocking back and forth and enjoying this peaceful moment.

“How far along are you?” It’s a shy question, one he thinks he should’ve known, as the father.

“Sixteen weeks,” it’s such an automatic answer you don’t even question it until you can hear his soft murmurs as he counts on his fingers just how many months that is.

“Four months?”

“Mhm,” You reply, taking the last bite of your snack.

“Shouldn’t you be… I don’t know, bigger?”

You laugh, “I just started showing last week.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I mean, you could feel my stomach was more rigid than flabby but at a glance no one could tell.”

“Does it feel hard?"

“A bit?” You stand up and walk to where he’s sitting, “Here, feel it.” Seungkwan puts his feet down, ceasing any movement from the swing and wraps his hands around your bump. It’s weird, having someone touch your stomach. In fact, aside from your doctor, he was the first to do so.

You watch him look at your belly like it were his everything; his caramel eyes hold so much adoration. There’s stubborn hope that burns in your heart that, maybe, if you have him by your side, everything will be okay.

On the day of your appointment, Seungkwan accompanies you to the clinic, rushed whispers and fake stories told to his mother about his whereabouts. If it were up to him, he’d announce it to the world but you still feared that his fear of commitment would rear its ugly head and you would end up alone once again.

You’d messaged the receptionist, asking for some discretion during your appointment, however, you did notice some whispering coming from the nurses about TV comedian Boo Seungkwan’s appearance at an OB-GYN clinic.

He is annoyingly lovely, reassuring you over and over that it’s okay, he’s told his manager about it and things will be handled. Which in hindsight is somewhat terrifying that his manager knows about your pregnancy before the baby’s own grandparents.

Called into the office and free from the judgement-heavy waiting room, you rush inside, shedding your cardigan and laying on the bed. You’re practically a pro at this while Seungkwan struggles with the best ways how to hold your purse and coat.

He even looks surprised at how brazenly you unbutton your trousers and pull them out of the way.

Your doctor, a lovely middle-aged lady and mother of one of your students, is very glad to see you and quite puzzled at Seungkwan’s presence. She, however, is more than willing to explain the process and answer his every question, no matter how stupid or how many times he’s asked it in the past half hour.

“Everything alright?” She asks, spreading the cold gel along your skin. You never did get used to that goopy, gross feeling.

You nod and she turns on the large monitor sitting above the bed. Seungkwan stands almost a foot away from the bed, clinging to your belongings, sneakily rearing his head toward the monitor.

“This is the head,” She announces, holding the image still as she takes a screenshot for later. “Development is looking nice, mum.” She smiles before correcting herself, “…And dad.”

You giggle at how weird it sounds to be referred to as a parent just yet.

It’s not long before the room is filled with that muffled thump-thump sound you’d recorded and played over and over the past couple of months.

Seungkwan worriedly looks at you.

You smile at his dumbfounded, worried expression.

“That’s their heartbeat,” She tells Seungkwan, still enjoying the amazement of first-time parents even after so many years.

“Come closer,” You urge.

And he does so, standing by your side and staring up at that big monitor, watching the blurry grey blob move around. That muffled, almost wet sounding constant thump seems to make his own heart pound faster.

Seungkwan had somewhat come to term about being a parent; keyword being somewhat. It’s something to be told about it, even seeing the pregnancy tests you held onto as a keepsake. But hearing this baby’s beating heart, seeing them move around in that screen, it felt so tangible.

And a lot scarier, too.

“Heartbeat is nice and steady,” You smile at her announcement.

You glance at Seungkwan, who promptly hides his face, shaking away the stubborn tears that threaten to be shed. Fuck these hormones, they’re the ones to blame at how emotional that scene made you.

“Seems like baby is cooperating today,” The doctor comments and you laugh, “Wanna find out the gender?”

Biting at your lips, you glance at Seungkwan. It’s the first time you’ve included him during this visit. And it’s his first time giving his opinion on such an important matter.

“Do you want to?” He returns the question.

“Your sister said I should have a party,” You grimace thinking about parading around and having people all over you.

He shrugs, “We could… But do you want to?”

“I don’t know?!”

“We can tell a trusted family member or we can wait until you are ready to find out, it will be on your chart, so when you’re ready, just give us a call.” The doctor explains, hoping it will make your choice easier.

Once again, you glance at him.

“It’s your choice,” He says.

“But what do you want?”

He thinks. “It’d be nice to have a get-together with the family, we can have a barbecue, nothing too fancy.”

When he put it like that, it sounded so tempting but maybe you were just hungry.

“I’d like to have a family member know, please,” You tell the doctor.

She smiles, “Alright, I can give you an envelope with the results, is that okay?”

You nod.

The rest of the appointment goes smoothly. Your stomach is growling so loudly you don’t even bother asking Seungkwan if he wants a ride home, you just drag him to your car and drive off to the nearest restaurant. Not that he has any complaints — He’s worked quite the appetite and many questions need answers.

You’re seated rather quickly and given menus.

“What do you want to eat? My treat,” It’s a sort of apology for dragging him out here.

Seungkwan looks at the menu, “I think I’ll take the carbonara,” He hums, “Wait, do you have any food that will make you throw up?”

“Huh?” You raise an eyebrow.

“In the movies you know someone is pregnant because they run out of the room to throw up.”

Oh, he’s 100% serious about this and you push down the part of you that finds it adorable.

You laugh, “No, I don’t. That’s usually on the first trimester… I actually didn’t get very nauseous, just very hungry.”

He hums in understatement. “Are you sure that was the baby and not just you?”

You ball up a napkin and throw at him.

Once the order is placed, the waiter leaves and you’re both left at the booth flipping through your respective phones.

“Do you think your sister can help us with the gender reveal?” You ask, finally putting your phone down.

“Yeah,” He nods, “When are you thinking?”

“I don’t know… I’ll start really showing soon, I want the cat out of the bag.”

The waiter returns with your drinks.

“Have you told your mum?” You ask, thinking that it should be okay. It’s only his family, they should know.

Seungkwan smiles. “Not yet…”

“She can’t find out at the party. You need to tell her beforehand.”

“I got it.”

“That reminds me, my family kind of doesn’t know you’re a part of it now…” You approach the subject quietly. “They may or may not hate your guts for not being here for me.”

He stares at you, dumbfounded until he breaks out into laughter.

“Goddammit.”

“What?! It’s not my fault!” You defend yourself, using the straw to toy with the floating ice cubes swimming in your orange juice.

“You could’ve told them!”

With a sigh, you admit defeat. “I’ll tell my family when you tell your mum.”

He’s fully ready to counterattack your jabs but is interrupted by the food, much to your pleasure.

You practically devour your food and leave no room for dessert, instead opting to buy something sweet after you’ve digested your lunch – you found your baby had a sweet tooth and you always craved a little sugary treat. You pay for the food and Seungkwan drives you home to plan a party.

Seungkwan’s sisters had been a Godsend. They helped with every step of the way and planned the entire gender reveal party — Which wasn’t as much of a party as it was a family barbecue.

All you needed to do was just show up and cut up the cake to reveal the gender of your baby.

You just started to really show, a protruding round little bump that poked its way through your every clothing, no matter how baggy. Seungkwan was the first to point out just how evident it became.

The guests wore a mix of pink and blue. You wearing blue yourself, a very strong believer that your midnight kicker is a little boy.

Meanwhile, the baby’s father completely disagrees, sporting his baby pink button-up.

Seungkwan hovers around you the whole day, a pleasant surprise. You’d been nervous about putting the news out there. Despite it making its way through the grapevine and rumours floating through the spaces you frequented, no one was really sure. It was finally time to rip out the band-aid and make the news public.

Though you insisted he hung a bit farther lest people he realise about the paternity, he showed no intents of doing so. He waited on you hand and foot, bringing as many cupcakes as your little bean wished for. It seemed that the past weeks spent together had given Seungkwan an awakened sixth sense, he could always guess what your baby craved and was more than willing to fetch the item, no matter how gross.

When it was finally time to cut the cake and find out, he was insistent on being at your side, guiding your knife-cradling hand — Part of it just pushing it away from himself. You did warn him about family posting it online and the fact that this could blow out of proportion, but he just reassured you again and again.

Most of the family has their phones out, recording the moment with bated breath. You can barely breathe yourself.

The knife slides in, cutting through soft icing.

You close your eyes, relying completely on Seungkwan to guide you. The knife comes back up and goes back in for the second cut.

Seungkwan hands you the spatula and helps you lift the cake slice up and into the vision of everyone around.

The spectators burst into cheer.

You still haven’t got half a mind to look down.

“A baby girl,” He whispers into your ear and your eyes flash open.

Putting the cake down before you fling off the yard, you immediately throw yourself onto his arms, a choked sob escaping your lips, “We’re having a girl!”

He kisses your hair and hides his red face from the camera, not willing to have his teary-eyed expression so eternal.

Once the adrenaline slows down, you tear your way through the cake, sitting far away from the commotion. Seungkwan is at your side, an arm resting behind you.

“Congrats!”

The male voice almost isn’t enough to tear away the undivided attention you’ve been giving to your piece of cake, but Seungkwan’s bewildered expression piques your interest.

You look up from your plate.

And there he is; Kwon Soonyoung, a high-school buddy of yours. He was a rowdy kid, fun to party with but not much else. He had a hard time knowing when to quit. You wonder just why he had been invited until you remember his mum is your mum’s neighbour.

“Thanks,” You hum, still occupied with your food.

“A baby, huh?”

“Yup.”

“You never mentioned anything about getting married in the reunion… I was surprised,” He beats around the bush, raising a curious eyebrow. Seungkwan scoffs at his very obvious actions.

“I’m not married,” You reply, not really paying attention.

He lifts an eyebrow, “Must have your hands full, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Soonyoung clears his throat.

“How far along are you?”

“Twenty weeks.”

Seungkwan watches him count on his fingers. You poke Seungkwan and nudge at his arm with your empty plastic plate, which you had done about twice this afternoon. He sighs and rolls his eyes, but gets up regardless.

“Wow, that’s really far along…”

You nod, no longer having your food to be entertained with.

“C-Can I feel it?”

God, you hate that question. But at least he asked instead of just shoving his grimy hands on your stomach. He’s lucky you’re in a good mood, you’ve had old ladies patting your growing belly all day, what’s another one? It was a special occasion.

“Sure.”

Soonyoung is very amazed, he keeps ooh’in and aah’ing, rubbing your bump over the fabric of your shirt for a bit too long. Usually old ladies would just touch your belly, feel your baby kick and make a comment or two on how healthy your child will be.

Seems like your baby girl is having none of it, either since she has seized any and all movement since Soonyoung approached. You don’t hide your discomfort.

Seungkwan comes back, plate and drink in hand. He’s so weirded out by the scene, you barely hold back a laugh at the sight of his scrunched up face, Soonyoung still, doesn’t realise anything else.

“The fuck you doing?”

Soonyoung jumps at the harsh words. “I’m just feelin’ her, man.”

Seungkwan side-eyes your unimpressed expression. You let Soonyoung coo at your stomach for another five seconds before you’ve had enough, you nod at Seungkwan.

“Alright, that’s enough.” Seungkwan hisses, stomping his foot onto the soft grass as if to attack. Soonyoung jumps, immediately removing his hands from you and you finally breathe in relief, leaning back in your seat and watching Seungkwan deal expertly with him.

“What’s it to you, man?” Soonyoung exclaims, but it comes out very timid under Seungkwan’s displeased gaze.

“That’s my fucking daughter you’re infecting with your weird ass vibes. I don’t want her to be contaminated any further.”

Completely taken aback, Soonyoung can’t find any words to reply to the insult. It’s one thing to be rude, but to insult a man’s vibes is unbelievable. He looks at you with twinkling, hopeful little eyes, waiting for you to be the less offensive parent.

“You heard him. Shoo,” You wave your hand, happy to be rid of company.

You and Seungkwan break into a fit of laughter, watching the poor guy walk away.

When the party is over, you’re more relieved than anything. Seungkwan stays behind and helps you clean up the place. Which basically means he cleans up while you shower and slip into your comfiest clothes, not that you’re complaining.

You’re sitting at the sofa, hand resting on your stomach when he finally comes downstairs. Fresh from his shower, he smells like your bodywash.

He settles down next to you.

“Tired?” You ask.

He hums.

“How’s my babygirl?” He whispers, leaning over to talk to your belly. You don’t fight the giddy smile that takes over. It had been a couple of weeks since Seungkwan started talking to your baby — The doctor recommended he pick up on the habit so the baby could recognise his voice.

And he had no shame at all, making small talk with your unborn daughter any time he could, which was a complete 180 from you, who felt quite awkward at times.

“Kicking,” You sigh, “It’s way past her bedtime!”

He laughs.

“Give mummy a rest, will you?”

You laugh, running your hand over your clothed stomach in the hopes of calming your baby. She seemed to settle down once Seungkwan started talking though.

“Here,” He grabs a tiny fancy bag hidden behind his back.

You raise an eyebrow. “What’s this?” He just smiles.

Opening the bag, you find the tiniest little off-white onesie, with the words “Daddy’s little bean” embroidered on the front. You pick it up, finding it so small in your hands you can’t imagine a little human would fill it up soon.

“You know this is our daughter’s first onesie?” You smile, running your fingers over the embroidered text.

Seungkwan stares at you.

“What?” You ask, worried.

He smiles. “It’s the first time you’ve said ‘Our’.”

Your brows furrow and then you smile again, pressing your lips together to fight any stubborn emotions. “Shit,” You sniff. “Of course she’s ours, I didn’t make her by myself!”

Goddamn hormones got you again. And it seems they got Seungkwan as well.

You put on a random movie as background noise, not that either of you pay much attention to the plot. You’re just talking about the busy day you’ve had and the fact that finding out your precious baby is a girl. It just makes it all feel much realer.

“Ugh, Soonyoung. Who invited him?” Seungkwan moans with a roll of his eyes.

Shoving the last bit of your chocolates into your mouth, you laugh. “I think my mum did.”

“Guy can not get a hint to save his life!”

You’re laughing at his dramatic antics.

“And all that touching?” He shakes his head.

“You were so cool,” You bite your lip. “When you told him to get away from your daughter…”

“Huh?”

“I like it when you’re…” You shift in your seat, pressing your legs together, “…Possessive.”

Seungkwan malfunctions, gulping so loudly you can hear it. He looks at your bare legs pressed together, shakes his head and focuses back on your face.

“Yeah,” He clears his throat.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise that halfway through your second trimester, you feel on fire. You’re constantly needy. It doesn’t help that Seungkwan has been so incredible and unbearably hot so often. “Uh-huh,” You hum, leaning forward until you can reach his arm to trace your fingers along his bicep.

The ghost of your touch is enough to send shivers up his spine. Seungkwan blinks once, twice and gulps.

