#sacred new beginnings

[sorchathered]

💕Lover💕

A/N- hey all! This is my submission for @ohtobeleah ‘s Galentine’s party!! I’m so excited to see everyone’s posts and concepts, make sure you check out the submissions under her tag!

Summary- A collection of memories and mood boards documenting you and Jake from engagement to wedding day.

Pairing- Jake Seresin x oc!reader (callsign Storm)

Warnings- language, drinking, smut.

“We can leave the Christmas lights up til January, this our place we make the rules”

It was January 5th now, you knew the chances of Jake being home for Christmas were slim but secretly you’d hoped he would be. He’d begged you not to spend the holiday alone his mother insisting you come to Texas so you’d flown out and spent two fantastic weeks with his family. They had welcomed you with open arms, taking you to all of Jake’s old haunts and involving you in their family traditions. You’d never been close to your parents so the overwhelming love you received from the Seresin family was something you’d never experienced before. You’d gotten to talk to him sporadically over the holiday but you could tell he was heartbroken he couldn’t be there with you. The time went by too fast and before you knew it the 5th had arrived and you were stepping off your plane in San Diego, Coyote was waiting to pick you up and you couldn’t wait to get home to your own bed. You’d put up a small tree with some lights before you left just to keep the seasonal depression at bay, but as you unlocked the door to your shared home you were met with what could only be described as a winter wonderland. The house was covered in lights, decorated ornately with paper snowflakes and there in front of a brand new 8 foot Christmas tree was Jake. He grinned his thousand watt smile at you as you dropped all of your bags and launched yourself into his arms.

“Hey Stormy girl, did ya miss me?”

You let out a watery laugh as you began to sob in earnest, he held you close and pressed kisses into your hair, reassuring you that he was home and this was real. When you finally settled he sat you both down on the couch in front of the massive tree, you were still in shock that not only was he here but he had somehow managed to transform your house into Santa’s workshop.

“What is all this baby?” You whispered against his lips, he’d never been big on Christmas but he knew you loved it so the thoughtfulness and effort put in after a nearly 3 month deployment was not lost on you.

“We didn’t get Christmas together darlin’ and I know being apart has been hard as hell these past few months” he stands up now, walking over to the tree to pick up a small gift you hadn’t even noticed. You gasp as tears well up in your eyes, Jake Seresin is down on one knee surrounded by a literal Christmas wonderland, and he’s about to ask you for forever. “Yes!” You blurt out, causing a belly laugh to erupt from him.

“You didn’t even let me ask sweetheart”

“You can but my answer is still yes, I just want to be yours, forever and ever.”

He closes the distance between you to slide his grandma’s engagement ring on your finger, kissing you in the glow of the twinkle lights.

“My heart’s been borrowed and yours has been blue, all's well that ends well to end up with you”

A joint bachelor/bachelorette party at the hard deck, all the boys had suggested strip clubs and hookers but Jake just wanted a night with everyone they loved and to maybe get you a little tipsy so he could proposition you for a hookup in the bathroom. You were dancing with Phoenix and a few of your other girlfriends, dressed in the tiniest white dress with a bedazzled cowboy hat and veil that said bride on the front. He didn’t think he could love you more than this moment; eyes full of joy and singing “Don’t stop believing” at the top of your lungs. He’d even let you convince him to wear the ridiculous groom t shirt you’d gotten him, taking all the jesting in stride even though he secretly loved it. He’d always give you whatever you want.

You were a spitfire when you wanted to be, always first to defend him if some cocky asshole got mouthy, he had been an absolute dick to everyone around him for years but since that first dagger squad mission he’d been trying his damndest to make amends.

That was one of the many ways he’d known you were the one, you’d been dating quietl after you and Rooster’s failed engagement had crashed and burned over a year before. During a particularly stressful training day the two had come to blows, both of them ending up in the infirmary as Rooster continued to pelt insults his way. Jake was trying to take it in stride but your temper could only take so much. You were professional but vicious in your descent on him, refusing to let Bradley Bradshaw and his unresolved emotional baggage dismantle all the work Jake had put in to better himself. You’d been a champion for him no matter what and he wasn’t used to anyone having his back, it took his breath away just how much you believed in him.

Watching you now he felt his heart swell, and he couldn’t sit in his chair any longer; the need to hold you carrying him across the room, spinning you into his arms with ease.

“Hi sugar, think I could steal you away for a few minutes?” He whispered in your ear, pressing soft kisses to your neck as he dipped you to cheers from the crowd. You threw your head back giggling and took his hand to drag him through the throngs of patrons to the quiet hall that held the bathrooms.

You knew what he wanted, he was always looking for an opportunity to get you wrapped around him, often joking he might have a bit of a kink for getting you off in public spaces but really he was just insatiable when it came to you, especially when you were dressed in what he thought may be the world's smallest dress and rubbing your body all over his.

Placing you on the side of the sink he ran his hands over you now, sliding a hand between your parted legs finding you obscenely wet and he chuckled; maybe he wasn’t the only one that got hot and bothered over hooking up where anyone could find you.

You gasped at his touch and pushed your hands into his hair, needing him to kiss you and he was all too willing, tasting your tongue as you moaned into his mouth, the prettiest sound he ever heard. He pulled your tiny scrap of underwear to the side and pressed his fingers into your dripping core, watching you grind down onto his hand, whispering filthy things he knew you’d be mortified if anyone heard and God he lived for it, you were his dirty girl behind closed doors all for him, only he got to see you like this. You were teetering on the edge now, suddenly removing his fingers from you with a smirk as you protested, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes and chest heaving while you begged for him to stop teasing and fuck you. He didn’t have to be told twice, letting you wrench his belt buckle open and unzip his jeans in record time, sliding home into your velvet heat, I love yous breathed out into the humid air of the bar bathroom. He chased your mutual highs quickly, knowing eventually someone would come looking for you, desperate cries pouring from your pouty pink lips and coming hard as you pulsed and fluttered around him, both of you bathed in ecstasy in the dim dingy light. As the two of you attempted to become presentable you were startled by the creaking of the bathroom door, Javy poking his head through and shaking his head with a raucous laugh.

“We’ve been taking turns guarding the bathroom, would you two heathens wrap it up? We’ve got celebrating to do!”

You both couldn’t hold in your laughter, they knew you too well, bracing yourselves for the onslaught of teasing for skipping out on your own party to hook up.

Drinks were distributed, a new game of pool was started and as you gazed at Jake across the room you couldn’t help but be proud of who he had become. He was honorable, steadfast and in fact too good to be true. You had both been damaged and jaded from past mistakes and relationships but had somehow healed each other becoming the best version of yourselves. You’d do it all again if it meant you ended up here, with your magnetic force of a man. Loving him was like coming up for air, he was Christmas morning and birthday wishes on lit candles and technicolor fireworks on the Fourth of July. You couldn’t wait to spend forever loving him.

“You’re my, my, my, my Lover.”

As you sat in the dressing room of the venue overlooking the harbor you were brought back to the night of Penny and Maverick’s wedding just a few years ago. You had come back to San Diego for their nuptials still heartbroken from your failed engagement with Bradley. Over the course of the long weekend you had found love again in the form of your best friend, the man you were finally about to marry.

Sometimes it still felt like a dream, you were afraid you would wake up one morning and still be single and heartbroken in your tiny apartment in Pensacola, but fate had stepped in and brought the two of you together. It hadn’t been easy, you were in tears more often than you’d like to admit when you first started dating long distance, and then deployments apart caused even more strain.

When you were finally promoted to Lieutenant Commander 10 months into your budding romance your superior told you there was an opportunity to fly again at top gun but this time with a new crew. So you and your front seater Viper decided to take the leap and head to Fightertown. Jake couldn’t believe it when he had a knock on his door that Sunday night to find you with all your luggage on his front porch, bottle of champagne in hand asking how he felt about a roommate.

It had been two years since then, both the dagger squad and red knights could be seen mingling outside and you felt your heart swell at how lucky you were to be surrounded by so many amazing friends.

Jake was all nerves on the opposite side of the venue, couldn’t seem to keep his hands from shaking as he tried to put his cufflinks on. Javy swatted his hand away and took over, shaking his head and handing Jake his whiskey to finish up.

“What are you so worried about? Stormy’s in dude, you two were made for each other.”

Jake knew he was being ridiculous, his family loved Stormy, all of his friends did too, he just wanted everything to be perfect for her.

“I’m not worried about her leaving me numb nuts, I just want it to be everything she hopes it is, I’ve checked the weather 100 times today and if it rains I swear-“

“Jake, she’s not just excited about the fairy tale wedding; she’s excited to marry you. The rest of it will turn out perfectly because you two will be together, the rest is gravy bud.”

Jake wondered to himself when Javy had gotten so smart, but he had to admit his wingman was right about one thing, being with you forever was the thing that mattered most and Jake couldn’t wait to start it with you.

As you walked down the aisle you could barely hold it together, Jake was already tearing up when you reached him taking his hand in yours it took all the restraint you had to not go ahead and kiss him. It was everything you had ever dreamed of and even if it had just been the two of you and a justice of the peace that would’ve been enough, because the end result was forever with the love of your life. Jake’s brother-in-law, a preacher back in Texas had been asked to be the officiant and when he finally announced you man and wife you couldn’t get to your love fast enough, pressing your lips to his as he made a show of dipping you for the crowd.

Later that evening in the glow of the harbor lights you were swaying to the music with your husband and you couldn’t put into words how perfect this night had been. He pulled your face close to his as he sang along with the band, and you had to kiss him again, it felt like every cell in your body cried out to be loved and touched by Jake Seresin and you knew without a doubt he always would. No matter where the two of you went he would do everything to love and protect you, and you would always do the same. Forever.

Jake Seresin Masterlist

Tagging- @ohtobeleah @bobgasm @attapullman @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @roosterforme @jessicab1991 @shanimallina87 @djs8891 @mygyn @86laura11 @floydsglasses @dempy @nouis-bum @angelbabyyy99 @pinkdaisies9285 @purelyfiction @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @jostan456 @kmc1989 @its-the-pilot @mrsevans90 @sailor-aviator

[lastbluetardis]

Sacred New Beginnings (19/?)

Summary: James Noble thought he traded away his chance at love and a happy-ever-after when he signed a contract with a record label that turned him into an international celebrity. But a chance meeting in a dive bar may prove him wrong. Ten x Rose AU This Chapter: Explicit, ~5000 words AO3 || Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | Ch11 | Ch12 | Ch13 | Ch14 | Ch15 | Ch16 | Ch17 | Ch18 |

James can hardly hear past the roar of his pulse in his ears as he is the sole focus of Jackie Tyler’s—(Jackie Peters’s? He’ll have to ask Rose what last name her mum has)—ire. Gone is the cheerful grin he’d seen in the photos Rose had sent of herself and her mother on holiday in Barcelona; now that joy is replaced with the sort of rage only a mother is capable of. 

He throws a desperate glance at the other adult in the room, but Tyler Peters is stunned into silence, his eyes locked on James as though he’d never seen a human being before.

Absurdly, this is what unfreezes James, and he throws out a stupid little, “Hello. I’m James Noble. Pleasure.”

“You’ve got a lot of nerve showin’ up here,” Jackie spits, stalking ever-closer. James regrets that he didn’t use the last two seconds to free himself from his position of being backed against the countertop. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Mummy! Daddy!”

Jackie whirls around to face the corridor at the sound of a tiny voice and pitter-patter of feet. She automatically crouches, and Tony gallops headlong into his mother’s waiting arms. She scoops him up and peppers kisses across his fair skin.