“Don’t,” He pleads.

You sigh with a pout and Seungkwan thinks you look so adorable with that cute little pout in your pretty lips.

A shy smile blooms on your face and you lean over to rest your head on his shoulder. “It’s fine if you don’t want to,” You shrug. “But the doctor said it was fine.” Seungkwan had sat awkwardly looking around when the doctor had given you the green light for sexual activity as long as you took it slow.

“No— I want to! Trust me. I want to. But…” He looks over at your stomach. “You can sit on my face,” He offers but you sigh once again.

“I don’t wanna sit on your face, I wanna sit on your cock,” It’s such a genuine confession you don’t even realise the effect it has on him.

Seungkwan chokes.

He closes his eyes, needing a second after the sudden blood loss from his brain. “That’s— That’s something dangerous to say, y’know.”

“Good!” You cross your arms over your chest, “Now you know how I feel.”

Almost immediately, he coos reaching forward to grab at your waist. “Aw, do you feel that needy for my cock?”

“You suck.”

He smirks, “You wish.”

You groan in frustration burying your head in the crook of his neck, he runs his hands over your hair, the scent of your shampoo engulfs him.

“I want you, baby… So bad” he whispers, voice hoarse in the late night exhaustion.

“Take me, then.”

“Shit, you really know how to push my buttons,” He laughs, the vibrations of his chest travelling through your connected bodies. Your skin burns with desire and his lustful whispers might just melt you.You smile against his skin.

“Can I take you on that offer?”

“Holy fuck, yes.”

With all the care in the world, Seungkwan pushes you to lay back, one leg thrown over his shoulder and the other spread off the couch. He helps you place a cushion behind your back.

Your skin is searing against his cool lips, burning under his scattered butterfly kisses. His slender fingers toy with the band of your underwear, close but not nearly enough to satiate your lustful spell.

But alas, he relishes in your squirms and mewls of anticipation, drawing out each open mouth kiss to the inside of your thigh with devilish pleasure. With your underwear long forgotten, his fingers can graze along your bare hips and the hard bump along your stomach. Hands gripping your hips, he brings them toward his face, nose grazing along your pelvic bone, he inhales.

“Fuck… You smell fucking divine…”

Any possible reply you had flees from your mind the moment he licks a long stripe along your aching core. His hold keeps you in place, eager tongue diving into your heat to lap at your juices, humming at every nerve that jumps under his attention.

“Aren’t you sensitive?” He coos, a deep laugh reverberating from his chest and sending goosebumps through your entire body.

You try your best to disguise a scandalous moan with a fake cough. Though you suspect he knows.

“Sh–shut up!”

His left hand is cautiously placed over your belly, guaranteeing no touch will be too much while his right is running torturous circles along your outer labia. A teasing thumb draws figure eights on your clitoris, You let out a dreamy, muffled moan and it caresses his mind with lust, short-circuiting his brain for a brief second.

“You’re absolutely dripping, y’know?” He whispers against your throbbing heat, his tongue positively eager to dive in and taste you.

“Mhm,” You hum, “It’s your fault.”

A finger goes in easily, pushing and prodding at your gummy insides, stretching you out. “How is it my fault?”

You sigh, hand gripping onto a poor throw pillow, “Kept teasing me.”

Seungkwan smiles devilishly. Then adds a second finger, scissoring you open, relishing in the squelching sounds your arousal makes against his motions.

“Teasing you, yeah?”

“Y—Yeah!” You gulp,

“How come?” He eggs you on, teasingly slow on his ministrations.

“Kept walking around all— All dressed up. You looked so—“ It’s when he massages your most sensitive spot that you lose track of your thoughts.

“Go on, love.”

“Looked so… Handsome.”

“Did I, now?”

You nod.

He’s always one to love a compliment, especially in these circumstances when you sound so needy and sweet. “I need you to elaborate on that.”

“You looked really good with that button-up,” Seungkwan hums.

“And your hair styled like that— I wanted to jump you.” You confess With a third finger added, you feel the stretch from his gorgeous, slender fingers curling into your gummy walls. You don’t notice your hips grinding into his palm, but he does, of course.

Deciding it’s enough teasing for now, Seungkwan hums with a satisfied smirk, diving down to suckle on your clit.

Caught off-guard, you let out and an unfiltered curse followed by his name.

His fingers thrust in and out of you while tongue is dancing around your bundle of nerves. You’re squirming but his other hand holds you in place lest you interrupt him in his favourite activity.

Seungkwan is in fact, so lost in it, eyes closed with his eyelashes fluttering along his chubby cheeks, pleasured hums erupting from his throat that he doesn’t notice he’s been grinding against a poor cushion.

Your hand find his still damp hair, letting your fingers tangle into your beautiful locks, pulling at his scalp with every other move of his. He hisses at the sting from your desperation, but relishes in it.

With his finger curling against your most sensitive spot, he focus on driving you crazy with his tongue. Flattening it out against your clit, licking long stripes before running it over side to side just before he puckers his lips and sucks.

Your leg thrown over the couch falls onto his back, curling around his torso and pulling him closer, burying his face in your cunt as throw your head back and spill out desperate cries of his name.

He smiles against your throbbing clit, noticing just how much louder you’ve gotten.

“Close, baby?”

You nod with a whiny moan.

It’s more than enough to stimulate him back to his activities, keeping up the pace until you’re shaking even more than before. Your well-deserved orgasm hits your body with inexplicable waves of pleasure.

You whimper out his name in the sultriest of voices, enough to inebriate his mind with blind lust.

He doesn’t stop, not until you’ve come down from your brief euphoria and are whining from overstimulation, practically pushing him away — A far cry from your attempts of burying him into you just earlier.

Letting go of your tired muscles, you let out a tired sigh, throwing your head back. Post-orgasm bliss enveloping your body in its soft caresses. Seungkwan smiles, finally coming up to look at you.

You look positively satisfied, your skin glowing with a thin layer of sweat but most importantly — pleasure.

He leans forward, clean hand wiping away any stray hairs that are glued to your forehead. Seungkwan has such a soft smile on his swollen, reddened lips, his eyes kiss your face with adoring looks.

It’s almost easy to ignore the strained bulge poking at your stomach right now.

“You…” You point out and he looks somewhat caught.

“Sorry,” He clears his throat, pulling away.

You immediately grab his arm, “What? No— It’s not what I meant.”

His pretty eyes are locked on you. “I’ll take care of it.”

“No— Let me help you,” You bite at your lower lip, not ever willing to admit the idea of pleasuring Seungkwan aroused you to no end

“What? No, you’re—“

“I can still use my hands, you idiot.”

The prospect of a handjob — of any part of you touching his dick, really — is enough to distract him from any insults thrown his way. Hiding his excitement, Seungkwan sits back, legs spread open as he waits for you to settle to his side.

It doesn’t take much to pull his rigid cock from his precum stained sweats. It bobs up, standing red and angry against his stomach. He hisses at the sudden feeling of cold air caressing his searing skin.

Chewing on your lip, you lean forward, the brushing of your bare arms enough to make his cock twitch.

You lick your fingers and reach for him: up and down, up and down, running your thumb along his slit, smearing beads of rich precum along his length.

While his lips hold nothing but soft pleas and whines, you work your way over his length, reaching in between your legs to use your own come as lube — Oh, that drove him absolutely insane. The very thought of having your essence wrapped around his cock, shit, it’s still warm, too.

His head rests on your shoulder, every heavy breath tickles your skin. You bite your lower lip, containing your own moans at such a delicious sight. Seungkwan melts like putty in your touch.

Seungkwan whines into your neck, a loud gulp makes his adam’s apple bob up and down, but you’ve got your mind laser-focused on giving him just as great of an orgasm. Not that he’s too far from it, no. His fingers, which before were so teasing and precise, now grasp at your arm and clothes, fingers curling around fabric in desperation.

He squirms as you quicken your pace, legs flailing but never interrupting you. Adjusting yourself on the sofa, you lean forward until you are close enough to run your tongue along his length.

“Shit!” He jumps, arm moving to grab the back of the sofa.

You lips graze along his absurdly hot skin, leaving well placed kisses at the base; Not ceasing the motion of your hands, instead letting your other hand join in, massaging his balls.

“I’m close—“ He manages to spew out just before he finally cums.

Hot spurts of cum fly up his torso and land on his clean shirt, his legs shake under him and he can barely muster out a single moan. You keep up your strokes until he has nothing left to give.

Seungkwan leans back, arm thrown over his eyes, loud pants coming from his lips.

Teasingly, you kiss his tip before you tuck it back into his underwear.

You wish you had any energy left to tease him some more, but you want nothing more than a bath and your soft bed. So you lay back on the soft, eyelids weighing a ton.

He finally faces you, a tired smile on his lips as he wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his chest.

“Shower?”

You smile, “You read my mind.”

“I want to get a house.”

His announcement comes as a surprise. It had been a lazy weekend, you just started working on dinner and he offered some help.

“A house? Do you not like your fancy apartment anymore?” You pry curiously.

“I’m gonna keep my apartment, it’s just… I want to get a house here. For when I come visit you.”

“You can just stay with me,” You shrug, not seeing the big picture and he’s having a hard time getting out what he really wants to say.

“Yeah, but… I want our daughter to have a big house and a backyard where she can play— No offence to your place, but I’d like her to have more space.”

Stopping in your tracks, you hold back ‘Aw’ing at him. “That’s so sweet.” He smiles, relived. “But…”

Seungkwan half-panics, “But what?”

“I won’t lie… I have been thinking about moving…”

“To Seoul?” He inches closer.

You nod. “Travelling will be hard for you and… She’s gonna need her daddy.” There’s a soft smile playing in your lips, though Seungkwan is visibly emotional after your words. The stock you’d been carefully adding vegetables to has come to a boil, yet you don’t bother giving it any attention.

“A-Are you sure? It’s a big change.”

“My contract with the school is almost over and in a couple of months I won’t be able to work until the baby is big enough.”

“That’s true… But you love it here!”

“It’s not like I’ll never come back,” You wave off his concern, “I was thinking I could get a place just outside of the city.”

You had been thinking about it ever since Seungkwan came back and decided to be a part of your daughter’s life. Actually, you’d given it some thought when you found out you were pregnant; you loved your hometown but you wanted to give your child the best chance in life and moving into the big city meant better jobs for you and better education for your baby.

Having him in your child’s life meant that he’d be away for work most of the time and he seemed too excited for all of it, it’d break your heart to see him miss the most important milestones because of the distance.

Seungkwan bites back an excited smile, trying his best to act nonchalantly about it all. “You could move in with me while we look at houses.” He says quietly, side-eyeing for your reaction.

You scratch at your neck, unsure of how to react. “Kwannie, I wouldn’t be comfortable making you buy a whole house…”

“I promise it will be in our daughter’s name. We’ll find somewhere with a big backyard and maybe a pool,” He no longer hid his excitement. The whole situation had been gnawing away at him, too.

You don’t deny that it sounds amazing. “The pool needs to be fenced.”

“Of course.”

“It has to have a large kitchen,” You play along.

He smiles, “Consider it done.”

“Three bedrooms minimum.”

“Are you planning on having an office? Or—“ Seungkwan gulps, a sudden heat blooming in his cheeks, “You want another kid?”

You choke on your own saliva, staring at him. “A room for each of us!” Slightly embarrassed, he scratches at his neck. “That’s fine, too…”

Not that having two kids sounded bad. You were only thinking of your daughter, of course. You didn’t want her to be lonely growing up. That’s it. Nothing to do with how incredible of a father Seungkwan has shown himself to be and how much that has overthrown your brain.

“I’ll start looking,” Seungkwan says, reaching for his phone.

“Already?” You raise an eyebrow.

“I want us to have everything settled before she’s here.”

“Why the rush? We’ve got a couple of months before I give birth.”

“Once she’s born we won’t have time to do anything. And my apartment isn’t exactly child friendly…” Not just because he wants to move in with you, not at all.

“That’s true…” You bite at your lip, “Shit, closing on a house takes time, right? What if we don’t have enough time?” Suddenly, you’re very worried about the next couple of months.

“Leave it to me, I’ll make sure we find the perfect place,” He reassures you with a warm smile and you hate how it makes everything alright.

You throw your arms around his neck, excitedly jumping up and down. "Thank you, Kwannie, you’re the best,” Your words are saccharine sweet and Seungkwan finds himself to be overcome with arousal; which had become a common occurrence as of lately.

Not that he didn’t find you hot before, but it felt like everything was intensified a thousand fold. You were just so sweet with your protruding bump and neediness. Every time you needed something you came straight to him, even with the smallest of tasks like opening a jar of peanut butter.

Although he liked to pride himself in being free from toxic masculinity, Seungkwan was nothing if not affected by you making him feel like a big strong man.

You’d just start planning on the future nursery and he reassured you 100% that he could build it all himself with his own two hands — You were so smitten, you immediately jumped to smother his cheeks with kisses.

And he could feel your figure against his chest, how round you'd become and it drove him insane. You bat your eyelashes at him once with those pretty eyes and he's at your feet doing whatever you asked.

He once caught you rubbing body oil over your stomach, claiming it would prevent stretch marks. Though any and all words fell on deaf ears, he was completely enamoured with the sight before him. You, fresh off the shower, slight damp hair, a comfy nightgown, an arm holding your tits out of the way while the other ran along your skin.

“Let me do it,” The words were out before he could even think about it. Not that he disagreed with the horny bits of his brain, this was a great idea through and through.

You scoffed and then realised he meant it. “Oh? Okay…”

Seungkwan stood behind you, chest flush to you semi-bare back, his strong arms wrapped around your waist, slender fingers running along your skin. God, the slightest brush of his fingertips sent shivers down your spine.

You squirmed every time his hands wandered just far down enough to graze the bunched up fabric of your beige panties — Not your sexiest pair, you admitted and wished you’d put on something cuter.

His hands, his gorgeous hands, kneaded onto the abundant flesh of your belly, easily gliding all over but never where you need it the most. It’s only when you feel him poke at your back, that you realise this has affected him just as much.

With a mischievous smile, you shake your hips, hearing a quiet growl erupt from his chest.

“Stop— I won’t be able to control myself—“

“You don’t need to put it in—“ Your voice is a siren’s call, dripping in lust with your tempting offers, he feels as if he might drown in your sweet essence, though it would be a lovely way to go.

“Fuck— You’ll drive me crazy, y’know.” He grumbles but you hear him fight with his trousers and boxers.

With a couple of pumps over his length, Seungkwan holds your hips still. Feeding his dick inch by inch through your legs, your heavenly warmth surrounds every inch of his skin, sending his heartbeat into a lust-filled frenzy.

Your panties offer an unfamiliar texture, but your thighs, oh, your thighs; hot and juicy, they clamp around his crying dick and he feels your lovely skin all over his length. It’s dizzying, having his penis so close to your hole after so long.

Oh, how he wishes to take you apart around him and watch you come undone again and again. Hips desperately rutting into yours, you feel the hotness of his cock practically burning your skin in red hot lust. You drip and melt into his body, losing where he ends and you begin, you are a simple puzzle and he's the one piece you need to feel complete. Letting your own desire overcome every sense, you soak through the fabric of your panties, enough for him to feel it.

“Fuck—“ Seungkwan groans, hiding his reddened face on the crook of your neck, letting his hot breath tickle your skin. “You’re so— so wet, baby.”

You nod mindlessly, hands holding onto his arms for some stability. Those beautiful slender fingers of his caress your body all over, kneading the abundant flesh of your breasts, dipping into the plunge of your nightgown to find your eager nipples and you throw your head back, presenting yourself to his enjoyment. His tongue runs across the dip of your neck with a trail of searing kisses, nibbles and hickies.

“Who’s got you like this, huh?” His sinful whispers dissipate amongst the curves of your neck, raising goosebumps along its path.

“You.”

“Say my name, princess.”

“You. Seungkwan, you do—“

The way his name rolls off your tongue so naturally stirs in him something primal, every breathy syllable burnt into his brain. His name belonged to you and you only. For you to chant over and over, to call his name in a breathless prayer.

You’re clenching around nothing, arched onto his body, relying on his grip for support. His movements are broken and shaky, timed by quiet hisses and groans. You can feel his length, hot and throbbing and you've never craved him as badly. Desire honey thick, it drips through your body, leaving a hazy trail in your mind, clouding any coherent thought, leaving you pliant against his body.

The tip of his cock rubs against your clothed clit and you moan out his name, your legs have suddenly given under the abrupt wave of pleasure that bleeds through your every inch. He holds you still, hips thrusting back and forth chasing his own pleasure until he finds it. White ropes splashing all over the floor and your thighs.

Seungkwan kisses your neck and shoulder, humming praises that clear the fog of your post-orgasmic-bliss brain. His hands caress you all over, your stomach, your arms. He tells you you’re beautiful, amazing, incredible and all the adjectives he can mutter.

He worships you as his own, honeyed words melting into the cracks of your heart.

“You’re lucky I’m so tired,” You huff out, leaning against him, relishing in the way it feels to be held.

He lets out a soft laugh, “Why is that?”

“If I weren’t dead tired, I would suck you dry and leave your balls emptier than they’ve ever been.”

You feel him harden between your legs. “Shit.”

It’s your turn to laugh.

Far from you hitting him with a classic “What are we?”, especially since you were the one to reject his rushed marriage proposal in the first place. But the way he looks at you with so much love is driving you insane.

And… You crave him.

Like nothing before.

His very presence enchants you beyond salvation, you’re enticed by his every move, his voice and even the scent that lingers after he leaves.

You went shopping for a dress over the weekend, realising everything you had no longer fits right and Seokmin’s sister's wedding was just around the corner. Seungkwan, of course, tagged along, flashing his black card at every chance possible.

Every dress you tried on, he looked at you with such a hunger in his eyes, your panties were ruined from the very beginning.

Leaving the store with your purchase, you passed by a baby store and of course, you had to go in. The worker confused you for a married couple and Seungkwan didn’t deny it, he just kept inquiring about the different prams, very adamant about the safety of your daughter; Something that had turned into quite the turn on.

Squeezing into a dress and heels and doing heavy makeup on a Saturday hadn’t been in your schedule for years. But the event of a wedding had you rushing to get ready in time. You were very visibly pregnant by now, despite it not being that long since you’d started really showing. Part of you dreads meeting all the familiar faces and having to hear all of their gossip while the other just wants to get it all over with.

Seungkwan had elected to get ready at your place — He was practically glued to your side all the time. You couldn’t even say he wouldn’t accompany you to the bathroom because he almost certainly had.

He, of course, flaunts his mile-long line of luxury fitted suits to be chosen from, standing at the mirror for ages just to pick out a colour to truly highlight his complexion. Meanwhile, you’ve been ready for at least half an hour.

“I like the black,” You suggest.

“It’s too obvious,” He whines.

“How about beige?”

He ponders with a low hum.

“It’s classy!” You add.

“You convinced me,” He smiles, making work of removing his bathrobe.

The navy microfiber slips off his smooth skin all too easy, revealing his enticingly gorgeous figure — He always had an elegant aura, with slender limbs and and air about him that just craved success. But way past the puberty woes and knocking on the door of his early 30s, Seungkwan had filled up into a tempting heartthrob.

His biceps were much bigger and well-defined, even under your dim bedroom lighting and his chest, good heavens. His pecs pushed against every article of clothing that dared cover them, making their existence hard to ignore.

A sigh leaves your painted lips.

Seungkwan’s eyes meet yours through the mirror’s reflection, watching you sitting at the edge of your unmade bed. His gaze is dark and defiant, a prideful smirk clings to his pretty lips under the awareness of your drooling.

You can’t say watching his slowly button up the tightest dress shirt was doing very good for your crazy hormones. His damp hair draping over his forehead, down to his sharp eyebrows and long eyelashes. The sight of his gorgeous hands deftly making work of the buttons is just hypnotic.

The both of you had yet to have sex — the penetrative kind. Every other type had been used and abused and yet, you still craved for much more. And he couldn’t claim to be blissfully unaware of your lustful spell, either. Oh, how he loved to tease you at every waking chance he had.

While you’re very aware of the effect he has on your body, fanning your sizzling face with your hands, Seungkwan picks up the matching trousers, slipping them past his long legs and above the roundness of his boxer-clad ass, you can clearly see it bounce when he does a little jump to help the fitting of his slacks.

Alluring fingers playing with the zipper and buttons, he lets his eyes travel to meet your figure once again.

Your eyes are arrayed in fervent desire, the type that simmers under low heat, quietly bubbling and changing form, caramelising under constant showers of passion, tasting sweeter by the minute. Oh, how he adored you.

“You ready?”

You snap out of it, jumping in your seat with a quiet “Mhm?” Seungkwan offers you a toothy grin, “Are you ready?” He asks once again, reaching for the blazer that would finish his masterpiece.

Nodding, you push yourself off the bed. “Yeah, just need my shoes and I’m ready.”

Though Seungkwan protested your choice of footwear, claiming they were far too dangerous, you still went ahead and wore your chunky kitten heels, they just made your legs look too good not to wear.

Seungkwan had even rented a car for the whole ordeal; a flashy sports car with a sleek design and too-sharp edges. But he was living for the whole ordeal of dressing up for an event.

While you quietly watch him drive, there's something on the back of your mind. You hadn't discussed your relationship, ever. Usually, – before the baby, that is –, you would keep to yourself when in public, however, you are unsure if your unspoken agreement still stands. The two of you rarely ever arrived at events together, hell, there's plenty you've done together in the past month that you'd only dreamed of before.

And while you're nibbling on your manicured nails, Seungkwan sees the situation quite a lot clearer than you do. When he pulls into the parking lot for the fancy event hall, he exits the car in a haste and he's at your feet just before you manage to open your own door.

You give him a surprised smile, placing your hand in his and accepting his help to exit the car.

However, he doesn't let go once you're out of the vehicle and are finished smoothing your dress, his hand still holds yours while he hands the key to the valet.

Biting at your lip, you can't help the giddy butterflies that make themselves at home in your stomach.

You are both greeted by the bride and groom's family, putting on a nice smile and giving them all the compliments in the world.

It wasn't uncommon for Seungkwan to turn heads, he loved that aspect of his live in the spotlight, that doesn't mean you had as easy of a time seeing every single guest pay attention to you, letting their whispers fill the place.

Noticing your nervousness, Seungkwan gives your hand a light squeeze.

Before either of you can say anything, you're interrupted by the world's brightest smiler. The bride's very proud little brother is approaching you.

"Oh, you guys! I'm so excited you made it!"

"Don't you clean up nice, mister?!" You tease him, and he smooths down the jacket of his suit with a smile.

"You guys look great as well!" His eyes trail down to where your hands are joined but he doesn't say anything. "Have you already taken your pictures with Sohee?"

"We just got here," Seungkwan explains.

"Well, let's go, then."

He doesn't leave any room to protest, guiding the both of you through the hall and down into the waiting room. Seungkwan is surprisingly not as nervous as you expected him to be, which is somehow, more worrying.

First thing you're met with is the horde of bridesmaids with champagne flutes and loud cackling as they gossip about the guests. With Seokmin's presence, you easily dodge their gaggle.

Sohee is sitting on the wide sofa, surrounded by beautiful flowers as she takes pictures with a group of people.

"Her dress looks insanely expensive," you quietly comment, to which Seungkwan hums in agreement.

When the people leave, Seokmin talks to the photographer for a second.

"Sir, you sit to her left and you to her right, please," The photographer announces.

You move to sit on the couch, though Seungkwan never lets go of your hand, assisting you until you're sat. Only, does he move to his designated spot.

"You look beautiful, Sohee" You tell the bride briefly, but she doesn't quite pay attention. Her eyes are scanning Seungkwan's figure.

"Look here, please," The photographer raises their hand and Sohee finally faces the camera.

The photograph is taken in a flash.

Barely managing to motion standing up, you're immediately helped by Seungkwan's unfairly soft hands.

"Are you in town for long?" Sohee asks suddenly, sending both of your's attention her way.

You look at Seungkwan, waiting for his reply.

He nods, "Yeah."

Looking like she expects more, Sohee just licks her lips and nods, "Do you think–"

She's interrupted by the large group of middle-aged ladies that pour into the room with their proud smiles and compliments. Seokmin immediately greets them, gesturing for them to sit by the gorgeous bride-to-be.

"Thanks for the invite," You bid your goodbyes, leaving the waiting room.

You and Seungkwan gossip about the place and the seemingly large budget while you wait for the ceremony to begin.

The ceremony is just as any other wedding you've ever attended; only a thousand times more extravagant. Not that you expected anything but. It's beautiful, the bride and groom seem to have practiced the whole thing way too many times.

Everyone stands up to watch the bride throw the bouquet, you wonder who did she pick to receive it.

As you clap your hands, tip-toeing to watch just who is going to be Sohee's successor in the marriage market, you don't notice the flying bundle of flowers coming directly toward your face.

You're lucky Seungkwan still has his reflexes, he expertly catches the bouquet before you can even acknowledge its very presence.

His pretty eyes widen in panic, looking at the very pretty flowers in his hand.

It doesn't take him too long to come to his senses and kindly pass the bouquet off to Sohee's chosen friend.

You laugh at the situation.

"Congrats," You tease, "I guess you're getting married first," nudging his shoulder, you watch him roll his eyes.

"I'm not marrying anyone in the next six months unless you're up for it."

It's such a silly, passing comment. He doesn't even pay attention to what he says, but you feel your stubborn stomach butterflies jump circles in the lining of your oesophagus.

The post-ceremony lunch is amazing and you, of course, abstain from any celebratory drinks. Seungkwan drinks double in your honour, despite your objections. At some point in the festiveness, your old classmates find you and you enjoy the nostalgic banter. Although you were questioned about your very visible pregnancy, it went much better than any of your expectations. And it seems most linked Seungkwan's sudden hovering and overprotection to his contribution to your current state.

"My feet are killing me," You groan, settling into a bench.

"I told you not to wear heels," Seungkwan says.

You roll your eyes, "I know… But they make my legs look great."

Seokmin laughs, "It's fine, half of the bridesmaids are barefoot by now."

"You make a great point," You point at Seokmin, toeing off your heels. "I wish I had brought some backups, though…"

"That's why I brought you some flats, they're in the car," Seungkwan has this proud puppy smile, knowing he did something amazing and awaiting the praise.

You groan in happiness, "I could seriously get up and kiss you, but my feet are killing me," You confess.

Seungkwan laughs, "I'll get them, don't move."

"No problem, I'll ask someone in the staff to bring it to you," Seokmin waves it off.

"Oh, please, it's just a pair of shoes. "Exactly," He responds, leaving to wave at a staff member.

Watching you fidget, Seungkwan sees you're shoving your feet back into your heels.

"Why are you putting your shoes back on?"

"I need to pee, I think."

"You think?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Oh, I'm sorry it's hard to know exactly how full my bladder is when your daughter is constantly kicking it."

"She's a good girl."

You huff, "I'm going to pee," You announce, raising your hand when he motions to stand up," Don't follow me to the bathroom, it's weird."

Seungkwan wants to protest, but you shoot him a pointed glare.

It takes maybe thirty seconds of him being unattended for Sohee to spot from the other side of the hall, she gathers the many layers of her dress and walks up to him, sporting a bright smile.

"Seungkwan! So good to see you!"

He nods, "Thanks for the invite and congratulations." It's a sincere wish.

"Well, I just had to invite my biggest admirer, hadn't I?" She jokes, lightly tapping at his shoulder, Seungkwan just sort of shrugs. Licking her lips awkwardly, Sohee continues, " You know… I remember when you were younger, you were just crazy about me!" She laughs.

Wishing you'd hurry up, he flashes her a hesitant smile.

He didn't want anything to do with Sohee, not now, not ever.

It was the type of realisation he thought would hurt. He spent so long reaching for the unattainable, trying to patch up wounds from the past with cold revenge that at some point those wounds started to quietly heal.

He was more than content with his career, he accomplished so much in his short years on TV using only his overflowing charisma – and despite any past scandals, had talks of producing and presenting other shows. Seungkwan was loved by the public, adored by brands and welcomed with open arms just about anywhere. He had proven to himself and everyoned that ever dared doubt his star potential that he was just that; a star, destined to be admired.

But most importantly, he had his mind filled with wonder over how the future would turn out.

Every night, as he laid by your side and watched you drift off to sleep, Seungkwan would caress your stomach and imagine what his daughter will look like. He wondered just who she would take after in appearance and if her personality would match her lookalike. He also worried if he was fit to be a parent at all.

And then you would stir in your sleep, and he would feel those tiny but very powerful kicks, then everything feels alright. He's right where he belongs; right by his girls.

His wholesome epiphany doesn't mean Sohee will take a fucking hint. She keeps initiating contact, flashing that fake smile of hers.

"I tried to be an actress, y'know," It's a very obvious hint at her hidden agenda, he realises, though he hasn't got half a mind to lose her. "Couldn't make it because of a bitch that sabotaged me…" She scoffs, painted lips curling into a frown, "But I was good, really good! I would've made it if it weren't for what happened!"

Seungkwan nods politely, wishing he had a drink in his hand.

"You reckon I would've made it?"

"Mhm?"

"As an actress, you think I would make it big?" She smiles expectedly.

"Sure," He shrugs and it's clearly not enough.