“Did you have a good night with sissy?” Jacke coos, stroking his hair away from his face. “She didn’t feed you any ice cream, did she?”

“Yeah! An’ made hotdogs and cheesy ‘tatoes, then we played Jus’ Dance, an’ James was there!”

“Oh?” Jackie asks, flashing James a withering glare. “When did he get here?”

“Yeah, he’s so fun!” Tony squeals, pivoting in his mother’s arms to beam at James. “He’s my fav’rite.”

Rose finally emerges from down the hall, her cheeks stained scarlet as she squeaks, “Hi, Mum. I expected you to text when you got here.”

“Oh, so you could hide this one somewhere?” Jackie scowls, gesturing to James.

“I… I wanted… I was gonna tell you…”

“What, that you let ‘im come weaslin’ back into your life? Did he come up with a sob story? Made it real convincin’, did he?”

“Jacks,” Tyler says quietly, inclining his head slightly towards Tony, who is still ensconced in his mother’s arms and watching the exchange curiously. “Let’s save it, eh?

Jackie purses her lips, then presses them to her son’s temple before handing the child to his father. “Take him outside, yeah? Meet you downstairs.”

“Five minutes,” Tyler warns. “This one needs to get to bed.” To his son, he chirps, “Say bye to sissy!”

“Bye-bye sissy! Gimme hugs and kisses!”

Rose tiptoes around her mother, not sparing her a glance as she scoops her little brother into her arms and gives him a couple of big twirls around the room.

“Spinny hug, spinny hug!” Tony screeches, clinging to Rose for dear life.

The sight makes something hollow ache in the pit of James’s gut. The siblings clearly adore each other, and Rose is so good with him.

“Bye-bye James!” Small hands tap his legs, and he realizes Tony is gesturing for a hug. He hesitates for only a fraction, but he can’t say no to those big brown eyes.

“G’night Tony,” he whispers, kneeling for a brief embrace. “Thanks for playing with me tonight.”

“All right, little man, wanna see who can race down the stairs fastest?” Tyler asks his son, ruffling Tony’s fair blond hair.

“Yeah! Onetwothreego!”

Tony bolts out of the flat, giggling madly, leaving his father to leisurely stroll behind him. Before Tyler closes the door behind him, he spins and says, “Good night, Rosie.”

“Night,” she mumbles, looking increasingly uncomfortable at the prospect of being left alone with her mother.

James nearly fumbles out an excuse to leave, but realizes that would be the most cowardly thing he’d ever done, and Rose deserves better than that. So he pulls on his big boy pants and turns to face the music.

Before he can speak, Jackie turns on Rose and throws her arms up into the air. “What are you thinking?! Have you gone mental?!”

“Mum, please just…”

“Whatever happened to “I deserve better than bein’ the latest in a long line”? I thought you were over bein’ a good time for someone who would drop you in a heartbeat for someone younger and smarter and prettier?”

Rose flinches from her mother, and James takes an automatic step towards her, reaching across the space between them.

“It’s not… it’s not like that,” Rose says weakly. “I got it wrong.”

“Oh, did you? ‘Cos from where I’m sittin’, it’s bloody obvious what’s going on here. Mister Handsome Rich Rockstar has swindled you again, tellin’ you whatever it is you want to hear so he can keep you ‘til he’s done with you.”

“Er, I’m not technically a rockstar,” James blurts, and he can hardly believe what has just come out of his mouth. But he can’t stop. It’s like his brain has ceased all higher function and his mouth has taken over. “More folk-pop. Indy, maybe? Soft pop?”

“Oh, shut up,” Jackie snaps, turning to him with fire in her eyes.

He clacks his teeth together and nods, stuffing his hands into his pockets in an attempt to make himself seem as small as possible, which is quite the impossible feat, considering his height.

“You! You need to get the hell away from my daughter if you know what’s good for you. You men, you’re all the same, taking what you want, thinkin’ you’re entitled to get your way, lyin’ through your bleedin’ teeth to get what you want. Well I won’t stand for it! My Rose deserves better. She isn’t a girl you can shag and drop the moment someone else comes along.”

“I… I know,” James stammers, his mouth impossibly dry and his stomach roiling in discomfort.

“Oh, do you?” Jackie remarks, false surprise lifting her face. “You had no problem tellin’ the entire bloody world you were just havin’ a bit of fun. ‘Cos that’s all you really want, isn’t it? Fun and a place to wet your cock…”

“Mum! Enough!” Rose shouts, red-faced and near-tears. “I was wrong. We’d both misunderstood each other. But we’re together now. Properly.”

“That’s what he told you, didn’t he? Bet he sounded real sorry too. Bet he said all the right words, didn’t he?”

James’s heart falls when he sees Rose flinch and drop her gaze to her feet.

“That’s enough,” he says quietly. “Say whatever you want about me, but Rose is smart enough to make her own decisions about her life, no matter what you believe. Yes, when Rose and I first started seeing each other, we each thought it was something casual. And I was an idiot for what I told the reporters. But things are different now. I want what’s best for her.”

Jackie grunts dismissively. “You say that now, but the moment she gives you a bit of bad press, you’re going to spin whatever little tale you need to tell to get the public on your side, and my Rose is gonna be the one who gets smeared through the muck.”

“I wouldn’t…”

“Mum, please,” Rose whispers. “I know I have an awful track record with boyfriends, but those are my mistakes to make. Maybe James will be a mistake, maybe he won’t be, but you have to let me live my life the way I choose to. And right now, I choose him.”

Jackie softens a fraction as she turns to her daughter. It’s as though with him out of sight, the gentle mother returns. She reaches to Rose and cradles her jaw, stroking her cheeks as she says, “My Rose. I will always want the best for you. It killed me to see you in such a state on holiday. I don’t want to see you be taken advantage of. Is it money? Sweetheart, you know me and your dad will help you out, you don’t need to stay with him for that.”

James is slightly offended that Jackie thinks he’s paying Rose to hang out with him or paying her for sex, but before he can think of a response, Rose covers her mother’s hands and leans into the touch.

“It’s not money,” she assures. “He’s not paying for anything of mine.”

“He bloody well should—he’s rich! You better not be payin’ for your dates!”

Rose lets out a sniffly giggle and throws her arms around her mother, who holds her tightly and rocks her from side to side. James wonders if he should sneak out while they’re distracted, but he finds he’s rooted to the spot, trying to wrap his head around the last few minutes.

“Please be safe, sweetheart,” Jackie whispers. “Please.”

“I am safe, Mum. And I wish you’d believe me when I say I’m happy. Really happy.”

“I believe that you believe it,” Jackie says, pulling back just far enough to kiss Rose’s forehead. “Remember that I’m here for you the moment you need me. Don’t you ever think you can’t come home to your old mum.”

Rose nods wordlessly.

The fight seems to have left Jackie, but she turns to him and says, “Don’t you dare hurt her, or mess her over.”

“I–  I won’t,” he vows.

Jackie narrows her eyes, scanning him up and down, but doesn’t say anything else. She turns away from him and back to Rose. “I gotta go. It’s way past Tony’s bedtime. Thanks for watchin’ him.”

“Of course. I love spending time with him,” Rose says, guiding her mother to the door.

“I love you. More than anything.”

“Love you too. Drive safe.”

Jackie kisses both of Rose’s cheeks and doesn’t even look James’s way as she sweeps out of the flat.

oOoOo

Downstairs in the foyer, Tyler Peters is desperately trying to occupy his definitely-tired-but-pretending-he’s-not-tired four-year-old, and it’s going about as well as one could hope. Tony is racing laps around the room, skillfully dodging the amused (and mercifully tolerant) tenants of the building who are simply trying to enter or exit the building.

“Watch it, mate,” he calls when Tony nearly barrels into the little old lady who has lived in this building for decades. She is one of the few residents who already leased a flat here before Tyler became the owner of the building. “So sorry Mrs. Donovan.”

“Oh, my grandsons have just as much energy,” the old woman says cheerfully, smiling down at Tony. “These bones may be old, but they’re sturdier than they look.”

“Hi!” Tony chirps, flashing a toothy smile. “Bye!”

And so the laps continue.

And continue…

And continue…

Tyler sighs and checks his watch. He should’ve known Jackie couldn’t keep it to five minutes. It’s nearing on fifteen, and he’s about to corral his son so they can go fetch her when the lift dings and Jackie steps out, her eyes sparking and her jaw locked.

“Mummy!” Tony sprints over and takes her hand. “Time to go!”

Tyler joins his family and takes his wife’s free hand, rubbing his thumb along the back of hers.

“Chat go all right?” he asks quietly.

“I don’t know what the hell she’s thinking,” Jackie grumbles. “I mean… James bloody Noble?! It was bad enough to hear my daughter was havin’ a lark with that… that… scoundrel in the first place. But now she’s taken him back? Stupid. Irresponsible.”

Tyler bites back a smirk and knocks his elbow into her ribs. “Put yourself in her shoes, eh? When you were her age, you can’t tell me that you wouldn’t have bedded Bono if he’d shown the slightest bit of interest in you?”

“It’s not the same!” she complains. “Bono never would’ve…”

“And Rose likely thought James Noble never would’ve,” he says simply. “You know I love her dearly and that I want the best for her, but Rose seems happy right now. Will it last? Probably not. But let her have this, eh? How many people can say they dated a famous singer in their youth? It’ll be a story for the grandkids and great-grandkids.”

His wife huffs out another impatient breath, but doesn’t argue further. “Yeah. Maybe. But still. James bloody Noble. I just hope Rose knows what she’s doing, datin’ that man…”

Tyler wraps his arm around her waist and gives her a squeeze, but doesn’t say more. Together, they walk out of the foyer of the building, all while being watched by two young women leaning on the wall beside the lifts.

The women exchange stunned, disbelieving looks.

“James Noble? The James Noble?” one of them asks.

“With Rose Tyler?” the other asks. “The girl up in flat 10-2?”

No fucking way…

oOoOo

James stares at the front door for several long seconds after Jackie’s marvelous exit. Rose shifts away from his side to step forward, twisting the lock and fastening the deadbolt chain before she clunks her forehead into the door. She doesn’t move from her position, so he goes to her.

Carefully, he slips his arms around her waist and presses a whisper-soft kiss to the side of her neck. Though she feels limp, she manages to spin in his grasp to instead plonk her head into his chest rather than her front door. She simply stands there, unmoving, as he rubs her back.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, voice muffled. “I didn’t think… I thought she’d… I’m so sorry.”

He doesn’t know what to say, so he stays quiet, nestling his stubbly cheek into her hair and breathing her in. Never before has a parental introduction gone so poorly. Usually his partners are as famous as him, so the parents are accepting and gracious or simply indifferent. Occasionally they’ll fawn over him.

But the outright hostility and venom that Jackie just spat at him…

“I didn’t realize you’d told your mum about me,” he finally says, matching the volume of his voice with hers.

She groans and says, “During our holiday. I’d been out of sorts, thinkin’ you didn’t care about us at all. Mum caught on to my mood. I didn’t mean to tell her, but I was quite upset, and it all just sorta… came out. And when I saw your red-carpet interview that confirmed I was just a bit of fun for you… I lost it, and she saw my reaction, and it wasn’t good.”