"Oh, please. You can be honest!" She nudges at his shoulders, her hands lingering far too long, rubbing across his chest.

He licks at his lips, openly uncomfortable. "We can't know for sure."

"I mean, look at me! I've got a face for drama, " She poses, "I'm unforgettable, y'know. Well, I'm sure you know," Sohee laughs, "you're probably still hung up on me!" she bites at her lip, looking him up and down.

That strikes a bit of a nerve.

"No– I–"

"It's fine! I know… And…" She takes a step closer, "I'm not opposed to it," Her manicured finger draws circles on his chest, "I'm open if you wanna play," She winks.

Seungkwan takes a step back.

"I just think… it takes more than an average face to make it into the industry… And into my bed."

Oh, how furious she is.

It's such a sudden shift in her mood, he almost flinches. Can't say it wasn't satisfying as hell getting to say that after so many years.

"What?! Average?! Average?! Oh, fuck you! Just because I rejected you in high school, doesn't mean you should hold a grudge!"

Seungkwan looks around at the people that suddenly are very interested in their conversation.

"I'll tell you what, I don't need your opinion! Every day, I get stopped by men dying to get with me and you know what–"

It seems you heard his silent but very desperate prayers, appearing just when he needed you the most.

"What's up?" You ask, quite confused.

"What is up, is that this cunt holds a grudge because I rejected him in high school," Sohee crosses her arms childishly.

"That's not–" Seungkwan tries to explain it to you, but you know Sohee well enough to predict her temper.

"Come on, it's your wedding day, why do you care what he thinks, just relax," You argument, hoping it's enough to convince her.

"You're right, it is my wedding day and I deserve an apology."

"A what now?"

"An apology, I deserve one or you're kicked out."

"Oh, fuck off!" You yell, turning on your heels and dragging Seungkwan with you.

You hope you're far away enough she won't give chase. Or security, maybe.

Too bad for you she immediately signals for security and you hurry your step.

Bumping into Seokmin on the way, you steal your flats from his hands.

"You guys, what's the hurry?" He laughs.

"Thank you, Seokmin, great party!" You yell, shrugging off your heels and toeing into the flats as fast as you can.

Still confused, he pries in further, "What? Are you leaving?"

"Yeah, long story, your sister kicked us out."

"What?!"

Seungkwan crouches to pick up your discarded shoes, "Great party, though."

"Yeah, I loved seeing you and the kids, we need to schedule a reunion sometime," You add.

"Are you done?" Seungkwan asks.

"Yeah," You nod.

"Let's go," He grabs your hand.

"Bye, Seokmin!"

"Bye-bye," You parrot.

And the two of you bolt down the hall toward the parking lot.

You're laughing your heads off by the time the valet brings around the rental, recalling just how crazy the past five minutes have been.

Seungkwan opens the door for you after leaving the valet a very generous tip.

"What did she want?" Your curiosity gets the best of you.

"Oh, fucking hell," He rolls his eyes, pulling out of the event hall. "You won't believe it."

"What?" You're already laughing at the idea.

"She kept hitting on me."

"What?" No longer laughing, you adjust yourself in your seat, "And what did tell her?"

"I said she needs more than an average face to make it into my bed."

You laugh awkwardly, not sure how to reply.

"Does that mean you're finally over her… Or… Do you still like Sohee?"

"Are you kidding me?!" He laughs at the absurdity of your suggestion. "I mean, I guess I knew it in my heart ages ago, but I sort of realised it today… I got over her a long time ago."

"You mean it?"

"Oh, getting kicked out of her wedding didn't prove it?"

You smile, "I guess it does prove you don't want to fuck her."

"You couldn't pay me to!"

Barely containing your foolish smile, you play with the hem of your dress.

"Besides," Seungkwan opens a mischievous smile, "I've got my eyes on the world's hottest MILF,"

You groan, hitting at his shoulder between your fits of laughter, "Stop it!"

Arriving at your place, you couldn't wait to finally get out of your party outfit and into your comfy pajamas. Toeing off your shoes halfway through your hallway, you pit-patter into your dimly lit bedroom with Seungkwan as your shadow.

"Can you help me?" Your plea is sleepy and sweet, carrying him to you before he can even process your words.

You're standing barefoot, dress clinging onto your shoulder, zipper halfway down. Seungkwan reaches for it, feeling the sudden spark of your bare skin grazing along his fingers. Once the zipper is all the way down, you sigh in relief and shrug the dress off. He feels like a puberty stricken teenager, being overcome with lust with a simple glance of your hyptonitisng body.

Looking back, you watch him stare at you, completely frozen.

"What?"

He doesn't respond.

"Do you want help, too?" You lean forward with a tease.

Fingers wrapping around his expensive tie, you pull him just close enough until his breath caresses your lips. Watching through half-lidded eyes, you glance at his pouty lips, overcome with the urge to take them.

Reading your mind, Seungkwan cups your burning hot cheeks, crashing his lips against yours in a desperate kiss.

It's disgustingly messy with clashing teeth and breathless moans devoured alive with insatiable hunger. You're melting into his arms, clumsy synchronised steps toward the bed, almost tripping on your discarded dress.

Your fall into the bed isn't enough to part your frantic kiss, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him impossibly close, feeling the fabric of his suit grazing against your naked body, every wrinkle and fold a torturous experience.

Seungkwan shrugs off his blazer, throwing it somewhere in the room. He pulls at his tie with one arm and had your eyes been open, they'd be glued to the throbbing veins that decorate his skin.

"Keep–" You breathe out, "Keep it on–"

His smile is almost devilish. "Fuck me, aren't you naughty?"

You nod thoughtlessly, "I'm fuckin' crazy about you in that suit…" "Yeah?" Egging you on, he can barely contain his own lust at your words. The mere thought that you had been containing yourself all day, that he drove you just as crazy.

"Mmh," You kiss him, "I was thinking about you all day,"

"Fuck."

His hands are on your body, grabbing, kneading at your burning skin, touching every inch he pour his greedy touch on. Although he wants to kiss and your worship you, he dreads the thought of leaving your lips. Oh, such a tough choice.

Expertly, he undoes your bra, giving into your relief and lust at once. His hands find your breasts, massaging, flicking at your sensitive nipples.

Every single one of your quiet moans are muffled with his eager kisses.

You're pulling him closer and closer, toying with his dress shirt, pulling at each button. Torturously slow, you undo every button, feeling every inch of his bare skin on yours.

Pretty fingers grazing along the bulge that strains his slacks, you bat your eyelashes with a pout and he near melts. A mischievous smile plays at your lips as you blindly navigate his belt and zipper, finding your way into his pants.

He pulsates in your hands, hot and heavy and burning in desire.

You run a single finger along his length and it's enough to have him stuttering.

"I need to be in you, baby–"

You're drunk with lust at this point, the very thought of having him inside you is clouding your judgement beyond recognition. You can only nod fervoursly, parting your legs to receive him.

He leans back on his heels, staring at you, glossy eyes and parted lips, practically begging for him. He takes a long, hard stare at your round figure, the size of your stomach, the very thought that it was his seed that made you like this driving him insane with the primal sense of possession.

"You drive me crazy, y'know," He whispers against your kiss-swollen lips and you feel every vibration of his lust ridden whisper.

Maybe it's the atmosphere or the abstinence that's making you drunk on him. But you feel every inch of his body, every single touch of his feels a thousand times. His body burns against yours, fastened hearts irregularly dancing around each other's beats.

Having him inside you after so long feels like nothing ever before. You're getting split on his cock, mouth in a constant 'O'. He can feel every agonising inch of your wall clinging and squeezing around him.

Seungkwan holds himself back, willing his mind to think completely natural thoughts lest he come too fast. You're so warm, wrapping tightly around his length, pulsating and eager. What could a man do besides keep you filled up?

He drinks your every broken moan, every ragged breath resembling his name, relishing in the effect he has on you.

With sluggish thrusts, Seungkwan finally moves. Bottoming out feels heavenly, you can barely think. How you're split open deliciously on his length, you feel him throb inside you, dragging out of your walls before slamming back in.

"Fuck– You're choking me, baby–" You hum, not really focusing on anything other than the way he feels.

Fastening his pace, he is entranced with how your body looks under him.

Your eyes are tightly closed, limbs tangled around. Your entire body is jiggling with every thrust of his, following his every move. Fuck. He buries his head in the dip of your neck, biting at your skin to quiet himself, hot breath tickling your sensitive skin.

He has to will himself into a slower tempo lest he finish too fast, no, he wishes to drag this out impossibly long. To savour every millisecond, burn it in his brain until he can see and think of nothing but the way you come apart under him, the way you melt and fit around his body.

Your entire body sizzles with unadulterated lust.

"I'm– I'm close," You warn.

He hums, interrupted by a groan.

"Cum for me, princess, come on–"

You nod, voice crescendo into a string of disconnected words, chanting his name over and over. The sight of your pretty face overtaken by pleasure is enough to send him into his own climax, spilling into you with a final thrust.

Careful not to crush you, Seungkwan collapses to your side, reaching for your hand to intertwine your fingers together. He brings your hand to his lips, placing a loving kiss.

You snuggle into his chest.

"Can't believe I just fucked a MILF."

You laugh in desbelief.

"What the fuck!"

Moving had always proven to be a sisyphean task, it was no different when moving in with the father of your baby with whom you had an unlabeled very complicated relationship. At least he was more than willing to actually pay for a moving company as opposed to enticing your closest friends with beer and pizza.

And you very close to a good day until you grabbed an unassuming bag, only to discover a huge gash that extended to some of the clothing inside. After a justified breakdown, you sighed and surrendered to fate.

“Do you have a sewing kit?” You ask Seungkwan, looking at the large hole in your favourite sweater.

“In my nightstand,” Seungkwan replies mindlessly, eyes glued onto the TV. While he did help with the moving, the harmless idea of turning on the game had suddenly resulted in him holding open boxes while standing in the middle of the hallway, very entranced by the game.

You make your way through the mess of discarded boxes and enter his bedroom, being welcomed by the ever enticing scent of his cologne.

It’s only a minute or two after, that Seungkwan realises the predicament he’s in and stumbles his way into the bedroom, tripping over every single item on the floor.

He does realise it took him too long.

"What's all this?" You furrow your brows, looking at the very large array of velvet boxes in his nightstand.

"Nothing," Seungkwan hurries, closing the drawer way too fast. It comes out less as something he's embarrassed of and more that you should keep out of his business, not what he meant, of course.

"Right, sorry," You clear your throat, turning away without ever meeting his eyes.

It's enough to make him realise how his actions were received. "It's… Nothing, really, I mean it."

"Yeah, of course," You shrug, forcing a smile.

He sighs, "I mean it, look," reaching to pull the drawer open, Seungkwan gestures to the items inside.

In the drawer are a few velvet boxes tucked away and a tiny box with a loose ring and a necklace.

"It's fine!" You insist, "I shouldn't pry into something private."

"It's not private."

"Of course it is, I'm sure you keep your exes' stuff for sentimental reasons."

Seungkwan furrows his brow, staring at you, "They're not from my exes."

"You don't have to lie."

"I mean it."

"Seungkwan–"

"I mean it!" He kneels in front of you, reaching into the drawer.

"This one, I got you when we started pretending in uni… I felt like I needed to get you something… Both to prove that we were together and as a thanks," He places the shiny pendant in your hand. "This one is from when… we started sleeping together… I thought I should get you a ring for y'know," He shrugs, placing a single ring next to the pendant in your palm.

Seungkwan reaches into the drawer, picking up the first velvet box, "This one I bought for your birthday after I came to Seoul but I never got around to giving it to you." It's a very delicate necklace and it looks a little more expensive than the others. "And then the same year, when I started seeing someone else and didn't even tell you, I thought I should get you something as an apology and… a parting gift."

In the fancier box is a pair of stud earrings with tiny pearl drops.

"And then we kept seeing each other… and years passed and I realised I liked you… I wanted to make it official but… I was terrified," He confesses, "I was terrified of the commitment, I was terrified of what would happen if it didn't work out… But I got us matching rings, that never saw the light of day, of course," He laughs, the type of laugh that hides truer feelings.

The third box contained the matching couple rings.

You're speechless.

"And finally… when you came into my apartment… you got me out of my terrible, sorry state, you stayed by my side… Always did, but… Anyway– I–You said you loved me," He stares into your eyes and you are filled with so much emotion, he is sincere, you can feel it. "And I realised I loved you, too."

From the way your legs turn into jelly at the very sound of those words, you are so thankful for being sat.

"So I bought these rings and I scheduled a meeting with my company to talk about my future wedding. That's when my old PR manager went batshit on how it would ruin my career and decided to fuck me over… And it took me months to fix everything and make sure that we wouldn't have any problems," He raises his head to look at you, "So I came to visit and you were pregnant and I was. So. Happy…" His voice trails off. "I never wanted to marry you faster than right then and there. But then, you know what happened."

"Are you… fucking serious?"

His big brown eyes that more often than not prove themselves to be the bane of your existence glance away from your face.

Seungkwan readies himself for the incoming flurry of teasing that should come.

But it doesn't.

And then he raises his head, only to see that your face has contorted into a very ugly frown as you try to will your tears back into your eyes.

"What?" His face softens immediately and he's on you the very next second, reaching for your hands.

"I can't believe it," You hiccup.

"What's wrong?"

You can barely formulate coherent sentences with the turmoil that clouds your brain.

Seungkwan liked you.

For much longer than you could even fathom, he cherished you and the whole time you just thought he maybe tolerated your presence for the sake of getting into your pants. And all those years of suppressing your stupid feelings had culminated in this: a drawer full of unopened jewelry and erased love.

You can't help the very self-deprecating thoughts that tell you: you should've been braver.

"Baby, what's wrong?" His voice is soft and loving and stupid.

"Don't call me baby!" You wail, throwing your arms around his neck in a very confusing turn of events.

He does comfort you with light taps to your back.

"All this time," You hiccup, "I liked you and you liked me back and I kept hiding it because I was stupid! I'm sorry I said I didn't want to marry you."

"No, you… You were right to protect yourself," he shushes your cries. "I never proved myself to be someone very… Relationship worthy."

"No!" You shake your head, "I should've just… told you."

"Look… I was a dumb kid… I was terrified of being real with my feelings once I realised I liked you… And the longer I waited, the harder it got."

You nod.

"When you said "I love you"… It just felt like everything was coming together, y'know?"

"I do! I do love you!"

He smiles, hands reaching to cup your face.

"I wanted to marry you, I wanted to marry you so bad! But I was scared! I was scared you were only marrying me because I got pregnant!"

Seungkwan reaches to wipe your tears away.

"I thought if we got married for the baby, you'd grow to resent us both…"

"I could never resent you… Or our daughter."

"Oh, please, how was I supposed to know?!"

He laughs, "I should've told you I loved you. I should've told you I loved you and I wanted to marry you out of love."

"Tell me you love me again," You plea.

"I love you."

You can barely contain the stupid smile that tugs at the corners of your lips.

"I love you so much, Kwannie. I have loved you for so long…"

Seungkwan adjusts himself, pushing you back into a sitting position. He returns to his kneeling position on the floor and clears his throat.

"Marry me?"

Your dumbfounded stare goes for a bit longer than you wished for, enough to make him nervous another rejection was coming. But you break out into the world's most beautiful smile while you happily shout.

"Yes!"

"Oh, thank God."

Maybe it took a bit longer than most for you to find each other. But in the end, you had your future husband, your perfect baby and soon a dreamy home.

Seungkwan would announce his nuptials and upcoming paternity and receive a lot of love from the public. Many saw it as a show of maturity and trustworthiness, which did end up helping his career. Speaking of, he did go on a very long break as soon as you entered your third trimester, present at every waking moment. Except for when he almost passed out when you went into labour.

Parenthood hadn't been quite a challenge, not when you had each other. Your daughter was the sweetest, quietest little baby and such a cuddlebug. She always greeted her mummy and daddy with that toothless grin and sweet giggles, which made it very hard to think of stopping at just one kid.

You would return to teaching, balancing your family and work life and Seungkwan would come back to the spotlight. You two settled into the routine easily, picking up where the other needed.

Although life was different from as it was when you were younger, it wouldn't be hard to make do when you had each other. The future never looked as bright.

Since the very beginning, it had always been you and him against the world.

And until the very end, so it will be.

[jaketsparrow]

Tending Part 1

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x reader

Word Count: 8.9K 

Preview: One night when your work crush Jake takes the main stage at the bar you work at, you both finally get the courage to take things to the next step. You finally get to see a side of him he hasn’t gotten to show you yet. The only thing that sours the excitement is when you wake up the next morning and he’s not there. 

Note from author: This is my first time writing something like this so I hope it's enjoyable! It’s definitely a slow burn, but I really like how it ended. There is room for more, so I’m open to suggestions :) 

MENTIONS OF/ TW: !Drunks3x, Oral (m/f! receiving) receiving, dirty talk, name calling, teasing/edging, explicit sexual content, *some* impact play, dom/sub, mature themes, unprotected sex, fingering (f! receiving), language, choking, safe words… Moral of the story it's filthy (imo). Sorry if i missed anything! 

MINORS DNI

“You know we shouldn’t do this,” he says while unbuttoning his pants. Jake wants it too. Maybe just as much as you did. 

The autumn air is rolling into the bedroom, slowly waking you with its crisp touch. You try to fight the sleep off, slowly coming to. You rub your legs up and down the silky satin sheets, trying to navigate and stretch each muscle through the tangled mess. Next is your arms, sluggishly moving up to wipe the smeared mascara further across your eyes. One last wipe and you’re finally awake enough to open your heavy eyelids. 

Still in a state of morning fog and confusion, you turn to your left and reach out to touch him; expecting him to be there- but he’s not there. Where did he go? He was so close to you last night, facing you, noses practically touching, breathing lightly, but still enough to feel the breeze of him on you. The sheets had been completely evacuated of him; the only thing remaining was a few long strands of his chestnut hair. Was he truly only expecting sex last night? Honestly, how could you even think that he would spend the whole night? You desperately wish that he did, especially after everything. 

You finally muster the strength to sit yourself up, swinging your body over the edge of the bed. The hangover doesn’t hit you like a truck, but instead slowly sweeps through your body reminding you of your late night. 

Shit how much did you drink? 

Your judgment was far too clouded, the steps had already started- the act already unfolding. And you sat there silent, unsure of why this would be a bad idea at all. 

Each movement out of bed increases the throbbing in your head. It takes a good five minutes before you can struggle over to the dresser and find the clothes for your shift. Each step and dressing needs long deep breaths. You push past the bedroom door and walk into the tiny apartment bathroom; the cold tile beneath your feet sobering your sleep. You trash the vanity looking for your toothpaste, but once you find it you don’t even want to use it. The taste of his salty skin still lingers in your mouth, almost tastes too good to let go of… But soon the taste of alcohol begins to join in, creeping up the back of your throat- and you know you have to wash it out before it's too late. 

He’s still only unbuttoned, waiting for you. You are in awe of his beauty, in awe of this talent he has to leave you speechless… You can clearly see the outline of his hard cock, begging to be freed from his pants. He runs his hands over the front of his jeans; twitching with excitement. 

The night is still flashing back to you, slowly. You’re not too hungover to remember, but it’s almost like your brain knows that if you saw it all at once, you’d combust. You spit the foam of the toothpaste into the running sink. The burn of last night’s alcohol sits on the brim of making an entrance, but you won’t let it. You didn’t want it to be your first morning after him to be this rough, but at least he wasn’t here to witness it all.

Your absence of words means he will not move further- unless you permit him. He walks over to you, lifting his hand to hold your chin in his palm. He steers you to look upwards at him. You gaze up at him. His soft brown eyes gazing back at you. The eyes you’ve looked at so many times, hoping they would look at you like this. Deep with lust, crazed with some primal need to taste us. I still can’t believe he wants this- he wants… you. 

Your zombie-like body glides through the apartment in search of the Tylenol bottle that still hasn’t found its permanent home. You find it at the bottom of your purse, remembering that you packed it there for this specific reason. You twist the medicine bottle open and shake out two oblong pills. You place the bottle back in your purse, grab a rogue half-filled water cup from the counter, and swallow the pills back. 

He brings his face closer to yours. Squeezing his hands around your jaw. 

“Are you sure you want this?” he asks. 

You nod your head slowly, showing him your approval. By now the tension is so thick. His lips are so close. I lean forward towards him, but he dodges your attempt. His lips move towards your ear, his hand moving up to hold the underside of your head, caressing it gently. You can feel all the hairs on your body stand up as his cheek touches yours- as skin meets with skin. 

He whispers, “I need you to say the words.” 

You let out a quiet whimper- melting like putty into his hands.  “Jake, please fuck me.”

All that movement already has you wiped and you have no choice but to settle down at the kitchen table. Your head slowly moves towards the aged wooden table, but your arms cross in front of you to catch your forehead before you hit it. You nestle into your arms, resting the side of your face across your bicep. You try to remember how it all even happened. Where did it even start? 

It’s your night off, but on Wednesday nights you still choose to go in. You usually get free drinks, especially if Jake is working. In fact, he’d probably shoot tequila with you once the manager heads into the back office. But as you walk in there, you don’t see him at the bar; it's your friend Mariella bartending. Granted if you were actually going in for free drinks Mariella would also probably give you them, but you know it wasn’t about the drinking at all. 

Ever since Jake started another job you started to see him less and less. You try to not let it bother you, but having a work crush is what makes work exciting. Trying to catch smiling glances with each other, sometimes working the bar together on a busy Saturday night and having to slide past one another… Like that one time, you thought maybe more than just his legs brushed over your ass. You really couldn’t tell if he thought of you though, he had a perplexing silence to him. Bartenders can be like that though, brooding, mysterious, only showing their fun sides to get better tips. 

On a night like this, you’d sit at the end of the bar and enjoy the live music that filled the bar. You decide you will continue this weekly ritual and you walk over to Mariella. She’s wiping down the bar with a wet rag, swiping up some sticky mess left behind by the previous patrons. She dumps the rag out of sight and turns to see you smiling at her. 

“Hi dear,” you say to her. 

She chuckles at you, “Hello dearest,” she says, “I’m guessing you didn’t come in looking for me, huh?”

You pout your lip and reach out for her hand. “Of course not, but you’re just as pleasant to see.”

She crosses her arms and scoffs at you. 

“What do you want?” 

“Whatever you can give to me,” You say, “without getting in trouble.”

She thinks about that for a moment, then turns to start making you a drink. You turn your back to her, resting your arms on the edge of the wooden bar. The bar isn’t as full as it is on a Saturday, but there's a steady crowd forming. Some boys take the stage and start assembling. Mics connect to stands, drumsticks are being pulled out of bags, but you can tell they’re not ready yet. You turn back to watch Mariella. 

She's just about finished, eyeing the other customers who start to crowd her. She grabs the icy glass and puts it down in front of you, not saying a word, not even looking. You eye the light amber drink, trying to guess what it is. You take a sip from the straw. Whiskey sour. Nice. 

You watch Mariella assemble drinks and pass them off to their new owners; her speed is impressive. You're so lost in her service, that you don’t notice the band behind you starting their set. 

Jake… On guitar? This must have been the other ‘job’ he started. You turn to look, slowly, trying not to make yourself noticeable. There he was, beginning to lightly strum the guitar. His hair sitting on his shoulders, a loose button-up- that hasn’t been buttoned on the top four buttons, dark wash jeans clutching onto his legs, and these chelsea boots that he pulled off more than you wanted to give him credit for. There he was. Playing the fucking guitar, and then looking at you. 

Shit. You fell asleep again at the kitchen table. A jolt goes through your body. Your shift! You run searching for your phone. It’s on the living room couch, lighting up at you. 12:15 PM. Shit. The hangover still buzzes through your head and body, but somehow you manage to grab everything and your purse and head out the door. 

The mustyness of the hallway stings your nose and you try to hold back your gagging. The front door is opened by a neighbor and you rush out past them, apologizing for your rudeness. You shuffle to your car, except it isn’t in the parking lot… Oh… Yeah.

The set is ending, the crowd is starting to die down, and you can see how tired the entire band is getting. Jake’s forehead glimmers with sweat as he finishes the last few chords of the song. He’s so fucking good. Like really fucking good. The drums come to a slow, heartbeat-like, crash. The lead singer addresses the crowd and the band waves goodnight. 

You become aware of your staring problem, and move down to the end of the bar, hiding in the corner, scared of what conversation may occur. He saw you staring at him, eyeing his body, glazing over his sexy… Wishing you could finish unbuttoning his shirt, and relieve him of those tightly fitting jeans. He was truly too fucking much. You hide your head in your second whiskey sour, quickly sipping, leaving only the last bit of watered-down ice & whiskey. You look around at the bar- anywhere but the stage. 

You’re completely zoning out, tapping your fingers against the sticky bar, when you feel a presence walk up behind you. You can feel the nerves coming through, your heartbeat pounding in your chest… You have to remind yourself to breathe. 

His arm reaches past you for your drink. He takes the straw, throws it on the bar and shoots back the remainder of your watered-down cocktail. He puts the glass back down in front of you and occupies the stool next to yours. He doesn’t turn to look at you but instead waves to Mariella, and puts up two fingers. She understands his gestures and begins making the drinks. Your heart is racing faster now. You sit there frozen, trying to calm yourself. You don’t even know if he’s interested in you. But all you can think about is pressing your face up against his, violating his mouth with yours, sitting on his lap, and feeling his cock pressed up against your pussy... Enough. 

Your Uber pulls through the bar’s parking lot, which is in desperate need of paving. The car bounces up and down the potholes until you reach the employee parking in the back. The rollercoaster of the parking lot puts you at risk of letting that alcohol finally release itself from your throat. You swallow. Hard. 

You thank the driver, holding back anything else other than words trying to come out, grab your purse, and head into the back door. Immediately after you close the steel door, your manager Chris is there yapping your ear off. You start to prepare with your apron and supplies, half-listening to his scolding.

“You had the audacity to come in here last night, and drink nearly half a bottle of whiskey…” Tuning him out has become easy, but his shrieks test your already weak limits, “... You show up 45 minutes late! Now you're going to have to share your tips with Jake.”

You stop in your tracks and turn to him, “...What?”

“Are you even fuckin’ listening?” You can see his expression grow with frustration, “You weren’t here to open, I called Jake and he started you off by taking orders at the bar. Go take over the dining for him- and share your fucking tips with him!”

Fuck. 

You're on your third round, while Jake is mending to his first. It's no longer the alcohol making you feel buzzed, it's him. He's smiling and laughing, telling you how happy he was that he could play good music for the bar- half sarcastic and half serious. You're loosening up,  laughing with him, playing around and trying to give him your best doe eyes. Your legs are turned to face him, crossed, trying to hold in the slick that's starting between your thighs. Your leg brushes his slightly, tempted to creep further. 

“Did you like the set?” He asks. 

“Hell yeah!” Why did you say that?

“I thought you might not be able to hear the music through your laser focus on my dick,” he states. You stop. What did he say? I’m perplexed by his question. Did you imagine this? Should you have passed on this third round? “C’mon, you didn’t think you were being subtle did you?” 

You're trying to form words, but you keep stuttering and stumbling through the words. Your thoughts are spinning like a Rolodex trying to find the right response. You eventually land on, “I was just surprised to see you out of your usual jeans and work shirt… and in those boots!” 

“Sure…” He laughs and pats your leg, “It was nice to see a familiar face in the crowd,”

He turns to smirk at you. His lips are full. Slick with the whiskey sour. They’re curled up to the left side of his face. He starts to blush and you notice your once again staring for too long. He turns to look out to the crowd. You break your gaze for a moment to look at your drink, only to slowly glance back at him, craning your neck slightly. 

His profile is fucking stunning. His eyes are deep, and he has this tired yet excited look in his eye. He has this gorgeous round face that still somehow has sharp accentuated features. He’s still wearing that half smile and pretending not to notice you peering at him. You’re so close to him now, smelling the distinct smell of sweat and cologne.  What is that smell? Sandalwood? Vanilla? It doesn't matter. At least you're close enough to him to even be breathing him in. 

You stop and realize his hand still hasn’t left your leg. The pat has turned into a hold right above the knee. This has to mean something. Your legs are still crossed, holding in what so desperately wants to be released. You look back at him, trying your best to look calm and not completely hopeless. His hair is loose from the usual low bun he sports behind the bar. You can’t believe how long it is. Some of the loose strands of hair are still stuck to his glossy forehead. You give in to impulse and swipe the clung pieces from the sweat. Your hand grazing the edges of his face, tucking the hair with the rest. 

Your adventurous hand wants to linger. You are definitely overstepping and begin to pull away. He turns to face you, his face falling into your palm. You can't help but smile softly. You can see him entirely now, his eyes, his stupid perfect nose with its petite ring, the hair that frames his face perfectly, those thick eyebrows… ugh. You pull your hand away, but his hand meets yours on its return to your lap. Holding it gently, melting you into the wooden stool. 

“Hi sunshine,” he says to you in an entirely different voice than before. It's sultry, velvety… sexy. 

“Hi,” You reply, feeling a rush of shyness wash over you, still unsure what the fuck is even happening. 