James wishes he could go back in time and wallop his past self across the head for his thoughtless comments. He wishes he’d had the courage to tell the interviewer how he felt about Rose, to tell the world that he was riding the high of falling in love, and that he wanted to keep it private. But he hadn’t. He’d been a prick and a twat, and he’d broken Rose’s heart from five and a half thousand miles away.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’ve forgiven you for it all. But I just… I guess I’d forgotten how much I’d told Mum about you. And I’d forgotten how upset she was on my behalf. I was stupid for thinking that telling her on the spot that you and I were properly together would be enough for her to accept you. I shouldn’t have done it this way… I should have talked to her first, then introduced you. I’m so stupid.”

His stomach churns as he squeezes her tightly, as though that could rid them both of the shock they’re in.

“Should I… should I go?” he asks, mentally pleading with her to say no. The thought of spending his night in his empty house makes him ache with loneliness. 

To his relief, she shakes his head. “I don’t want you to, but I don’t feel like I deserve to have you with me tonight. My mum just… verbally eviscerated you. You must be so angry.”

“Not at all,” he insists. “Well… I’m a bit chastened. And a bit embarrassed that I made such a poor first impression, and that you’d been so upset about my behavior that you told your mum how awful I am. But I still want to be here. With you. If that’s all right.”

In response, Rose finally lifts her face from where it had been pressed into his shirt. Her eyes are a little red but completely dry, though he barely registers that fact before she threads her fingers through his hair, presses up onto her toes, and brushes her mouth to his. His eyes flutter shut at the glorious pressure of her kiss. He melts into her, splaying his palm across her back to hold her close.

“Stay,” she murmurs when she breaks away, though she catches his lips in another kiss a moment later. “Please stay with me.”

“For as long as you wish,” he says, because there is nothing on this planet that could make him leave.

Apart from her kiss of greeting at the door, this is the first that James has had Rose’s hands and lips on him in over a week. He tries to keep it chaste and slow, still unsure whether it’s appropriate for him to stay, while hoping to convey comfort and support through his body. He really shouldn’t let them get carried away; Rose is obviously upset, but he just can’t help it. He’s drawing as much strength from her as she hopefully is from him.

He has the presence of mind to keep his hands in safe places, primarily across the expanse of her back. He grabs onto the fabric to anchor himself as he basks in the heady intoxication of her mouth.

They each know exactly where this kiss is headed but pretend not to, and instead they explore each other’s mouths in lazy, indolent strokes of lips and tongue. James quickly becomes far too hot, his skin flushed and tingling with anticipation of things to come. He tentatively dips his fingers beneath her jumper, shuddering to touch her bare skin. She sighs into his mouth and presses her front flush with his.

He’s steadily getting hard in his jeans, each beat of his heart sending his blood rushing down, down, down, helped along by the rocking of Rose’s hips. He drops a hand to her arse, caressing and squeezing and pulling her more tightly into him. With his other hand, he tangles his fingers into her hair and guides her head back a bit to get better access to her neck. She grips his hips with near-bruising force as he plants row after row of searing kisses to the sensitive patch of skin beneath her ear. That familiar whining moan rushes out of her as she shudders in his arms, holding him close to urge him on. Not that he needs the encouragement.

Without breaking the kiss or the press of their bodies, James slowly guides them down the hall and to Rose’s bedroom. It takes ages, as he keeps getting distracted with the taste of her skin and the sound of her quiet gasps. They move even more slowly when Rose remembers that she has hands, then proceeds to use them to cup him and stroke him through his jeans.

“Christ,” he chokes out as a spark of pleasure zips up his spine.

“Rose,” she counters, giving him a playful squeeze that sends a full-body shudder through him.

“Smart-arse. Fuck, do that again.”

A laugh hums up her throat, vibrating against his now-still lips as she grips him tightly and rubs. He’s going to fucking lose it, right here in the doorway of her bedroom, but Christ this feels so good and he never, ever wants her to stop.

The intensity recedes a moment later, and he regains his senses enough to tug her hand away from him to instead guide her all the way into her room. There’s a pile of laundry on her bed that Rose haphazardly shoves to the floor.

“Clothes off,” she orders as she fumbles with the hem of her jumper, tugging until she pulls it over her head.

He doesn’t need telling twice.

Neither of them bothers with trying to sexily disrobe the other. Rather, they go for speed and efficiency, and soon enough, they’re both wonderfully naked. She’s as beautiful as he remembers, even more so, and he drags her down to the mattress with him. They move together until Rose is on her back, her legs open for him, and he’s atop her, his hips cradled in hers. She reaches between them for his cock, and strokes him a few times as she guides him inside of her.

He presses in, slowly, inch by inch, shivering at the sensations rushing through him. He groans through clenched teeth as he’s fully seated, forcing himself to wait, to give Rose a moment to adjust. She’s panting beneath him, chest rising and falling as her nails bite into the fleshy part of his back.

“Okay,” she whispers, arching her hips up and pulling him close for a rough, sloppy kiss that conveys everything she wants and needs from him.

His skin sings, tingling at the sensation of so much of her body pressed to his. His blood turns molten, burning him from within as he begins to move.

“Feels so good,” he chokes out, pulling back and plunging forward in a steady, measured manner. The slick glide of her all around him is as addictive as ever, and he trembles with the pleasure slowly mounting in him.

“Uh huh.” Her agreement dies on a moan as he thrusts in with a little more force this time. “James.”

He catches her bottom lip between his before releasing it to kiss her again. He teases his tongue into her mouth, flicking at the roof of her mouth just behind her front teeth, then going back to simpler kisses. Rose clings to him, kissing him back in equal measure as her nails rake down his spine to cup his arse, guiding his quickening rhythm. The sting of her nails coils a raging, aching heat low in his spine, building higher and higher until he knows it won’t be much longer until he’s lost.

“I missed you,” he grunts as her muscles begin to tighten around him. Thank fuck; she’s as close as he is. He redoubles his effort, wanting to push her over the edge first. “So much.”

“Me too,” she gasps. “Fuck. Please…”

He speeds up his rhythm, giving up on kissing her lips and instead tucking his face into the side of her neck. He breathes her in then plants his mouth to that patch of skin beneath her ear that is always her undoing. He grins to himself as she shudders and curses and moans, and when he dips a hand between them to rub her, she breaks.

She cries out and writhes into the mattress, arching her hips up and up and up, closer to him, closer to the sensations he is wringing out of her. She’s perfect, and fucking hell, he’s right on her heels. The perfect pressure within him pulls tighter, making him lose all sense as he chases his high. He thrusts with abandon, clenching his teeth as the flames fan hotter, drowning him, consuming him…

He lets out a wrenching moan and thrusts deeply into her, releasing helplessly, shaking and cursing and burying his face into her. Sensation sparks through him, channeling relief and pleasure through his entire body, curling his toes and stealing his breath. She’s everywhere, all around him and holding him through this maelstrom that has never felt so fucking good.

Rose… he thinks he gasps her name, but the rushing in his ears deafens him to anything except his erratic heartbeat.

He returns to awareness by Rose lazily stroking his back and kissing the top of his shoulder. His body is too heavy to move, but he manages to pull out and flop indelicately beside her, keeping an arm and leg slung over her. She laughs quietly at his antics, and he grins into the pillow. He cracks open an eye to look at her, and the sight of her smile and sex-mussed hair and flushed cheeks ignites a joy and love so deep that he begins to giggle. His body is thrumming with hormones that make him feel boneless and content, and through it all, he laughs and folds himself closer to Rose.

She’s laughing with him and turns to face him fully. He mirrors her position so they’re both on their sides, their legs tangled lazily together. He reaches out and brushes a few rogue strands of hair away from her face, then leans in to kiss her softly.

“That was great,” he whispers into the sacred silence of her bedroom.

“Mhm. Very great.”

“The most great,” he says, beaming as she rolls her eyes.

“Did you have a nice trip?” she asks.

He hums in wordless assent, and briefly tells her all about the week he’d spent in east Asia, meeting fans and doing photoshoots while promoting Catalysis.

“How was your week? Are you feeling better?” While her voice is still raspy from the illness she’d contracted, she looks and sounds much better than she had during their video chat on his last night in Japan.

“Much better. Teaching classes while feeling like death is always frustrating, but it’s easier than arranging for a substitute,” she says with a shrug.

He frowns, but they already had this discussion about how shittily schools treat their teachers, so he lets it go.

“I’ve got an upcoming holiday concert at the O2, weekend after next,” he murmurs, remembering the monthly schedule Donna had sent him that morning. “I’d… I’d really like you to come. If you want. It’s not just me. I think Ed Sheeran is on the list too. And Astrid Peth. She’s a good mate of mine. You can bring a few friends with you. There’s a private suite for my guests, so you could stay hidden, mostly, as long as cameras aren’t wandering around. And my mum’ll be there too. I think. Well. I should invite her, shouldn’t I…?”

Rose interrupts his nervous rambling with a soft kiss. He melts into her, but she breaks it far too soon for his liking.

“I’d love to,” she says, cupping his cheek before scraping her nails through his hair.

His eyes flutter shut at the echoes of pleasure that ripple through him, and he grins at her acceptance of his invitation. He’s giddy at the thought of being on stage and looking into his private suite to see Rose. His favorite pieces of his life will be in the same place, melding together perfectly.

He leans forward to kiss her again, and she willingly reciprocates.

oOoOo

They sleep, eventually. Between (and during) bouts of sex, they talk about everything and nothing. It’s like nothing bad can happen to them here, not when they’re twined so intimately, not when they’re making each other laugh so freely.

Wrung out in that perfect post-marathon-sex way, James buries himself beneath Rose’s blankets and lets blissful unconsciousness claim him. His dreams are vague and foggy, and he doesn’t remember them when he awakes later that morning to sunlight peeking through Rose’s curtains.

His eyes are gritty and heavy as he leans over to check the time. It’s barely 8am, but he feels refreshed, even though the drowsiness of lingering sleep tugs at him again. His shuffling has disturbed Rose, who curls close to him and mutters something unintelligible. He kisses her forehead and closes his eyes once more.

He drifts in and out for many long minutes before the gurgling of his stomach is too distracting. Even Rose hears it, and she pokes his belly, mumbling, “Shush.”

“Can’t exactly help it. Mind if I order a breakfast and coffee delivery?”

“Go for it,” Rose says through a yawn.

“Then can I borrow your shower?” he asks, sitting up and letting the sheets pool around his naked waist.

“Go for it,” she repeats, tucking an arm beneath her pillow to glance up at him. Her gaze falls to the morning erection that is somehow poking at the blankets despite their multiple rounds of very satisfying sex the night before. “Well, hello.”

She gently prods it, giggling when it bobs a bit. “Bouncy.”

James stifles a snort. “You’re adorable when you’re sleepy.”

“Pfft.”

He lets her mindlessly poke his cock as he scrolls to a food delivery app and orders a selection of bagels and croissants for them, as well as his favorite coffee and her favorite tea. His chest balloons with warmth when he adds Rose’s address to his list of favorites, then places their breakfast order.

“Should be here in half an hour,” he says, resting his phone on the nightstand, ignoring the handful of missed notifications. It’s the bloody weekend, for God’s sake. It can wait. For good measure, he completely silences everything, not wanting his morning with Rose to be disturbed.

“Hmmm, how can we pass the time?” Rose muses, blinking up at him through her lashes and grinning wickedly.

She shows him just how entertaining thirty minutes can be.

He doesn’t have time for a shower before there’s a knock at the door that has them scrambling for clothes. He tugs on his pants and t-shirt while Rose simply dons a robe overtop her knickers, cinching it tight at the waist to keep her modesty. They emerge from the bedroom, with James going to the kitchen for plates while Rose heads to the door.

There’s an odd commotion in the hallway, but James doesn’t really think much of it, not as he absently wonders what he and Rose could do today. Maybe they can sneak out somewhere and visit a museum or something. Maybe he could take her to the studio—it should be fairly empty on a Saturday morning. Maybe they can take an impromptu road trip to somewhere Rose has never been. Pack their bags and drive to the first place they can think of. Book a hotel and order in a bunch of fancy food and rent some films to watch and get drunk on expensive wine and kiss until their lips are bruised. God, that sounds like a perfect weekend, and he hopes Rose will be agreeable.

But all of those plans, those hopes, are dashed the moment Rose opens her front door to reveal a stunned delivery person and over a dozen paparazzi photographers, armed and ready with flashing cameras.

[beca-mitchell]

Dude I just reread Sacred New Beginnings so it’s funny you posted your post again . It’s one of my favorite works of yours! May I ask what’s life looks like for those three? Did they add a 4th? Did Jesse scar Beca on marriage or did she marry Chloe? Love that little world 🤗

Omg! That means everything. I was having feelings about that fic recently as well.

I think they definitely would want to grow their family at a certain point. And of course, I'm sure a discussion as to who could father their child would arise, but ultimately, in this universe, I think they would adopt another child or use a donor.

With this particular universe, I always envisioned that there'd still be some rocky tension between Chloe and Jesse, even as Olivia grows older. And I fantasized about writing more for this universe especially one where Olivia is confused about the make-up of her family especially in a scenario where Chloe and Jesse would fight. It'd still take some time for them to nail down the co-parenting thing, but I also believe ultimately Jesse would be very happy with another woman and he eventually starts a family with that still-nameless woman. Obviously Beca and Chloe are madly in love as always, but you know me. I gotta sprinkle in a bit of angst.

[lightningboltreader]

🥹❤️😭🫶🏻

I can’t say enough good things about this incredibly thoughtful and intimate look into Tarlos’ early married years.

Even after their many years together, TK sometimes feels a little overwhelmed by Carlos, how he’s not only the most gorgeous man he’s ever seen, but how he’s perfect for TK.

Immerse yourself in their forever love.

sacred new beginnings

E // 49k // complete

Chapters: one | two | three | four | five

After five years of marriage, TK and Carlos have been through a lot together, but change is never something that stays away for too long. As they approach a new phase of their lives—searching for a new home—they continue to navigate many other changing aspects of their relationship—family drama, work dynamics, sex, and discussions of their future.

With each twist and turn, they work through it as they always do. Together.

Or, the marriage fic.

read on ao3

Thank you to @lightningboltreader and @rmd-writes for beta reading this, as well as @reyesstrand for letting me bounce ideas (and the whole concept) off of you <3

[odetojupiter]

jean kevin and neil all being 19 when they officially leave the nest feels significant somehow

(kevin being 19 when he runs, jean being 19 when renee takes him, neil’s fake age being 19 when he leaves after christmas and his real age being 19 when he leaves after riko is shot and he’s officially pardoned by ichirou)

[ajdrawshq]

oct2path has become real.........

[mulderscully]

me fighting the urge to name every fic after a taylor swift lyric

[nishadesigns]

A Sacred Marriage- Lughnasadh Blessings- Nisha Designs

[ivemanifest]

Let's open portals of spiritual expansion & new beginnings today with this New Moon 🪄💚

[fearsomeandwretched]

Listening to Cornelia street and got sad

[sorchathered]

Sacred New Beginnings- Chapter 10

A/N- Holy cow yall we are finally here! Our last chapter of this series, but not the end for Jake and Stormy! I will be checking in here and there, I have some one shots planned for them in the future and I’m excited for you guys to see how things have been going for them. Again thank you all so much for the love, I will always have a special place for this series since it’s my first baby. I want to give a massive shout out to @mamachasesmayhem for being my cheerleader from the very beginning of this series, proofreading for me and helping me brainstorm when I couldn’t push through the writer’s block. You have been amazing and I love you!! 😘

Pairing- Jake “Hangman” Seresin x reader (oc Stormy)

Warnings- language, PTSD, smut

It had been a little over a week since you showed up at Jake's doorstep, he still couldn’t believe that he’d finally gotten what he wished for. Waking up next to you every morning, getting to commute to work together, sneaking off to hook up during lunch, it was all so much more than he could’ve hoped for. You were so damn happy, you and Viper had integrated seamlessly into your new squad, some people like Harvard and Omaha you already knew but there were new players as well and everyone had been so welcoming. You had kind of dreaded running into Bradley and Erin but even that seemed to go well, they had welcomed their son Nicky a few months after your accident and he was now a full blown toddler, the spitting image of his father. Both of them had been friendly, Bradley welcoming you back and Erin saying she was so happy you’d recovered, you knew they truly meant it and graciously accepted their words.

Jake maintained that you were a saint but really it was just that you hadn’t truly loved Bradley, at least not in a way that would’ve lasted. Neither of you had been compatible, and it was so easy to see now that you’d been with Jake for nearly two years; when it was truly meant to be it was unlike anything else mattered but the one you loved, and you couldn’t imagine life without Jake beside you. The ring in the top of his closet seemed to mock him every day, he wanted it to be absolutely perfect but nothing seemed good enough for his girl, so he let it sit untouched for yet another week as he took you out to the arcade on Friday for what had quickly become a weekly date night.

You had put a bunch of ideas in a jar the week before, told him to shake it up and pick one and off you both went on whatever adventure was scribbled on the tiny note, tonight was burgers and laser tag and while he’d joked that he was too old for that he had been the one hunting you down to shoot you as he cackled, maybe he just needed to be reminded that things didn’t always have to be so stressful because he couldn’t remember when he’d had this much fun.

After a lazy Sunday beach day and dinner on the grill he’d curled up with you on the couch with a movie, you’d meant for things to be innocent but he smelled so good and you found yourself turning in his arms to sling your leg over his hip, making out with him like you were a pair of teenagers. He fucked you slow and steady into the leather couch while the movie droned on in the background, his mouth slotted against yours as his hands roamed your body, you loved to joke how insatiable he had become since you moved in but you knew you were just as gone for him, too many nights had been spent apart and now having him in close proximity all you wanted was to make him feel good. You both came undone together as you whispered I love you into his neck, and all Jake could think of was how perfect his life had become.

Monday morning before he’d even had his coffee he’d gotten a text from Maverick to head to Cyclone’s office as soon as he got in, he immediately felt his stomach drop just thinking of what that meant. Deployment, for who knows how long and who knows where, and ultimately having to say goodbye to you again after he just got you back. He couldn’t bear to say anything to you until he knew for sure, so he went through the motions business as usual as you both ate breakfast and headed to work, kissing you a little longer than normal before you parted but you didn’t seem to notice anything off, promising to meet him for lunch with a wink and kisses blown in his direction. His feet felt like lead standing outside of Admiral Simpson’s office, he knew nothing good was coming from this meeting and when he entered he could tell by the look on his face that it was exactly what he thought. “How long?” He said as Mav handed him his papers, he could feel the lump forming in his throat and wanted out of this room as soon as possible. “Nine weeks son, I’m sorry Jake I know Y/N just got here, but you’re the best for the task and if I could I’d let you stay. She’ll be alright, I’ll keep an eye on her, you just do the job and come home safe.” Jake nodded and shook his hand, bailing from the room as soon as he could, he swiped his phone open and dialed you as fast as he could, but he couldn’t seem to catch his breath and when you answered he was full blown panicking, choking out to meet him by the truck and hanging up as he collapsed into the seat of his f-150. He wasn’t ready to go, you’d only been back in the air for a few months and now he finally had you here where he could take care of you, why couldn’t someone else have been picked?

You’d run across the lot to find him with his head in his hands in the front seat, wrenching the door open to wrap your arms around him, anything to help him regulate his emotions. He finally seemed to settle his breathing, relaxing into your arms while you stroked his sandy hair and kissed his cheeks. “What’s going on baby? You’ve got me scared now, did something happen with your family? Is your mom ok?” He squeezed your hand and passed the papers off to you, you knew exactly what it meant and you felt cold all over. This was the job, and while you both loved it you hated this part more than anything. He would miss all the major holidays together in your new home, your heart broke a little at having to celebrate Christmas without him and he let you curl into his arms and cry.

He only had a week from getting his papers to shipping out and it felt like the time was speeding away from him and he couldn’t catch it. He’d been adamant that the two of you update your wills on Tuesday and you had vehemently opposed it, he was stressing a little too much for your liking and it left you unmoored. Deployments were a part of this life, and yes you’d had a serious scare this last time but that didn’t mean he needed to become doom and gloom over it, you were worried about his mindset going into this, he needed a clear head if he had any hope of getting through this unscathed.

Wednesday night he was meticulously going through his packing list, gear spread all over the living room when you stepped into the house with take out, the vein in his forehead that only came out when he was angry seemed to be a permanent presence as of late, he was all furrowed brows and tense shoulders and you couldn’t take it for one more minute. “Jacob Thomas Seresin!” You called from the kitchen and he snapped his head to attention, he hadn’t even noticed you had gotten home until you shouted, looking across the room to find you with a pizza box in one hand and you completely stripped to nothing as you leaned against the doorframe. You sauntered over to where he sat cross legged on the floor, dropping the pizza box on the coffee table as you lowered yourself onto his lap, he was already getting hard for you when you pressed your bare pussy to the front of his gym shorts, his face going completely blank, no sign of that pesky forehead vein in sight.

“Fuck Stormy what are you doing baby? I gotta get this-“ he stopped short with a gasp as you ground yourself into him as you yanked a little roughly on his hair, pulling his face to yours and sloppily licking into his open mouth, he seemed to short circuit for a moment but recovered quickly as he wrapped his arms around your bare torso and kissed you back with fervor. Yanking his head back again to look up at you he blinked glazed emerald orbs at you, you were frustrated with him, he could see that now but he couldn’t focus enough to ask with you on top of him like this, he thought about asking but thought better of it when you reached down and took his length from his shorts, thoughts scattering all over again when you got up on your knees and sunk down on him, you still hadn’t said anything but he couldn’t be bothered anymore, whining out your name as you took him to the hilt with your warm center clenching around him. You nibbled on his lip and rubbed your nose along his as you wrapped your arms around his neck and you could feel the tension leaving him as you held him close, you knew he’d needed it as much as you, just the closeness of your bodies pressed together was enough to soothe whatever had been ailing both your minds.

“I’m going to sit here with you just like this until you calm the fuck down and tell me what’s got you so amped up, you’ve been like an exposed nerve ever since you got your papers and I can’t let you leave like this. You’re scaring me Jake, you can’t leave for a mission distracted you know better than that. You’re the best pilot I’ve ever seen and they picked you to head this op. You have to tell me what’s going on, you just have to!” You cried out as tears began to pour from your eyes, your throat felt raw with the emotion bubbling out of you and you began to shake in his embrace, the combination of being so full of him and revealing your worry almost too much. He seemed to jolt out of whatever trance he’d been in at your tears, swiping at them as they ran down your cheeks and kissing you hard, he knew he’d been distant and stressed couldn’t begin to describe how he’d been feeling, but he hadn’t even thought about himself and how it could affect the mission; all his worries had been solely focused on you.