There is no real lunch rush at this bar. Fleet’s has been around for quite some time and the appeal of it has faded away almost completely. Anyone who shows up before 6 has been coming here for the past 30 years and are by far the easiest customers I could have. They tip well for people who seemingly don’t work on a Thursday, and don’t bother you except for a drink every 20 minutes. 

Jake and you don't communicate during the first half of this shift, except for the glances we keep giving each other when you pick up orders at the end of the bar. You don’t know what to say to him. You don’t want to come across as desperate to him. You don’t even know what last night means. “You know we shouldn’t do this” keeps echoing in your brain. Why shouldn’t we have?

Maybe today is an example of why we shouldn’t have. 

Somehow you’ve ended up in his car. Maybe he finds your awkwardness charming. Or maybe he knows 3 whiskey sours is enough whiskey sours that you shouldn’t be driving yourself home. 

The car is an old convertible that has clearly been on its last ride for years. You’re still feeling unsure from the interaction only moments before. You want to be close to him, but you’re still fighting that desperation that's looming deep in you. 

His hair is cascading behind him, moving in unison with the wind. It's fucking magical. No strands are falling into his face, it's all just flowing in one swift sweep behind him. Classical rock is playing through the radio, echoing into the backstreets that lead to your apartment. Although he’s right it's really hard to focus on the music when all you can think about is a bulge sitting in his lap. 

He turns to smile at you; a slight grin of enjoyment. He switches his hands on the leather steering wheel, so he can reach over to touch you.  He reaches his hand over the center console and grabs your inner thigh. Oh my god, he wants you too. He slowly takes his calloused hands up and down your thigh. Fuck. How does he know that's your favorite? 

You haven’t spoken a word in the ride other than giving him your address. You want to say more, but you don’t want to spoil the moment and say something stupid again. He senses your shyness, and your apprehension, and cuts the tension in the air. 

“If you’re wondering if I’m into you,” he says, letting the words hang in the air for a moment, “Of course I fucking am.” 

Your heart is practically bursting through your chest. You get lost in the words again, but somehow manage some bratty response, “Of course you are,” you reply. 

He gawks at you, sarcastically, knowing you're trying to be funny with him. You smile and bury your face into your shoulder. You’ve never been this shy with men before, in fact, you’ve always led the flirting and seduction. But here you are now, letting him take control of you like you're already his. You don’t mind though; you enjoy this chase. 

You push the door of the back hallway open and keep your head down. Only three tables are occupied on the dining side, you walk over to them to inform them you would be taking over for Jake. 

You finish introducing yourself to the third table and finally turn your head to the bar. Jake’s doing inventory on the bar, his usual regular sitting in the corner seat, reading the paper. He turns away from the bottles to write something down and looks up at you. Eyes eager, but full of confusion. 

You’re half drunk fumbling with the keys trying to fit the metal into the lock. He hasn’t revealed too much of his excitement yet. He hasn’t even kissed you yet. But you can feel a look of admiration happening behind you. You finally get the key in and unlock the door to the silent apartment. It’s a completely different vibe than the bar. Silent. Intimate. You walk in and awkwardly place your hands in your pocket and spin to see his reaction. 

“Home sweet home!” You say, hands still in their awkward pocket position behind you. 

You fight off the embarrassment of it not being completely spotless the first time he sees it. He closes the door behind him and slowly moves towards you. “Why is it exactly how I imagined it would be?” 

You giggle. “I don’t know, I guess my personality picked all my decor,”

He smiles looking around the kitchen and peering into the living room. He’s still moving closer to you as you stand there, waiting for his next move. 

“Do you have anything to drink?” He asks, “Not a good host so far, you haven’t offered me anything,” He's playing with you. 

Flustered, you release your hands from your pockets and walk over to the silver bar cart that sits between the kitchen and the living room. You reach your hands towards the cart, “Pick your poison, sir,”

“Ooh sir,” he purrs, “I like that.”

The heat of the moment is slowly writhing through you, warming your face, and... As much as you don’t want to admit it yet, pussy. He comes over to stand next to you. He places his arm over the small of your back. You try to choke down that distraught moan that wants to escape your lips. He takes his other hand to tilt and move around the bottles, inspecting the labels before deciding on whiskey.

“More?” You ask. 

“Sunshine, there's never too much whiskey,” he replies in that velvet tone again. 

He removes his hand from your waist. You go to reach for a glass, but before you can, you see he’s already taken the liberty of suckling straight from the bottle. He lets out a cool ahh. 

“You want some?” He asks, even though it's yours and of course you want it. You nod in response. “Open”

Confused, you half open your mouth, expecting him to pour some in, but he doesn't. He takes another swig himself and pushes himself up against you. He releases the amber liquid into your mouth, warm from its hold. He’s so fucking… Ooh shit, that burns. The whiskey falls back down into your belly. You swallow and he is pleased with himself. Some of the whiskey is dribbled around your mouth, and he takes the lead in removing it. 

He caresses your face, moving the alcohol away from your lips. You’re on the brink of release. Jumping off into the deep end. He pushes himself closer to your hips. And you can feel him. His cock slowly grinds further and further towards you. You're practically ready for him to take you right there. He puts the bottle back on the cart and turns his full attention to you. The eye contact is intense and full of excited uncertainty. He moves his hand up your back to cradle your neck. Neither of us can wait one more second. 

Around three the bar starts to lose some of the action. The lack of the customers draws you to continue staring at him more and more. Why do you have this obscene staring problem? You want him to be thinking of you just as much as you are of him, but you seriously doubt it. 

You finish cleaning up the tables in the dining room and sit down to restock the salt and pepper shakers, turning yourself away from him. You make it halfway through the side work before you feel it again. His presence hovering over you. It takes all of your might not to turn and look into those brown eyes again. But you want to, you really really want to see him again. All of him. 

His hand pulls you into his face and you become one. Lips touching so softly, unready for the ferality that was about to occur. He pulls you further into him. His tongue beckons for yours and you allow the dance. Faces smashing together, exploring each other's lips. You can taste the whiskey on him, and for some reason, it tastes so much better in his mouth than yours. He walks both of you slowly, and pushes up against the wall. 

You relinquish your self-control and submit to him, reaching up to explore the rest of his body. Hands combing through hair, moving up and down his back, feeling the muscles and unexplored areas. His hand moves down to your ass, groping it gently at first but getting more ferocious with each passing moment. 

You’re drinking him up, getting lost in whose body is whose. His wet warm kisses are leaving you desperate, wanting it all. While still kissing you, he leans down to grab under your knees and lift you, your legs wrapped around his torso. He's caressing your ass, and gently tugging at the scalp of your hair. Fuck this is everything you’ve been wanting for the months you’ve been working together. All that pent-up desire is finally happening right in front of you. He walks you a few steps to the couch and sits; leaving you in his lap. 

His cock is desperate to meet your pussy, you can feel it practically bursting through his jeans. But you know he won’t let you have that just yet. He’s no longer being gentle with you, it’s him leading, and you’re doing everything he wants. His cock feels huge under you, and he can sense your excitement for it. Jake grabs your hips and steers you up and down his cock. You didn’t realize before but you're both moaning. Not quiet whimpers, but pornographic hums between breaths. He shifts your body below him, swiftly taking dominance over you. The way he moves you so effortlessly is fucking hot. 

You can feel his cock now, it's pressing between your legs, and you're practically purring for it. He lifts his arm and gifts your neck with his hands. You pull away. 

He looks at you, perplexed. 

It’s not that you didn’t like it, you just maybe didn’t expect it. You’ve never done that before. And just as it all started- it stops. He pulls his hand away and his dominance is shoved back down. He stands up and slowly steps away from you. Brushes through his hair, pushing it back out of his face… He’s coming into some form of clarity.  

“Wait!” You call out to him, “Come back,” urging him to stay in the moment with you. 

He inches a step closer to you and places his hand on your shoulder. He says your name. You choose to continue playing the silent game. Are you angry at him? Maybe. That feeling of insecurity has been bubbling in you all day, but you have tried to ignore it. Why didn’t he stay? Why didn’t he say anything before he left? 

“Alright, whatever petty shit this is- it isn’t happening,” he says, intensely this time. He grabs your arm and pulls you from your chair, forcing you to turn to face him. His strength and dominance stuns you. He has this juxtaposed look of sincerity and seriousness to him. He’s hard to read in this state. “Great now that I have your attention, we have to talk.”

He turns to look back at you. His eyes are bare of emotion. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, “I just haven’t been… you know... choked… before… ” your voice trails off. 

“Oh,” He says, turning himself fully to you. Is there a hint of embarrassment in his voice?

“Please, I…” You hesitate, nervous to reveal too much. 

“Please what?” He's smirking again. Still standing looking across to you. 

The shyness comes back to you, you feel unsure of being this vulnerable with him, “I just have been thinking about this for a while,”

He looks down at his still-hard cock and rubs it softly, “Yeah me too…” The tension is building again, but you’re back to square one. 

“I think we should…” Fuck! Say it! Stop sounding so unsure. 

“You know we shouldn’t do this,” he says, while unbuttoning his pants. He wants it too. Maybe just as much as you did. 

Your judgment was far too clouded, the steps had already started- the act already unfolding. And you sat there silent, unsure of why this would be a bad idea at all. 

He’s still only unbuttoned, waiting for you. You are in complete awe of his beauty, in awe of this talent he has to leave you speechless… You can see the outline of his hard cock, begging to be freed from his pants. He runs his hands over the front of his jeans; twitching with excitement. 

Your absence of words means he will not move further- unless you permit him. He walks back over to you, lifting his hand to hold your chin in his palm. He steers you to look upwards at him. You gaze up at him. His soft brown eyes gaze back at you. The eyes you’ve looked at so many times, hoping they would look at you like this. Deep with lust, crazed with some primal need to taste us. You still can’t believe he wants this- he wants… you. 

He brings his face closer to yours. Squeezing his hands around your jaw. 

“Are you sure you want this?” he asks. 

You nod your head slowly, showing him your approval. By now the tension is so thick. His lips are so close. I lean forward towards him, but he dodges your attempt. His lips move towards your ear, his hand moving up to hold the underside of your head, caressing it gently. You can feel all the hairs on your body stand up as his cheek touches yours- as skin meets with skin. 

He whispers, “I need you to say the words.” 

You let out a quiet whimper- melting like putty into his hands.  “Jake, please fuck me.”

“That's my girl,” 

Everything had resumed right at the pace where it left off. He leans back over you, continuing to kiss you. He grabs your outer thigh and pulls you closer into him. The primal need for him is growing inside, just like the wetness inside of your pants. He reaches his hand up your shirt to find your bra, reaching under the wire and firmly grasping your breast. Just this simple act of touching is sending you into the deep end.

“I have to see these,” he says playing with you, “You won’t believe how many shifts I spent trying to guess what they look like,”

He lifts you to remove your shirt. Everything moving faster now. With one swipe of his hand, your bra detaches and falls from your body. He reveals your nude torso and a fire lights in his eyes. 

“Fuck.” Now the desperation is on his end. His dreams are coming true. “They’re even better…”

You giggle at his admiration for your tits. His hand moves up to caress your breast, moving his fingers to the bud of your nipple. He brushes over it, back and forth, hardening it between under his thumb. You sigh a moan. He can’t tease either of you for much longer and takes the initiative, putting your breast into your mouth. Swiping his tongue over your already sensitive nipple. 

“Mmmm Jake,” You moan to him.  

He’s moaning too, excited to have you in his mouth. He releases your breast and starts kissing up your chest back to your mouth. The kissing is getting sloppier, no one is focused on precision or neatness anymore. You return the favor of pleasure by reaching into his unbuttoned pants. You run your hands over his tight boxer briefs. His cock is huge. Thick. Jumping at your touch. He moans loudly through breaths. You want to feel him, you want to touch his skin. No, no, it's not just want; it's need. You reach into his pants to grab his bare cock. 

He stops in his tracks and lifts his head to meet your eyes. He evidently wasn’t expecting you to be so forward. 

He lets out a small chuckle through his labored moans. “You little whore, you can’t wait could you?”

The name. Another thing you weren’t used to, but you liked it. The name drips through your ears, sending goosebumps down your spine. You wanted to be his whore. You liked being that. 

He’s starting to move back down to your neglected breast, which inevitably pushes his cock out of your reach. He caresses the nipple in swirling patterns. He hasn’t even reached where you want him most, but still he manages to send shock waves through your body. No man has ever made you feel this way.

 He’s not attached to your breast for long, he has a plan. He moves down your torso, kissing the path between your breasts, down your torso, pushing himself backward, down to your…

“Not yet,” He says, breaking himself from his path, “Be patient.”

He kisses the band above your jeans. Oh, please take them off. You’re so ready. You’ve been soaked for nearly the entire night. You look down at him, admiring the beauty and his devotion of care. You help sweep the hair out of his face, mostly to tell him it's okay to keep going, but also so you can get a better look. He unbuttons your pants and looks back up at you, satisfied with the choices he's making. The anticipation is killing you. He yanks at your jeans, pulling them off in 3 swift pulls. You are thankful you chose to wear that sexy black thong, it's almost like you knew he’d be the one taking them off of you tonight. 

“Oh baby, these are almost too good to take off,” He says, playing with you, “My little slut was ready for me huh?” 

You whimper in excitement. He knows he has you at his will. He runs his hands across your abdomen, gently caressing you, dancing across your needing clit. He chooses not to take off the underwear just yet. Instead, he's kissing the areas around it, your thighs, pubic bone, and then planting one final kiss on your aching pussy. He stops to admire your body, you can see the lust in his eyes. 

“Mmm” he moans, “I need to know what you taste like,”

He places his thumb directly over your clit, circling it, soft with his touch, but you want him to continue further. 

“Do you want me to eat you out?” He asks. 

You nod, at a loss for words again. 

“I need you to say it,” 

“Yes.” You respond, half conscious in a daze of nervousness and arousal.

He smirks at you. You know that teasing look already, “You don’t sound like you really want it,” he jokes, “Beg for me, baby.”

“Please Jake,” It's not hard for you to find the desperation, “Please sir, please… please”

Your groveling is enough for him to start. He pulls your thong to the side and dives into your cunt. He's exploring you with his tongue, eager to lick every inch of you. You let out a wild gasping moan. He’s better than you’d imagined. 

“Fuck baby… you’re so fucking wet,” 

“I’ve been wet… Thinking about you all night,” you choke out between gasps. 

He starts lapping at your clit and moaning wild animalistic noises. If anyone else were listening you’d both be ashamed of the noises you're making. He’s taking you in, practically hungry for your pussy. He looks amazing while doing it too, the determination and precision he has to make you feel fucking amazing. 

Before you even realize what's happening, he has his middle digit sliding into you, curling up, grazing your g-spot. “Oh fuck.. Oh… Jake,” You’re in agony. You know now that what they say about guitar players is true. He makes you feel so good. You’re getting so close already. 