“Oh baby I’m so sorry, shh hey I’m here ok? I’ll tell you all of it, just don’t cry sugar. I can't stand knowing I hurt you.” He was kissing every bit of your face he could get to, smoothing his hands all over you as you began to come down and regulate your breathing. You couldn’t be closer if you tried and yet he still felt so far away, you needed more so you latched on to his mouth and tightened your arms around his neck, he let you ground yourself and calm down, just breathing you in until the tears finally stopped. “Baby, baby I love you so much, I’m sorry” he murmured against your lips, you nodded and sniffled a little but didn’t loosen your grip, rocking into him slowly knowing he’d know what you wanted. He groaned low in his throat and flipped the two of you over as he pressed you gently into the carpet, letting the hot languid kisses burn the two of you up, all heat and bodies grinding into each other, letting all the stress go and just being hopelessly in love.

Hours later after you were both fully sated and relaxed you laid naked in his arms and ate the cold pizza while he let out all the words he’d kept bottled up. “It hadn’t ever occurred to me that we could lose this, I mean our job is dangerous sure but some naive part of me just thought we were untouchable.”

“Until I got hurt” you said quietly.

“Until you got hurt. It felt like someone had pulled the rug out from under me, every dream I’d ever had of us and our future could’ve been gone in an instant and I am terrified that something could happen to me and I’d leave you here alone.” He tightened his grip on your waist and you pressed a kiss to his chest, you knew exactly how he felt because you’d felt it all as you fell out of the sky during your ejection. But he couldn’t live in fear, it made him a liability to his fellow pilots and he was too damn good at what he did to let this destroy his confidence.

“You have to have faith baby, faith that you’ll make it through, that I’ll make it through and that we will get that long happy life that we want. I’m not going anywhere Jake, and I need you to be my cocky asshole pilot who thinks he’s God’s gift to the navy. Go be a badass and come home to me.”

You both laughed at that, he’d grown so much from that dickish holier than thou douchebag he had been when you first met, he was so much more level headed and mature. He promised he’d fight like hell and you knew he would.

The missions were grueling, the weather had been miserable lately and it made drills almost impossible, intel was scarce and worst of all he hadn’t been able to hear your voice in weeks. He had missed Halloween and thanksgiving, both squads had joined up for a potluck and you’d sent him a bunch of pictures, he was just grateful you weren’t doing this alone. He had gotten an email from his mother earlier in the week hoping he could talk to you about staying for the Christmas holidays and he couldn’t think of a better place for you to be. You loved Christmas, it used to annoy him because it wasn’t his cup of tea but somehow you’d softened him to it. He wrote to her quickly to tell her it was a great idea and to give you a call, when he’d had a knock on his door. Fritz leaned in with a look he knew all too well, it was time to fly out. He emailed you as well, telling you he loved you and then grabbed his gear and headed for the tarmac, he could only hope he’d be able to execute this and get home safely.

You stepped off the plane in Austin on December 18th to the entire Seresin clan in the lobby, Jake’s sisters and mom rushing forward to wrap you up in hugs and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this kind of love, probably not since your grandmother had passed nearly a decade before. She would have adored Jake and his family, they spent the holiday season showing you all over town, hitting up all of Jake’s old haunts and embarrassing family pictures. Movie nights and Christmas cookie bake offs, family dinners and shopping trips with the girls; it had been so much fun and the Seresin’s had welcomed you with open arms, it felt like somehow you belonged here, the only thing missing was your 6 foot sandy blonde dreamboat boyfriend.

Correspondence had been spotty with Jake for a while, you’d gotten a FaceTime call after a mission and he had seemed grim, they’d lost a teammate to enemy fire and the weather had been abysmal, almost everyone had come down with the flu and he was miserable. He said he hoped he’d make it home by mid January and your heart broke all over again at not getting to spend Christmas together in your home, but he was adamant that the best place for you was with his family, and that next year would be a big blowout, he even agreed to let you buy any and every inflatable you wanted to cover the yard in Christmas cheer.

What you didn’t realize was that he was already on his way back to Coronado, he had coordinated with Phoenix to help him turn the house into a Christmas wonderland and would be back just in time for you to get home. He couldn’t let the ring sit any longer, he needed it on your finger now. After too many hours covering his house from top to bottom in snowflakes and Christmas lights, it was finally time for your plane to land. He was so nervous, he knew he didn’t have any reason to be, Javy had kept him up to date on when your plane landed and when he picked you up. Jake could barely sit still, so full of nervous energy knowing what was to come. Finally, he heard Javy’s truck pull into the drive and watched through the blinds as he helped you gather your luggage, even in leggings and his old UT Austin sweatshirt you looked like you’d stepped off a runway in his eyes, every bit his dream come true. This was it, when you came through the door he’d finally get to make you his forever, it had all been worth the wait.

Epilogue (Lover)

Jake Seresin masterlist

🏷️ Tagging- @mamamaystbr @mamachasesmayhem @bobgasm @attapullman @kmc1989 @pinkdaisies9285 @seitmai @seitmai-too @mrsevans90 @djs8891 @mygyn @jessicab1991 @jostan456 @86laura11 @dempy @shanimallina87 @floydsglasses @dizzybee03 @its-the-pilot @nouis-bum @roosterforme @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer

[lastbluetardis]

Sacred New Beginnings (21/?)

Summary: James Noble thought he traded away his chance at love and a happy-ever-after when he signed a contract with a record label that turned him into an international celebrity. But a chance meeting in a dive bar may prove him wrong.

Ten x Rose AU

This Chapter: Teen, ~5600 words

AO3 || Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | Ch11 | Ch12 | Ch13 | Ch14 | Ch15 | Ch16 | Ch17 | Ch18 | Ch19 | Ch20 |

johnnylumic: The gig is up! James Noble’s new bedfellow is finally revealed! [read more]

margaretblaineofficial: Breaking! James Noble and Plain Jane romance is outed! [read more]

henryvanstatten: James Noble is back to female companionship! The cad can’t seem to make up his mind.

         dianagoddardeditor: The offices of CelebriTruth would like to acknowledge James Noble has always been forthcoming regarding his sexual identity and we stand tall with the bisexual sector of the LGBTQA+ community.

               iantojonesofficial: He’s pansexual you dolt

                     nerdynardole: He’s attracted to pans??

               danthemanbartock: “Bisexual sector”?? We’re not a bloody stocks group lmao.

               masterharrysaxon: ew he likes women? lame.

                     missyursofine: ur lame

realvictorkennedy: Sources claim that James Noble’s ex-girlfriend Reinette Poisson of the up and coming film The Fireplace (in theatres January 5) is “happy” if ex is happy. Further comment was declined.

annedroidunit: No news from James Noble himself on this blossoming new romance. Should we be taking this with a grain of salt? Is everyone overreacting? [read more]

courtneywoods: Omg that’s Miss Tyler! No way. How’d she manage to snag James Noble??

         yvonnehartmanhost: This is Yvonne Hartman of London’s Hot Radio Hits. I’d love to chat more with you about Miss Tyler. She’s your schoolteacher? Could I private message you and have a chat?

               courtneywoods: Whoa, really? What’s in it for me?

                     yvonnehartmanhost: We adequately compensate all our sources, don’t you worry dear. Message coming soon.

oOoOo

James can’t sleep. No matter how many sheep he counts, or how thoroughly he cocoons himself in his blankets, he remains frustratingly awake. Beside him, Rose is curled up on her side. With how still and quiet she’s been despite his rustling, James presumes she’s happily lost in her own dreamland.

At least one of us is.

It’s nearly two in the morning when he gives up on the idea of sleep and slips out from beneath the sheets. He pulls on a discarded pair of pants and a soft, faded t-shirt before padding out of the bedroom and towards… Well, nowhere. Where is he to go, exactly? On nights like this when he’s too wound up for rest, he usually blasts music through the house and either runs on his treadmill until he’s about to collapse, or he plays his guitar in the music or living room until he lulls himself into a semi-conscious state.

Neither option is available to him though. Not with Rose in his room upstairs and his mother—who had arrived in the early afternoon just in time to see what had to be his and Rose’s thousandth game of Mario Kart—in the guest room downstairs. He sighs and putters down the steps, his footsteps making only the barest whisper of a sound.

The door to where his mum sleeps is shut, and when he presses his ear to the wood, he hears the familiar droning of her white-noise machine. Ever since he was a small child, his mother needed some sort of sound to fall asleep to. She claims her ever-present tinnitus is too loud if there is nothing else for her ears to focus on.

Satisfied, James moves to the kitchen and flicks on the dim light above the stove. It bathes the room in a muted yellow glow that casts long, alien shadows across the floor and cabinets. He’d always had a touch of insomnia, and when he was a boy, he often woke up in the middle of the night, unable to fall back to sleep. When this happened, he would go to the kitchen and turn on the light above the stove to make all sorts of puppet-creatures, entertaining himself until his mother woke up and scolded him for being awake at such an early hour.

With a small, nostalgic smile, James extends his pointer and middle fingers of his right hand and bounces a shadow bunny across the floor as he makes his way to the fridge. Though he isn’t particularly hungry, he nevertheless pulls out an apple and spends the next ten minutes slowly nibbling on the fruit as he leans against the countertop.

What a mess they’re in. Photos of him and Rose are still going viral, and Donna has received dozens upon dozens of interview requests from a variety of magazines and newspapers. She has denied each and every one of them, even those from the more reputable journals that he normally likes to interview with, claiming that he and Rose would like to be left in peace for the time being until this all blows over.

“He’ll make a statement when he’s ready,” Donna had tweeted, but to no avail; his phone is still blowing up with all sorts of notifications. He has half a mind to deactivate all of his social media and chuck his phone in the Thames for good measure.

His record label called him earlier that afternoon to inform him that they are tightening security around the recording studio and stationing more agents and officers around him and his home. They once again implored him to find a place to live that was more easily securable, as they’d been doing for the past two years as he’d grown exponentially more famous.

Maybe he’s being stupid by being so stubborn, but this is his home, the first place he was able to buy with his own money that he’d made with his own skills and talents. After years of renting grubby little flats and having all of two pieces of furniture and five outfits to his name, he finally has somewhere that’s his. A place where every need is met, and more.

But was every need being met? Wasn't basic safety part of a home?

James groans and chucks his apple core into the bin with slightly more force than necessary and rinses the sticky juice from his hands. He then grabs a bottle of expensive whiskey his label gifted him for his birthday from his liquor cabinet and sulks his way upstairs. His skin is crawling with tension, with the need to do something, anything, to keep this dark cloud from completely engulfing him, from screaming at him that he’s worthless and troublesome and a danger to those he loves.

He ends up in his music room and shuts the door behind him. As long as he isn’t banging on piano keys or beating on his guitar strings as though he needs people from the next city over to hear him, it shouldn’t be that loud, should it?

James grabs his guitar and sinks into his couch. He uncaps the whiskey bottle and glugs down a few swallows. It burns on the way down, but then pleasant warmth blooms through his belly and up his chest. He takes another drink, then balances the open bottle precariously on the sofa cushion beside him.

With how he’s slouched, he can’t really hold his guitar properly, but he makes do as best he can and starts to pluck on the strings in no particular sort of melody. He’s just playing random notes, enjoying the reverberating twang that seems to echo in his very bones.

He remembers the first time he’d held a guitar. He was thirteen and had signed up for after-school music lessons because that was the only activity that had been free. His classmates all awkwardly and clumsily held their instruments as though they were venomous vipers, but not him. The moment he held the ratty old second-hand (or third- or fourth-hand) guitar, it had become an extension of his body. Maybe it was because he was already so gangly that it made it easier for him to hold the instrument or for his fingers to fly across the fretboard to make different notes, but he took to it like a fish to water. 

He’d mastered the keys and chords nearly as fast as his teacher taught him, gulping it all down with relish. Hot Cross Buns had nothing on him, and his teacher matched him stride for stride. She gave him new music to practice, and told him that if he signed up for the school’s orchestra, he would be able to rent a guitar to take home. He’d begged his mother to let him do it, and bless her heart, she scavenged up enough money and had worked out a payment plan with the school to afford the required renter’s fees. (Apparently the school didn’t trust a bunch of stupid teenagers with hundreds of dollars’ worth of equipment… shocking.)

It wasn’t long after joining the orchestra that James asked to be taught the piano. His teacher was more than happy to oblige, and the rest was history.

He wishes his teacher could see him now. Miss Brown. Lovely Miss Brown. She’d passed years ago to complications with a health concern. James was in uni at the time. He hopes that if there is an afterlife, she can see what has become of him and know that it was all down to her that he’s made a name for himself.

James is an hour into the whiskey bottle and mindless strumming when a quiet knock sounds on the door. It opens a heartbeat later, and Rose pokes her head in. Her hair is mussed, there are pillow creases across her cheeks, and she’s got small bits of makeup clumped at the corners of her eyes. She’s the most adorable thing he’s ever seen.

But with that wave of affection comes a pang of guilt. He winces and says, “Sorry, did I wake you?”

Rose shakes her head and stays by the door, ringing her hands in front of herself. She’s wearing one of his t-shirts, which makes him smile. She looks great in his clothes, if he does say so himself.

“No, no I wasn’t really sleeping. Not much, anyways. I felt you get up, and you didn’t come back. I wanted to check on you. Are you all right?”

He shrugs. “Are either of us all right?”

A small, ironic smile quirks up her lips. “No, I suppose not. Right. I’ll just… leave you alone then.”

“No, you don’t have to go,” he blurts, because now that he knows she’s up too, he’s desperate for her company. “Please stay. Have a… have a drink with me.”

He stupidly holds up the whiskey bottle and sloshes it in her direction. “It’s vintage.”

She snorts. “I’ve no idea what that means.”

“Nor do I, but it sounded fancy.” He pats the seat next to him. “Come come.”

She does, and plops down beside him, her bare thigh brushing across his and sending his skin tingling. He takes a swig of whiskey before handing it to her. He slouches into her, taking care to rotate the guitar so the neck of it won’t impale her, and rests his head on her shoulder.

“What does m’lady wish to hear?” he asks, strumming a chord from a song he’d recorded last week.

“Anything. Everything,” she sighs, leaning her cheek onto his hair. They’re seated so intimately that a swell of safety overtakes him. Nothing can get to them in this room. The world can’t see them, can’t touch them. He yearns for that to be true.

“Have you ever played guitar?” he asks suddenly. “You fiddled with my piano a while ago, but what about guitar?”

“Once, ages ago in school. Required music class. Teacher spent two weeks teaching us guitar only for us to forget it once the unit was done.”

He laughs. “Sounds about right. Here.”

James takes the whiskey from her and leans forward to set it on the coffee table, then he passes the instrument to Rose. She looks awkward with it, and so he spends the next few minutes coaxing her arms and fingers into the proper positions. She’s still awkward, but much less so.

“You don’t need to strangle the poor thing,” he drawls, seeing how white the tips of her fingers are on the fret strings. “That’s a good way to get a blister in all of five minutes.”

Rose sticks her tongue out at him, but obliges and loosens her grip around the neck of the guitar.

“Good. Let’s learn a few chords, eh?”

Maybe it’s self-centered of him, but he teaches her a simplified version of five chords he used in one of the songs on his upcoming album. He makes sure the chords she needs to play will keep her pinkie and ring finger in one location so she only needs to keep track of two fingers. Beginners’ tutorial, and all that. He slowly helps her move her fingers along the fret to press down on the correct strings for each of the chords.

“Index and middle fingers on these two strings… then move them here… then there…”

Again and again, he works with her until she masters the chords. Rose catches on quickly, only needing slight promptings to readjust her fingers to the proper places.

“See, you’re practically a pro!” he crows when she successfully strums all five chords in succession, albeit quite slowly.

She rolls her eyes. “Come off it, this is nowhere near as complex as the music you make.”

“Not true,” he argues. “I wrote an entire song using these chords. Let me show you.”

Rose watches him curiously as he takes the instrument from her and angles himself in her direction so she has a clear view of the positionings of his fingers. He strums the notes slowly, echoing what she’d played mere seconds ago, and then steadily picks up the tempo and intensity, plucking away in a pattern that has become so familiar to him by now.

Dun, duh-duh dun, duh-duh dun, duh duh, duh-duh-duh-duh.

Down, up up down, up up down, up down, up-down-up-down.

Music fills the room, and he hums along to the lyrics he knows goes with this melody. The music is achingly gentle and soft to match the tone of the song, which is about the night he and Rose talked out their fight and agreed to start genuinely dating. The night he suspected he had fallen head-over-heels in love with her, and dared to hope she might love him, too.

He plays through the entire song, sans lyrics, too lost in the music to realize he’s gone beyond proving his point and is instead just boasting now. But Rose doesn’t seem to mind. She watches him, entranced, her eyes darting from his hands to his face. There’s an inscrutably beautiful expression on her face, awed and delighted and reverent all at once, which makes him feel like he’s created something secret and sacred that belongs to them alone.

When the song ends, she carefully leans over the guitar, cradles his cheeks in her hands, and kisses him. He sighs into her mouth, closing his eyes and letting her surround him. He sets his guitar to the side, wanting his arms to be full of her and not the wood of the instrument.

She notices his lap is empty, and takes it upon herself to fill the newly-vacated space. He groans at the heat of her around him. Her hands slip from his cheeks to tangle in his hair, scratching and tugging in the way he loves best. He’s melting, all of the black emotions from earlier having long since bled away to instead create room for this brilliant, swelling heat building between them.

There’s nowhere else he’d rather be but here, with her hands in his hair, her mouth on his, her body pressed to his. Chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat. He can feel every point of contact between, like sparks being set alight across his skin.

His dips his hands beneath her shirt—his shirt—to splay across the expanse of her back. Her skin is warm and smooth, so perfectly touchable, and he can’t help but map out the familiar territory as though it’s their first time again. Her lips and tongue tease and play with his, pulling shuddering groans from him as sensation surges through him. Her scent and her taste and her touch, that’s all he’s aware of. The world could be crumbling around them, and he would be none the wiser, nor would he care.

He holds her tightly, digging his fingertips into the skin overtop her spine as he silently pleads for more. There is an unbearable ache deep inside him, and he gasps when Rose aligns their hips to give him friction, kissing him more deeply. His lips are tingling and his body is throbbing with want, but he doesn’t want this moment to end. He wants this to build up forever, for the next second to feel even better than this current second.

She reaches down and fumbles with the hem of his shirt, tugging up, up, up until she’s able to fling it to the floor. He doesn’t get the chance to reciprocate, as she discards her own top just as quickly as his. She’s perfect, so perfect, and he can’t believe she’s his; his chest tightens, overwhelmed with the depth of this emotion he’s never truly felt before.

But then she puts his hands on her breasts and tenderness slips to the sidelines in favor of his building desire. He leans forward, away from her searching mouth to instead latch his lips onto the jut of her collarbone. She shivers in his lap and tightens her grip on his hair, a silent request for him to stay there for a little while. He obliges, kissing and nipping at her chest and neck until the skin has flared crimson. Not enough to leave any lingering evidence, but enough to mark her for the rest of the night.

When he moves away from her neck, Rose hauls his face towards hers to kiss him desperately, finesse long since gone but it still feels fucking amazing. He’s so hard now that he thinks he’s two seconds away from begging to be inside her, and yet he’s glad to stay like this, kissing her and being kissed by her.

“Want you,” she mumbles into his mouth, writhing down on the hard length of him and hissing at stimulation. “Please.”

As if she had to ask. He wraps an arm around her hips and slips his other hand down the front of her knickers. Wet heat radiates around his fingers as he carefully pushes them inside of her.

“Angle’s weird for more,” he murmurs into the side of her neck. “Fingers okay? Don’t wanna let go.”

“Fingers are fuckin’ great,” she rasps, rocking into his hand. “More. Faster.”

He smiles into her skin and picks up the pace. He anchors his arm around her waist, hugging her tightly as his other hand works between her legs, driving her higher and higher. She’s shaking against him, so close now, and he redoubles his efforts. He licks a line up her neck then kisses her right below her ear, where he knows she’s most sensitive, and grins when she softly cries out.

“James…”

He fucking loves when she says his name like this. Like there’s nothing else in her mind other than him.

“Let me see you,” he whispers.

He curls his fingers into her once, twice, three more times before she breaks. She arches, writhing herself into his hand as she trembles around him. She moans through clenched teeth, making every effort to be quiet as she rides out her high.

Expertly, he brings her down, slowing the motions of his fingers and not touching her where he knows she’s too sensitive. She lets out low groans of pleasure as she slumps into him, breathing erratically. She tucks her forehead into his neck.

A moment passes, then two, and he extricates his hand from her pants, surreptitiously wiping it on his own. He’s still achingly hard, but knows his turn will come soon. Right now, he’s happy to have his arms full of Rose.

She’s not, though. When he goes to rest his cheek in her hair, she straightens and gives him a searing, toe-curling kiss. All his patience is suddenly gone. He lets out the most undignified whine as he grabs her arse and grinds up into her. She grins into his mouth, and slowly, so fucking slowly, rubs herself up… and down… and up… until he thinks he’s going to combust right here on the couch.

“Rose,” he rasps. “I need… please… touch me…”

She keeps that infuriatingly steady pace, and part of him is annoyed, but a greater part of him is so fucking aroused and wants her to keep going as she is. She tilts his head back, using her slight height advantage from being in his lap to press him fully into the couch. He’s helpless to do anything but follow her lead, and trust her to take care of him.

“Close your eyes,” she whispers into his ear, blowing softly and sending a violent shudder through him.

He does, letting the blackness envelop him. His pulse is pounding so furiously through his body that he can see it beating behind his eyes. He rubs himself into her again, chasing that delicious friction, desperate for more.

Rose dances her fingers down his chest, scratching through the light dusting of hair on his pecs then down his belly. His muscles jump and quiver at her touch while he ruts up into her. He’s sure he could finish like this, and would be happy to, if not for wondering what Rose wanted to do to him.

Bless her, she doesn’t make him wait any longer. For a moment he’s confused as her weight shifts off his thighs, but then it settles on the cushion beside him. Her hands are at the waistband of his pants, and he wriggles to help her get them halfway down his arse, just enough to free him from the stuffy confines of the fabric.

And then she’s got her mouth on him.

James shudders out a groan and digs his nails into his palms to keep himself from thrusting up into her hot, wet mouth. He’s throbbing in time with his racing heart, and he can’t see anything through his shut eyes, but God he can feel everything. The tease of her tongue, the oh-so careful scrape of her teeth, the pressure as she sucks…

“Oh, fuck,” he croaks, his voice cracking around the word.

She covers his clenched fist, coaxing his fingers to relax, to open. He thinks she wants to hold his hand, but then she takes him by the wrist and moves his hand up until he brushes the silky locks of her hair. He opens his eyes for just a moment, and Christ the sight of her kneeling beside him, her mouth on his cock, her eyes closed in her own enjoyment… it nearly makes him come on the spot.