“You better come for me,” 

Your breaths are heaving, inching towards orgasm. The moans signal to him that he's reached the perfect rhythm. You reach up again to pull the hair out of his face, allowing you to see how gorgeous he looks pleasuring you. His fingers and tongue swirling and stroking your pussy. He inserts another finger and you can barely hang on anymore. You whine with him, “Yes…” He's stroking all of the sensitive spots, pulling you closer to finishing. 

“Come for me baby,” he says, while increasing his speed. Tonight you have become his instrument, and he intends on playing with you. “I’m not asking you, I’m telling you.”

His dominance is a new side that you are excited to explore. He’s comforting you with his control. His hair becomes entwined further in your fingers, being pulled by your tight fist. He doesn’t seem to mind, he knows that means he’s pushing you. A few more swift strokes of him and your unraveling. Releasing yourself into his fingers. The walls of your pussy tightly squeezing onto his fingers. You let out an exhausted moan. 

He reaches his tongue down to taste you. 

“Oh fuck,” he says, barely inches from your cunt, “I wish I could’ve tasted this sooner…”

You're still twitching with the overstimulation he caused your body. Your clit pulsing between your legs. But he wasn’t done pushing you yet. He continues to explore you with your tongue. Your legs are shaking so hard with each move he makes. It’s almost too much to handle. 

You whine, “Please Jake.. Sir, please…” 

His last move is his most devious. He puts his tongue at the bottom of your cunt and slowly licks forward to your clit. He looks directly into your eyes as he makes his last flick over your clit. He laughs softly, obviously pleased with how he’s already sent you so far. 

You look up to find him already undressing himself, his shirt is off, revealing his soft, slender figure. He’s so tan, and has this slight muscular build… Absolute perfection. You move your eyes down his body to see his cock in his hand. Wrapping his hands around himself. Wow. It's finally been revealed from his pants and it looks even better than it felt when you were grinding on him. He’s already wet with precum, sliding his hands up and down his shaft.  He sputters out a stream of spit to lubricate himself. Fuck that was so smooth. He licks your come off of his lips. His mouth is slightly agape, admiring your body through heavy eyes. 

“Wow,” Is the only word that you can mutter. You’re shocked at how vulnerable he’s made you. You’ve already been in his grasp all night, but feeling him for real was just too satisfying; and this was just the start. 

“You like it?” He asks, obviously proud of his body. 

You lean forward to take it from him. It's glistened with his spit, and you want to taste it. You slide your hand up and down the shaft, and can see his muscles tightening in response. “It's fucking gorgeous.”

“Do you want to suck it for me?” He asks you as if you weren’t already heading there. He’s whining, practically begging for his turn like you begged for yours, “You want my cock in your mouth? Huh?... Does my little whore want me to fill her mouth?”

You look up at him. His dominance is intoxicating. “Yes,” you respond.

“Take it like a good girl, okay?”

He grabs the nape of your neck and pulls your face to him. He envelopes your mouth. Holding back a gag and taking him as far as you can. He’s too big to fit entirely, so you use your hand at the base of the shaft to cover what can’t be swallowed. Using your hand as a guide; sliding up and down. 

“Fuck-” You can feel him tensing in your mouth. His cock is jumping inside you, excited to be here. “Yeah… Keep doing that.” 

You're happy it's your turn to show him how good you can make him feel. At first, you try to hold back the gagging noises that are coming out, but he keeps pushing your head further, signaling he wants to hear them. The noises are truly pornographic and quite honestly might turn you on as much as it turns him on. You find your rhythm and start to move faster, taking him in as he guides your head around him. You place your hand on him to brace yourself as you take him in. You can practically feel the vibrations of his moans echo through. 

“You’re too good at this,” he whispers, “You’re gonna make me come already.”

He balls your hair into his hands and pulls you away. Now only a stream of spit connects your mouth to his cock. 

“You’ve been such a good girl for me,” He lowers himself so he can look down on you, “Do you think you deserve my cock now?”

You already know the right words to say, “Yes sir,”

His hand is on your lower back, something that would have seemed sweet the night before, but now he’s practically pushing you into the hallway. He’s moving you toward the back office. It's empty so your manager must have stepped out for his usual 30-minute smoke break in the parking lot. You stand in the doorway, blocking the situation from moving forward. Plus, there's barely any room in there amongst the invoices and your manager's shit. 

He gives you one last shove into the office and you turn to face him, offended by his man-handling, crossing your arms to show your distaste. 

“What?!” You say in an aggressive tone.

“What, me?” He asks, matching your aggression

“I have work to do out there!”

“C’mon really? Filling salt & pepper shakers?”

“...Yes.” 

 “What's going on out there? Why are you being weird?!” 

You throw your hands up in the air. His question snaps you into reality and your insecurities are coming to light. The hangover that you thought was lost is trying to resurface in your anxiety. “I don’t know.” 

He drops his head, repeating your name in a slow painful voice. “What?! Did I do something?” 

You pause. Did he not think of anything this morning when he left? Were you making a big deal of waking up alone? You decide to continue with the pettiness. “You did absolutely nothing,” which in your mind is true. He didn’t do the things you thought he should have done. Like maybe say goodbye or explain his absence. 

“Nothing doesn’t mean nothing,” 

Your frustration is growing, “What is even going on?” You reach your hands out to gesture “... What is this?”

He scoffs at you and laughs. “I knew we shouldn’t have done anything,” he turns to open the door.

He's pleased that you’ve learned his new name so easily. God he looks so good from this angle.

“It will be all yours baby,” he says, pulling your hair along with the rest of you further back. He moves his face to your neck, gently marking his lips on you, “On one condition.”

A condition? What does that even mean? 

“Since you're new to what I like,” he says between planting sloppy kisses, moving closer to your ear, “We’re going to use safe words, okay?” Safe words. Like that BDSM stuff? “Nothing to worry about, but I don’t want to scare either of us anymore, okay?”

You nod in response

He moves his hands up your body now, tracing your skin with his fingers, “Just like a stoplight, okay baby?” You think you know what he means, but he still explains it to you, “Red means stop, yellow means you want to slow down or you want time, and green…”

Oh you know what green means, “Green means you really fucking want it.” 

He pulls back slowly to smile at you, “Good girl,” the praise is fucking killing you, “I’m going to fucking rail you now, okay?”

You are drenched with excitement. He reaches under you and across your back, using his strength to flip you onto your stomach. His hand now across your midsection. You can hear him starting to play with himself again. He reaches back up to your neck.

“Green?” 

“Fucking green,” you reply, excited to start this journey with him. 

He grabs the sides of your neck, and pulls you into him. The tip of his cock breaches you. Fuck. 

“Fuck…” He moans. 

He starts slow rhythmic movements, not allowing you to feel him in full yet. He uses his spare hand to smack your ass. Hard. He’s dangerous, and you like it. He reaches over your ass to grab your hip, his fingers holding tightly onto you. In one quick thrust he presents all of himself to your tight pussy. Fuck. You were unprepared for him. His cock pressing itself into your cervix. It’s twitching inside you, and you know he likes what he feels. 

“Does my little slut like feeling all of me?” 

Oh yes she does. But you are again at a loss of words. His mounting is emptying your brain with each pump of his cock. You wildly moan, voicing your excitement the best you can. 

He leans down next to your ear, “Words baby, I wanna hear you,” He slows his movements, “I want to hear how much my slut likes my cock. I want to hear you when I fuck you,”

He stops moving entirely, waiting for your response, “I fucking love your cock sir.”

“Good girl.”

He resumes his thrusting. He releases his hold from your neck so he can use both of his hands to force you closer to him. His hands forming bruising holds on your hips. The noises that your bodies make when they smack together is fucking filthy. Your cunt is tightening around his mass, unable to bear his pounding. He’s pushing you into a realm of pleasure no man has ever been able to bring you to. Any inhibitions that were holding you together are being released. Months worth of sexual tension coming to fruition

He reaches his arm back under you to find your clit. You’ve lubricated it quite nicely, thanks to his help. You know what he's gearing up for. He’s just barely grazing the surface, giving you nothing but everything all at once. 

“Beg for it,” he demands. One hard slap raps across your ass.

You’re not even sure how you would be able to function if he made you come again. Scared and excited you reply, “Please,” He’s railing you harder now, and you can’t help but let out a yelp, “Oh please Jake- sir… Please… I want to come.”

He uses his free hand to press down on the back of your head, and your face into the cloth couch; bracing himself for a deeper pounding. Garbled moans escape your mouth. His other hand presses into your clit, circling it, coaxing it into release. He makes it too easy. Your pussy reacts, sending him into utter euphoria. Forcing his body to let out soft pleasurable moans. 

“Mmmm I’m not sure if you deserve to come yet…” he says. 

Of course I do. I’ve been so good. “Please, please,” you're groveling now, “I want your cock covered in my come.”

Those words were enough to release you from any doubts he had. He’s grunting your name now, trying to hold himself back from pleasure. “You’re such a good girl for me,” He pulls your hair up towards him, your body moving like a rag doll. “Come all over my cock baby,”

A few more strokes of your clit and you release onto him. The moans you both voice are deep, passionate… fulfilling. You can feel him start to fill you with his warmth. Both of your excitement mixing deep inside you. Your legs are shaking already from the overstimulation, and you can’t stop your body from the twitching. He's still freeing himself, his cock pulsing. He unhands your hair and kisses your neck softly. He slowly glides himself out from your full cunt. Both of you moan with overstimulation and satisfaction.

He turns you over and lays you back down in your original position. Venturing below to the mess that's between your legs. He tastes you softly, trying to be careful of your already exhausted pussy. His tongue feels smooth and refreshing, almost like he's trying to heal the well-worth it damage. 

He removes himself from you and leans forward to meet your mouth. His face is glistening with your- our come. He kisses you, making sure you taste exactly what he just did. He kisses you only for a few moments, leaving you wanting more of this gentle Jake. 

“Don’t forget what we taste like, okay?” He smiles. 

He pulls away from you, and reaches for his boxer briefs. He slips them back and falls backward onto the couch with exhaustion. He gently guides you to his chest, laying you down on him. You’re still in an utter state of shock, unsure how you were deserving of all of this treatment. You try to slow your breathing and cool your body down. You feel fucking amazing. 

“Jake, stop!” you yell to him, scared he might actually leave. His hand is on the knob but he's not turning it.

“Why didn’t you stay?” You finally asked it. 

“I actually may need help getting to bed tonight,” You say, looking up at him, “Can you take me?”

He laughs, you’re undoubtedly stroking his ego, but maybe a walk to the bed means laying in bed… Together. You’re scared he might not want to go. He gently brushes the hair out of your face and holds you in his hand. 

“Of course sunshine,” he replies. 

He's gently guiding you past the hallway and into the bedroom. Any other day you’d be slightly ashamed of the state your room is in, but you’ve already been so vulnerable with him that you forget to care

He turns to you, “You’re mad I didn’t stay?”. 

“Yeah, I just thought that meant that you didn't…”

He steps back over to you and grabs your shoulders gently, almost lovingly, “Whoa whoa, you think because I didn’t stay, that I didn’t absolutely fucking love your pussy?”

He helps lift you into your bed, and turns to head towards the door. 

“You can stay,” You call out to him. Hoping he’ll accept your offer. He turns to you, wearing his classic smirk beneath the loose frayed hairs surrounding his face. You pat the empty spot next to your bed. “I promise my bed will feel so nice after all your hard work,”

He accepts your invite and walks slowly over to the bed. You both giggle. How can this actually all have just happened? The thought of it is utterly ridiculous. 

His vulgar words are melting you, just like they did the previous night. “Well…I said you could stay… And I just thought you would… You know… Stay?” 

“I just didn’t want to overstep, or take it too fast,” He replies, “I didn’t want to do too much too fast… I kinda like the chase of it all.”

He pulls himself into the sheets. Pulling you over towards him, slipping your head underneath his arm, and pulling your waist towards his. He runs his fingers through your hair, and you place your hand on his chest, feeling the faint beats of his heart. You’re closer than you’ve ever been with him. Experiencing a different moment of intimacy. 

He closes his heavy eyes. He worked so hard. He devoted himself to you tonight. You look up at him through your own sleepy eyes. His face is even more beautiful in its resting position, soft and still slightly damp from the act. You reach up to pet his cheek. He reacts to your touch with a smile. 

“Goodnight little slut,” He jokes. 

You tap his cheek with a playful slap. “Oh shut up.”

“Wait, so…” Every thought you had assumed was incorrect. You’re trying to reorganize yourself. “Does that mean?”

“Does that mean that I want to fuck you again?” He squeezes your arms harder, “Yes… But you have to be patient with all of the other stuff, okay?”

You’re embarrassed now of how petty you were acting. He didn’t deserve the cold shoulder, but that doesn’t mean you won't let go of your bratty attitude, “Hmm. I’m not sure if that's worth it…” You laugh letting him know you’re not serious in the slightest. He reaches up your back and holds the nape of your neck. His demeanor is changing into the dominant figure he was previously. 

“Shut up.”

He leans in to kiss you, holding you in his hand firmly. The kiss is absolving both of your behavior, it's a fresh bandaid over a minor cut. You accept his embrace and return your tongue into his mouth. God you could do this forever. 

If you read this far- THANK YOU! :)

Tending Part 2

[fanfictionalraven]

Reno - After

Title: Reno - After

Summary: The events leading up to and following Dean being taken to Hell.

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer, Reader’s Father, John Winchester (mentioned)

Word Count: 3,552

Warnings: Alcoholism, mentions of suicide

Author’s Note: This story was originally posted by myself under the account Winchestersgirl92. It was published in 2017.

Read Reno - Before here.

Middle of nowhere, Tennessee. A dark, deserted intersection between some cotton fields. You bury the box you’d brought with you in a shallow hole right in the middle of the crossroads and wait. It doesn’t take long before the wind shifts and you can feel it standing behind you.

“Can I help you, little lady?” A man with a thick Southern drawl asks as you turn to face him. He blinks and his eyes flash red as you swallow thickly.

“I wanna make a deal. Hear you’re the one to talk to,” you say, trying to keep your voice from quivering. Demons weren’t your expertise. He smirks slightly as his eyes run over you.

“I’m sure we can work something out. What’s your little heart’s desire?” He asks. Tears well up in your eyes as you speak.

“Save the man I love,” you tell him simply. The demon lets out a dark chuckle as he starts to walk around you slowly. “I don’t even need ten years. Save him and you can take me right here, right now.”

“How noble. You realize what that means, right? Eternal damnation. Everlasting suffering and torture,” he says, stopping dead in front of you. You have to force yourself not to flinch back from the closeness. “All for some man?”

“He’s not just some man,” you say. Looking you over one more time, he shrugs.

“His name?” He asks. You frown and shake your head.