He holds on though, not really wanting this to end. Once he has his fingers tangled in her hair, he lets his eyes flutter shut again, happy to let his other senses surge into overdrive. He doesn’t guide her movements, knowing she doesn’t like it when men do that; instead, he relishes being able to touch her like this while she gives him the best goddamned blowjob of his goddamned life.

She gets one of her hands into the fray, playing with the base of his cock where her mouth can’t quite reach, then lower to his balls. She rolls them and squeezes them, whiting out his vision and stealing his breath. The pressure in his cock mounts, throbbing and aching in warning.

“Rose,” he gasps. “I’m gonna come.”

“‘Kay,” she mumbles around him, sucking him even harder, and Jesus fucking Christ he’s done.

Heat and electricity sizzles down his spine as he releases into her mouth, moaning and cursing and hissing wordless sounds. Rose strokes him through it, seemingly able to time her upstrokes with each pulse of his cock, heightening this pleasure into something otherworldly. It’s a good thing he’s sitting, because he can’t quite feel his legs and he thinks his knees have been replaced with jelly as he trembles and shudders through his orgasm.

When he’s done, he comes to to the sensation of Rose kissing his shoulder, her arms wrapped loosely around his hips while one of her hands idly strokes his softening cock. He shivers, sated and sleepy and so, so satisfied.

Rose tilts her head up to give him a pleased smile. “Good?”

He doesn’t deign to reply to that, and instead kisses the grin right off her face.

oOoOo

James can’t concentrate, can’t focus as he watches the clock. He and his driver dropped Rose off at her school an hour ago, where police had to set up a barricade to keep reporters away from the building. Rose’s cheeks were scarlet as she saw all of the attention around her place of employment.

“Why do they care this much about me?” she’d murmured, covering her face with her hands.

“Because they care that much about me, and I care about you,” he replied grimly, thunking his head into the back of his seat. “I’m so sorry. This is madness.”

They’d had to slowly inch through the school traffic, showing identification multiple times before Idris made it to the front of the school. Several other teachers were making their way into the building, looking both frustrated and curious about all the ruckus.

“Good luck,” he whispered, not knowing what else to say as Rose braced herself to slip out of the car. “Idris can pick you up again after work. I… I don’t think you should go home yet. You can stay with me again. If you want.”

Rose nodded silently, then drew in a deep breath. Before she opened her car door, she leaned over and kissed him. When they pulled apart, she gave him a heartbreakingly feeble smile and said, “Have a good day, dear.”

He forced his own smile for her sake, but his stomach was in knots. She had a meeting with her superiors that morning, likely demanding to know what the hell was going on. He offered to be there with her, but conceded that she was right in saying he would probably just make it worse.

That’s how he finds himself in the recording studio, sipping at a strong coffee that he doesn’t really taste and watching the clock tick aimlessly by. He asked her to let him know how her meeting went, and surely by now it should be over. It’s almost eight in the morning; the meeting can’t still be going on, can it?

But there’s no word from Rose for another hour. By now, he’s going mental, convinced she came to her senses and realized she needs to break up with him. This theory eventually evolves into some mad lunatic having broken into her school and murdered her like in one of those American crime dramas. He’d sent her a little “Hope you’re okay 💜” text a half hour ago, but the lack of response only cements these insane thoughts into his head.

Finally, at quarter-past nine, his phone lights up with a call from Rose. He answers it immediately.

“Are you okay? What happened?”

There’s nothing but a small sniffle on the other end of the line, and his stomach drops.

“Rose?” he asks, forcing his voice to remain gentle. “What happened?”

Sniffle. “M’on leave. ‘Til after the holidays. Security concern with me bein’ here right now. Can… can someone come get me? I don’t know where to go.”

“We’re on our way,” he promises, taking his phone away from his ear for a few seconds to fire off a text to his driver. “We’ll come pick you up. Are you at the school?”

“Yeah. I started for the bus stop. Wasn’t thinkin’. More photographers saw me. I ran back inside. Everyone’s lookin’ at me like… like I’m an alien.”

“Oh, Rose,” he whispers, his stomach aching for her. Idris pops her head into the office, and he mimes driving as he rushes toward her. “We’ll be there soon, all right? Stay inside. We’ll be there soon.”

He ends the call, and together, he and Idris make for the car.

“Rose?” she asks. “The school?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Bless her, Idris doesn’t ask for more details. He’s always liked that about her: she’s willing to listen to him whenever he wants to talk, but will never force him to speak when he’d prefer to stay silent. He’s had other drivers who make small talk, or ask him about whatever latest story about him went viral, but not her. He prays she never decides to quit her job.

Traffic is manageable and they make good time to the school. There are still officers posted around the school, but not quite as many. He can see reporters and photographers lingering at the café across the street, and he finds himself itching to throw hot coffee on all of them.

He takes a deep breath, forcing those awful emotions away. He’s better than that. He’s better than them. Rose doesn’t need him being angry and vengeful right now, she needs him to be steady and comforting. He can do that. He’s the steadiest person in the world…

When they get to the front door, he nearly vaults out of the car to rush into the school, but a pointedly-cleared throat and the clack of the door locks activating stops him.

“Low profile,” Idris reminds him, and he sulks for a moment, but sends Rose a text that he’s here.

She emerges a moment later, pale-faced, with nothing but a laptop bag slung over one shoulder. James opens the door for her, and slides across the empty seat to give her room. The moment she settles herself, Idris takes off again, and he unbuckles his seatbelt to take Rose into his arms. She slumps, defeated, into him, and somehow that’s even worse than tears.

She takes a few minutes to tell him about her meeting, and how ultimately the school couldn’t justify putting their students in danger while she’s facing such sudden and viral recognition.

“How could I argue with that?” Rose sighs, rubbing at her temples as though warding off a headache. “’Cos it’s true. There’re so many unauthorized strangers near the school ’cos of me.”

“Because of stupid journalists,” he corrects, but it falls flat.

“They said they’ll reevaluate over the coming weeks. I might be able to return to work in January, if things have died down a bit.”

James desperately hopes it will, for her sake. He couldn’t bear it if he’s the reason Rose loses her job.

“Surely it’s illegal to sack you because of who you’re dating,” he says.

“I’m not sacked,” she reminds him. “I’m on leave. Really, I should be happy. Gettin’ paid to stay at home…” She looks far from happy, though. “I was about to start some of my favorite books with my kids. Frankenstein. Never Let Me Go. To Kill a Mockingbird. Now someone else gets to do it with them, and all I’ve got to look forward to when I get back is bloody Shakespeare.”

“Not a fan of Shakespeare?” he quips weakly.

“Shakespeare’s fine, but not the way they make us teach it in schools, all boring and textual, when it’s supposed to be a performance to be experienced. I’ve been trying to get the school to sponsor an annual theatre trip for the kids, but of course no one wants to invest in the languages and arts anymore.”

James makes a mental note to change that going forward. Yes, he’s sure his donations to various medical research charities are being put to good use, but how much money can he say he’s donated to music and art and literature? He’s ashamed to admit to himself he doesn’t know. How awful is that, given the arts are how he makes his living.

“I’m sorry.” The words feel hollow, but what more can he say? They’re so weak compared to the ache of sorrow buffeting him. It’s because of him that Rose can’t do the job she likes. Because of him that everyone wants to get a look at her. Because of him that her life has been turned upside down.

So it surprises him when Rose immediately says, “I’m not.” She threads her fingers through his and gives them a squeeze. “This… us… what we have together, I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Wouldn’t trade you for the world.”

His throat swells shut, and all he can do is offer a weak smile and kiss her knuckles. It’s only then that he realizes Idris is absently driving through the streets of London, taking the routes she always takes whenever he asks if she can just drive him around for a while to nowhere in particular. Well, he supposes that’s right; he didn’t exactly tell Idris where to take them.

Before he makes an executive decision about their destination, he turns to Rose. “D’you wanna come see the studio?”

“Oh, I don’t want to distract you from your work.”

He waves a hand. “Nonsense. Album’s mostly recorded by now. Just a few more songs to tidy up, then it’s off to production. C’mon. Please? I think it’s “take your girlfriend to work” week.”

He shamelessly pouts, happy to see it trigger a laugh. Then she’s nodding, and they’re off.

He’s like a giddy little boy as he guides Rose into the studio. He gets her all checked in as a Very Important Guest, and apologizes when she has to sign multiple nondisclosure agreements before she’s permitted any farther.

“No unauthorized photos, videos, recordings, et cetera et cetera,” he explains, grimacing. “I’m not the only artist here. But you’ve been pretty social-media-phobic throughout our relationship, so I don’t think we have anything to worry about, eh?”

Rose is unbothered, and soon enough, she’s an official guest of James Noble. He guides her straight into his workspace, where his now-cold coffee and untouched guitar waits for him. Rose takes in the room with awe. He remembers feeling like that when he was first shown this place. It’s a large lounge space with cushy sofas and spacious desks, and half a dozen guitars resting on stands while a glossy grand piano stands proud in a corner by a window that looks out over the city. Adjacent is the recording booth, with well-insulated sound-proofed walls and a variety of microphones hanging from the ceiling. The recording booth alone is about the size his old studio flat had been.

“This is incredible,” Rose gasps, spinning slowly to take it all in.

“I’m very lucky.”

And really, he is. This office building is one of the best in the city. He and other major recording artists have their own dedicated rooms, while most other artists need to schedule appointments to use the other joint spaces. It was only after the major success of his third album that he was promoted to this room. If he ever falls from grace, he’ll be back to the shared studios.

“Have you had breakfast yet?” he asks, opening his phone to the app tied to the lovely little café in the basement of the building. “I’m a bit peckish and want a new coffee.”

“No, I haven’t. Bit too wound up to eat this morning.”

James places an order for a coffee for him and a tea for her, as well as two breakfast sandwiches to be delivered to his office. Within ten minutes, he and Rose are lounging on the couch, enjoying their breakfast in a peaceful silence.

He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous to have Rose here in the studio. It’s not like he hasn’t played for her before. But somehow it’s much more… official.

He licks his fingers of lingering bacon grease then wipes them absently on his jeans before heading to his piano. “I told you about the holiday concert I’m part of in a few weeks. I planned to start rehearsing. Just sort of… putzing around with different carols I might have to sing.”

“Might have to sing?” she asks curiously.

“Yeah, I dunno what I’ll be singing ‘til the time of the show. An online auction will go out in the week leading up to the concert. People can donate a quid to vote on a holiday song for me to perform. They can donate another quid to vote on one of my own songs for me to perform intermittently throughout the show. It’s a charity concert, remember. Gotta get the public involved somehow.”

“Bet you’ll make a killin’ after this weekend’s drama,” she drawls, a small but genuine smirk on her face.

He rolls his eyes. One of the well-meaning higher-ups of his record label told him the same thing. All of his music has been streamed more frequently this past weekend, too. Really, this bit of viral recognition has been great for him professionally; usually that thrills him, but this time it just makes him sick.

“Part of my charm is my near-perfect memory,” he continues. “For my hour of the show, we won’t know the results of the poll ‘til I get on stage and the MC dramatically reveals them. This week I was gonna work on the new album and start practicing Christmas tunes so I don’t make a complete arse of myself on stage. So lay it on me, Rose Tyler—give me something to sing.”

Time flies. No, it soars. For the first time in over forty-eight hours, neither of them is sulky or maudlin; they’re carrying on, goofing around, and singing Christmas carols. James is delighted when Rose joins in, watching in awe as she duets perfectly with him. Her voice is beautiful.