“Do we have a deal?” You ask. He cocks an eyebrow at you and you curse yourself internally. Now you’d peaked his interest in the worst possible way.

“Name first, Sweetheart,” he says. You set your jaw and cross your arms.

“Do we have a deal?” You ask again. The demon stares at you intently and his eyes flash red once again.

“Winchester,” he says, gauging your reaction. You try to keep your face under control but Dean always said you had a crap poker face. The demon smirks and shakes his head, taking a step back. “Sorry. Can’t undo that one. Everyone downstairs is pretty excited to be getting their hands on his soul.” You pull your gun and the demon laughs, shaking his head. “You know that ain’t gonna work.”

“No. But it can’t feel good,” you tell him before squeezing the trigger. You fire three shots into his chest, forcing him to take a few steps backwards. The demon grunts then starts to laugh. He moves to take a step before he’s stopped by an invisible force.

“What did you do??” He snarls. Smirking, you step closer to him then drag your foot across the dirt in front of him revealing a mat with a devil’s trap painted on it underneath his feet. He lets out an animal growl as you turn and walk towards your car.

One month, Y/N.

Y/N please answer me. He’s got two weeks.

You’re gonna regret it if you don’t see him and you know it. One week. We’ll be at Bobby’s. Please.

Stop ignoring me, Y/N. We’ve got a lead on Lilith and we’re going. I know he wants you there. Tomorrow’s his last day.

You stare at the latest text from Sam. The last few months, you’d spent in denial. It wasn’t really going to happen. Sam and Bobby were going to be sure of that. They were going to find a way to get Dean out of deal even if you couldn’t. But the months passed and based on the ignored texts and missed calls, Dean was really about to be dragged to Hell. They had one last shot but Sam didn’t exactly sound hopeful. You were a day’s drive from Sioux Falls. You couldn’t be sure if you were going to even make it in time but, damn it, you had to try.

You race from your motel room, not even bothering to check out. The drive is long and laborious as you push the old Mustang to its limits. You’re running on pure adrenaline and the thought of seeing Dean again. The engine seems to breathe a sigh of relief when you finally cut it off in Bobby’s driveway. The Impala and Bobby’s truck are both sitting there as well. Maybe you had made it in time.

The distance between Bobby’s front door and your car seems like miles as you run up towards the porch. You don’t even bother to knock, barreling into the house. It’s quiet inside as you round the corner, through the kitchen and into the study. Bobby and Sam look up at you, momentarily startled. You watch as both of their faces fall. They look away, unable to meet your eyes.

You were too late.

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

A bender. That’s how you’d spent the last 15 months. Random motel rooms across the country, hitting each bar in town. You’d avoided your dad, Bobby, and Sam, sending an occasional text to your father letting him know you were alive. Not that the three of them hadn’t tried to reach out to you. Numerous missed calls and texts were cluttering up your phone. You couldn’t even remember the last case you’d actually worked.

You had tried after Dean had died. You really did because you knew that was what he would have wanted. He would have wanted you to keep going, fight the good fight, save people, hunt things. And it worked – for a month. That was when the nightmares started. It was always the same. Dean screaming in agony for you as legions of demons tortured him. You’d wake up in a cold sweat, short of breath, and sobbing. Alcohol seemed to be the only thing that helped. So you drank…and drank…and drank. You practically stayed drunk after that.

Over the past 15 months, you’d woken up in a lot of different places. Typically you stayed in your car or some motel room. A few times, you woke up in some strange guy’s apartment or house. Once you were chased from a home by an angry wife whose husband you’d spent the night with. On three different occasions in three different states you woke up in jail. Public intoxication. Assault. Inciting a riot. You’d managed to get out of all the charges somehow. But this – this was a new place.

You blink against the bright lights above you then squeeze your eyes closed, fighting the pulse in your left temple. Something’s beeping. Incessantly. It only takes a moment for you to realize what it is. A heart monitor. You’re in a hospital. You finally manage to open your eyes and assess your situation. Your hands are tied down to the railings and there’s an IV in your right elbow, running up to a machine. The door opens and you look up quickly. Your father is standing there, a coffee cup in his hand.

“Hey! You’re awake,” he says, relief clear in his voice. He rushes to your side and runs a hand over your hair. “How do you feel?”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” you groan. He smiles a little sadly then shrugs.

“No truck. Just fell off a bridge,” he tells you. Your eyes widen quickly as you stare at him. He looks down at your hand, placing his own over it. “They thought you jumped at first. But, ugh, when they got you to the hospital and did some blood work, they realized how drunk you were. Figured you’d just stumbled and fell. But they wanted to make sure you weren’t going to be a danger to yourself when you woke up so…” He trails off, squeezing your hand slightly. Your heart aches at the pain on his face. You’d never meant to hurt him like this. He was all you had after all.

“Dad, I wasn’t trying to kill myself,” you say, trying to get him to meet your eyes. When he finally does, you wish he hadn’t. You’d seen that look before. It was the same look he’d had when he had to tell you that your mother was dead.

“Yea you are, Y/N. Just slowly. Do you realize what you’ve already done to your liver? If you keep this up, I’m going to have to bury you. That’s not something a parent should have to do,” he says, trying not to cry. You look away as a tear slides down your cheek. He sighs and wipes it away for you. “I called Bobby and he said that once you’re out he’s got something for you to see.”

“I don’t need another of your interventions, Dad,” you snap. He, Bobby, and Sam had tricked you once about seven months ago with an “emergency”. It turned out to be a setup. Three against one, trying to get you to sober up. You’d left, furious and hurt.

“It’s not an intervention, Y/N. I think he just wants to see you,” he explains. You sigh and relent, agreeing to go. You felt so bad right now your father could probably get you to agree to anything.

They keep you for one more night just for observation. You’d apparently gotten really lucky. The bridge wasn’t too high and the water wasn’t too shallow. You’d only hit your head on a rock before someone dove in and grabbed you. A couple had been out for a romantic walk when they saw you fall over. The man pulled you from the water while his wife called for the ambulance.

As soon as you’re released, your dad gets you in his car and the two of you head for Sioux Falls. It was a few hours drive so you decide to relax, just resting your head against the window. You’re not going to fall asleep. You know what’s waiting for you if you do. You close your eyes but you’re not going to sleep. You’re not…

“Y/N!! Y/N, sweetheart, wake up!!” You hear your father calling to you. You sit up quickly, trying to catch your breath. “You were screaming.”

“Just – just a nightmare,” you tell him, running your hands over your face. He watches you, concerned.

“Okay, well, we’re almost to Bobby’s,” he says, turning onto a road. You nod and sit up, trying to shake the images from the nightmare. It was the same as all the others – Dean in Hell, in pain, and there wasn’t anything you could do about it.

Your dad pulls into Bobby’s driveway and you frown as he stops behind his truck. That old Impala is sitting just a few feet away. Sam was here too.

“Thought you said this wasn’t another intervention,” you say, looking over at him. He sighs and shrugs.

“Maybe Sam just wants to see you too. We’ve all been pretty worried about you,” he says. The two of you get out and you walk up to the porch together. He opens the door and allows you to step inside first. The house is quiet, just like the last time you’d been there. You walk through the kitchen and into the study where Bobby and Sam are both sitting. Sam rises from his spot on the couch and walks over to you, pulling you into a tight hug.

“You had us scared to death,” he says. You sigh and return the hug. He presses a kiss to the top of your head before he lets you go. Bobby is there as soon as your out of Sam’s arms.

“Don’t you ever do that again. You hear me, Y/N?” He says, grabbing you by the arms. You frown and nod quickly. “Your dad called. Said they thought you’d jumped off a bridge. Do you know what that did to us?”

“I didn’t jump. I swear. There was no intent. I’m not suicidal. Just…a clumsy drunk,” you tell them all. Bobby watches you for a moment then pulls you into a bone crushing hug. You sigh and hug him too, burying your face in his chest. You’d never meant to hurt these three men. You loved each of them dearly. He finally lets you go and you look between them. “So? What did you have to show me?” You ask. They all share a look.

“Y/N, why don’t you sit down,” Sam suggests, motioning to the couch. You frown and cross your arms.

“I do not need another intervention,” you tell them defiantly. Sam shakes his head quickly, going to say something. But the voice you hear next doesn’t come from Sam. It doesn’t come from your father or from Bobby.

“You should sit down, Darlin’,” Dean’s voice says from behind you. Your eyes flutter close and you take a shaky breath.

“Tell me someone else heard that,” you say, your voice quiet. You open your eyes at their silence and find them all three watching you closely. Turning slowly, your Y/E/C eyes meet those green ones. You feel your knees start to go weak. Sam places a hand on your back as Dean steps forward, taking your hands in his. You look down, shocked. You hadn’t expected his hands to be solid – to be real. You expected cold, not warmth. But they felt exactly like you remembered. “Oh my god. I’m dead.” Dean chuckles softly and you look up at him.

“You’re not dead, Sweetheart. I’m back. It’s, ugh, it’s a long story but I’m here. I’m me,” he says. You swallow thickly as the tears spring to your eyes. A shaky hand reaches up and your fingers just graze his cheek. His eyes close and he turns into your hand, pressing his lips against your palm. You choke on a sob before throwing your arms around him. Your body shakes as you cry into his shoulder, his hands gently rubbing your back. He sighs and places a chaste kiss against your temple. You finally manage to pull yourself together enough to look at him again.

“When did you get back?” You ask. His face falls slightly before he answers.

“Bout four months ago,” he tells you. You stare at him. Four months? Did he say four months? You push away from him quickly and he sighs.

“You’ve been back for four months and no one thought I should know?!” You nearly shout, looking at each of them. Sam frowns and shakes his head.

“We tried calling you, Y/N, but you never answered,” he says. Your dad nods, taking a step forward.

“We didn’t even know where you were,” he adds. You frown and look at the ground. They were right, of course. You’d been ignoring them all and running for over a year now. You feel Dean’s hand at the small of your back and you look up at him. Your breath catches in your throat at the look in his eyes. That same old look. Something.

“Can we have that conversation we shoulda had four years ago?” He asks. You bite your lip and nod slightly. He takes your hand in his then pulls you out the backdoor. He leads you a few yards out into the scrapyard before he stops and turns to face you. “So…”

“So…” You say.

“So…” He repeats, nodding slightly. You both start to laugh and his arms snake around your waist. You rest your hands on his shoulders, noticing for the first time how well the two of you fit – like two puzzle pieces, perfectly snapped together. “So, I probably shouldn’t have jumped straight into the whole marriage thing.”

“Dean,” you say, shaking your head. He reaches up, putting a finger over your lips.

“Let me talk, okay?” He asks. You smile slightly and nod. He drops his hand, the arm returning to your waist. “I shoulda started with dinner. Or just…telling you that I fell in love with you the moment I saw you under the hood of that old mustang right in this very spot.” You look around and smile. This was the spot. The spot you’d first noticed it in his eyes when he looked at you. “But I just wanted you to be mine.”

“I always have been. I was just scared,” you tell him. “The only hunters I ever knew that tried the whole marriage thing were my parents. And Mom died protecting Dad. You’d already been hurt multiple times trying to protect me. And then your dad was telling you the same thing. I panicked and I ran. I’ve been running for four years. I’m so tired of running, Dean.” He smiles softly and reaches up, pushing your hair behind your ear.

“Then stop. We don’t have to get married. We don’t have to date or whatever. I just want you right next to me for however long we’ve got left. Because, dammit woman, I love you,” he says. You break into a wide smile before his lips come crashing down against yours. You slide your hands into his hair, parting your lips to him.

For the first time in four years, everything felt right. Dean’s arms around your waist, fisting the shirt at your back. His lips moving hungrily against yours. Your fingers tightening in his hair. He pulls away, breathing heavily. His forehead comes to rest against yours and you sigh.

“I love you too,” you whisper. He smiles then presses his lips to your forehead before you step away from each other. He catches one of your hands, linking your fingers together, as you slowly walk back to the house together.

“Sam’s gonna want to get two rooms now,” he says, You laugh and shake your head. “What? You think I’m gonna be able to keep my hands to myself?” He asks, pulling you closer to his side.

“I think you’ll learn to control yourself, Winchester,” you tell him. He smiles and kisses your temple before pulling the back door open. You pull him back into the house with the rest of your family.

THREE MONTHS LATER

You pull your car into the parking lot of the building and glance over at Dean. He still has his eyes closed but you can see he’s getting impatient. He doesn’t like riding shotgun in someone else’s car, even if that someone else is you. And he definitely doesn’t like not knowing where he’s going. You reach over, putting a calming hand on his arm.

“Alright. You can open your eyes and stop pouting now,” you tell him. If his eyes were open, he’d roll them at you. He turns his head towards you before opening his eyes. You smile at him. “I didn’t bring you out here to stare at me.” He rolls his eyes now and looks out the front windshield. He raises an eyebrow.

“A wedding chapel?” He asks. You bite your lip and nod slightly.

“Not just any wedding chapel,” you tell him. He returns his attention to you now, confused. You turn enough to look behind you. Pointing to the motel across the street, you sigh. “That is where I left you nearly five years ago. And this,” you turn back to the chapel, “is the chapel you wanted to get married in.” You look back at Dean and his face is unreadable. He runs a hand over his jaw slowly.

“Are you proposing to me, Y/N?” He asks, cutting his eyes over at you. “Cause I don’t see a ring.” You bite back a smile and nod.

“Yes, Dean Winchester, I am proposing marriage to you,” you say. He shakes his head slowly.

“No, it’s just not a proposal if there isn’t a ring,” he says, looking out the window. You sigh and roll your eyes.

“Dean,” you start but he turns to face you, holding his hand out. What’s laying in his palm takes your breath away. It’s a simple gold band with a single diamond on it. It isn’t much but it’s more than you needed, more than you expected. Your eyes are brimming with tears when you look back up at him.

“You never let me finish that story, all those years ago. Dad told me you were a distraction. I told him I was going to marry you. He pulled this from his pocket and placed it in my hand. Told me if I was absolutely hellbent on marrying you, to give you this,” he says before looking back down at the ring. “It was Mom’s.”

“Oh, Dean,” you gasp. A stray tear manages to slip away and he reaches up, wiping it away quickly.

“What do you say?” He asks. You nod quickly and he smiles, leaning the rest of the way across the front seat to kiss you. Your hands find his face, holding him to you. When you eventually break away, he slips the ring onto your left hand.

“You realize you have to take my name, right?” You ask him. He looks at you quickly, raising an eyebrow. “I asked first, it’s only fair.”

“Technically, I asked first,” he says. You let out a laugh and nod, looking down at the ring on your finger. “Besides Y/N Winchester has a better ring to it than Dean Y/L/N.” You look up at him and there it is in his eyes. Something. That same something you plan to wake up seeing for the rest of your life. Love.