She seems to realize what she’s done, and while her cheeks flare scarlet, she doesn’t stop. He makes an effort not to stare at her, to not make her uncomfortable, but he steals glances at every possible moment. He tries to make her laugh as often as he can too, embellishing his voice to near operatic proportions or giving himself silly little accents as he sings. The one that makes her laugh the hardest is a Southern American twang, and he falls back to it a few times.

Lunchtime comes and goes without them realizing it. They’re left alone for the day, to his relief. Professional courtesy, and all that. God, what an awful world it would be if all of his fellow celebrities were as nosey and gossipy as the paparazzi.

It’s mid-afternoon when he suggests they pack it in for the day. Rose gets up from where she’s sitting cross-legged on the couch, bounds over to him, and throws her arms around him. He catches her, confused but very accepting of this affection, and he holds her tightly.

“Thank you. This morning was… well, kind of awful. But this afternoon was perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

He melts, and buries his nose into the side of her neck, breathing her in. “One day at a time. Baby steps.”

“Baby steps,” she agrees, squeezing him harder and making no move to let go.

He doesn’t mind in the slightest. He rocks them slowly from side to side, rubbing long, slow strokes down her back and enjoying this perfect moment of peace. Everything is quiet. Everything is good.

And James thinks, dreams, dares to hope that maybe, just maybe, they can make this work.

[mimok]

Where the River Remembers

A girl in pink walks the ghats, where morning prayers whisper into the light. She winds her way between color and cloth, life drying in rows by the sacred Ganges. The river does not forget. It carries the ashes of burning hopes, the chants of the old, the laughter of children, the weight of belief. Here, every ripple is a hymn. Every breath, a thread in the tapestry of…

[talispraisekink]

making a long list of post canon headcanons i have for jayce n viktor and i cannot stop thinking about jayce being very touch starved and having difficulty communicating after everything

[nyesaku]

everyone go read electrostatic potential, sacred new beginnings, one crowded hour, chasing the aurora and a leap of faith because these fics are sexy af. and stan tenrose and rose tyler ✌️

[anxiouscherubs]

find you in my heart

✦ summary: the one where you get dumped and your best friend is there to help you realize what you truly deserve… what’s been in front of you all along.

✦ warnings/tags: MDNI! 18+, explicit, smut, slight angst, some fluff, oral sex (f receiving), oral sex (m receiving), fingering, throat fucking, big dick yh, unprotected sex (be safe!), yh is desperately in love, best friends to lovers, mutual pining, mentions of cheating (past relationships), yh and reader met as baristas, pet names, au where jeong yunho can actually cook, yunho is a lil possessive

✦ pairing: nonidol!yunho x reader

✦ author’s note: as a yunho ult, a yh best friends to lovers has been at the top of my list of things to write. i started this fic after yun posted these photos because i just could not get the vision of late night walks with him out of my head! i am new to writing so any feedback is appreciated. i hope you enjoy ♡ as always, thank you to my lovely best friends for enabling me and proofreading my depravity. love you guys forever. ♡

✦ word count: 12.9k

✦ read it on ao3: here

Two years. Two years down the drain because your ex decided he “wasn’t feeling it anymore.” You had a sneaking suspicion his change of heart had to do with his hot new coworker, but you couldn’t think too far into it or it would rip you apart more than he already had. 

He had grown distant, and you chalked it up to the stress of his new job. But when he started staying late every other day and missing your sacred Thursday date nights, you knew it was the beginning of the end. You were happy together (most of the time), but you were never certain you could see yourself spending the rest of your life with him. There were certain things about him that you tolerated, but you wanted your forever to be spent with someone who felt perfect for you. And he… didn’t.

Even though you knew he wasn’t who you’d spend your life with, it stung just the same to receive his messages. 

loser: hey y/n… i’ve been thinking about this for a while now but i think it’s time for us to part ways. 

loser: we’ve had a good run, but i’m just not really feeling it anymore. i hope you understand. 

loser: wish you the best. xx 

You’d changed his contact and blocked his number immediately, saving yourself from the hurtful words he’d throw your way if you tried to ask for any reasoning or clarification. He always turned into a different person the moment you tried to express your emotions. 

“She’s just a coworker, y/n, stop being crazy. You don’t have to worry about her.” 

You push his words out of your brain again before they take over. So what if he left you for her? They probably deserve each other. You knew you were better off, that wasn’t the issue. It was that you settled for two years, letting this man who clearly didn’t respect you treat you like an afterthought the entire time. The more you think about it, the more you blame yourself for placing such little value on your own time and energy. 

You sit on your couch, your coffee table littered with tear-soaked tissues and instant ramen cups. You haven’t  left the house since you got The Texts last night, and you've watched a season of your favorite crime show and eaten your body weight in Buldak since then. You know you can’t sit here and wallow anymore or you’ll start to lose your mind, so you drag yourself to the bathroom to assess the damage. Eyes red and puffy from crying, hair tangled and tied loosely in a scrunchie, tear drops lingering on the same sweatshirt you’d been wearing for the last 24 hours. You look like hell. 

“I need to get out of this apartment,” you say to yourself. You pull out your phone and send a quick text to your best friend before hopping in the shower. After washing your hair 3 times, shaving your legs, and exfoliating the sadness away, you’re finally starting to feel human again. You wrap yourself in your favorite towel before checking your phone again. 

y/n: yunnie… are you free tonight? 

yunho: for you? absolutely. you ok? haven’t heard from you all day.

Of course he’d notice you going MIA for a day. You and your best friend texted every single day, sending quick little updates or funny videos. He’d probably been worried sick, but he never wants to pry. He’s always respected your space like that. 

y/n: long story. i’ll explain later. 

y/n: meet me in front of blossom in 30? 

Blossom was the cafe you and Yunho met working at. You were both burning the candle at both ends working nearly full time as baristas during your senior year of college. Your closing shifts together kept you sane during finals, blasting music and sharing your life stories while you cleaned up the shop. He’d even walk you home, after every closing shift, never wanting to let you walk alone so late. You both gave your two weeks notice right after graduation, but promised each other you’d make up for all the time you wouldn’t spend working together anymore. 

That was four years ago, and he’d been such a stable presence in your life since then. You’d grown closer over the years, spending countless movie nights and BBQ dates together. He knew everything about you (after a movie night with too much wine and lots of oversharing) and hadn’t gone running for the hills, so you knew he really cared. You didn’t really have time to make friends in college because you were either working, in class, or studying, so he was really all you had. He was your safe space. You both stayed close by after graduation, staying in your apartments in the city 2 blocks from the cafe on either side. It was nice having your best friend so close by, and the cafe remained a staple in your friendship as a middle point between your two homes. In your reminiscing, you realize you missed your Saturday morning coffee date with him. 

yunho: of course, bean. i missed you this morning. 

Your heart fluttered in your chest at the nickname. It always does. That, and when he calls you sweetheart. Your heart almost came up your throat the first time he pulled that one. Yunho started calling you bean after you spilled an entire bag of light roast on the cafe floor trying to refill the hopper for the openers. He’ll never let you live that one down. You remembered giggling and scooping coffee beans off the floor on your hands and knees together, his hand brushing over yours when you both reached for the dustpan, your eyes meeting, breath quickening… 

You shake the memory from your brain, coming back to reality just as you both had snapped out of it in the moment four years ago, scattering to finish cleaning up and avoiding eye contact the rest of the night. You always dismissed the electricity you felt when his skin touched yours, blaming the exhaustion from working a closing shift after being up all night studying. He had a girlfriend at the time, he wouldn’t have been interested in you that way anyway. He’s your friend, y/n, be realistic. You’re reaching. You send another quick text before getting dressed, and he of course responds right away. 

y/n: i missed you too, i’m sorry i should’ve texted. it’s been a shitty 24 hours. i’ll see you soon 

yunho: no need to apologize. i’ll be there, see you in a bit. 

25 minutes pass and you somehow manage to make yourself look somewhat presentable. You dried your hair and pulled half of it up in a claw clip, leaving some pieces out to frame your face. You threw on some concealer and a bit of blush, trying to hide how puffy your eyes still were. It was a chilly fall night, so you opted for your favorite pair of light wash jeans and an oversized black sweater, accompanied by your beat up black chelsea boots and your gray wool coat. 

After a quick 5 minute walk you round the corner to see Yunho standing in front of the cafe, his back facing you. Of course he’s right on time. His broad shoulders fill out the black jacket he’s wearing, his crossbody bag tucked under his arm. The neon sign in the cafe window leaves a purple hue reflecting off his freshly dyed dark gray hair. He turns his head at a car passing by, and you catch yourself smiling at the lost puppy look in his eyes. He must’ve seen you approaching in his peripheral, his head snapping in your direction. A subtle smile plays on his lips as he locks eyes with you. His warm brown eyes are full of an emotion you can’t quite name. 

Your chest aches at the realization that your ex, in the two years you were together, never looked at you like that. Why did you ever think you were important to him? Your throat suddenly tightens and your vision starts to blur, tears welling in your eyes for the millionth time today. Yunho’s smile drops, his brow furrowing as he takes two long strides to meet you. 

“Y/n, what is it, what happened?” He reaches for your shoulders to hold you steady, but you push forward to bury your face in his chest. He wraps his arms around you without hesitation, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other snakes around your shoulders. Your hands find his waist, gripping his shirt underneath his jacket. His familiar scent of jasmine envelops you, and you realize how badly you needed your best friend to help you through this.

”H-He dumped me,” you sniffle, letting out a shaky breath into Yunho’s chest, “he d-dumped me yesterday, through a fucking t-text message,”  another unsteady exhale as you try to level your breathing. 

“He did what?!” He pulls you in closer to him, the disbelief lacing his tone reassuring how rational your feelings are.

“It’s over,” you blink away your tears, tilting your head back to look up at your best friend. You’ve never seen the expression on his face before, like anger and worry are battling it out in his brain, and he can’t decide which one should take center stage first. “He texted me last night, saying he ‘wasn’t feeling it anymore’ and he ‘wished me the best,’” your mocking tone repeating his words reignited the angry flame in your chest. 

“Wished you the best,” he scoffs, “is he kidding?” He rolls his eyes.  “That’s how you end a two-year-long relationship?” He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, taking a half step back to give you some more space to catch your breath.  

“I can’t believe I wasted two years of my life with someone who just kicked me to the curb without a second thought,” you pinch the fabric of his shirt between your fingers, your eyes lingering on his collarbone peeking out from his slightly unbuttoned shirt. “I’m convinced he left me for a coworker, the one he told me not to worry about.” A humorless laugh leaves your lips, the burning feeling behind your eyes returning as more tears come. “I’m more upset with myself for letting him treat me like this for so long,”

“Hey, look at me,” Yunho cautiously brings his hands to your face, cradling your head gently. You lean into his touch, dragging your gaze up to meet his.

“He doesn’t know what he just threw away, sweetheart,” Yunho holds your teary cheeks in his hands. “You are the most beautiful creature this world has ever seen, and if he doesn’t see that, he doesn’t deserve you.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” You choke out between sniffles. 

“Oh y/n… of course I do. I always have,” he wipes a tear from your cheek before it reaches your lips, “since the day I met you.” 

Your breath catches in your throat at his admission, your chin wobbling as you try to hold it together. 

His eyes search yours, that unspoken emotion taking over his features again. You almost catch the moment he shakes it away, reminding himself that he’s here to support you. His hands fall from your cheeks to grab your hands instead, that familiar electricity prickling your skin as he rubs his thumbs over your knuckles. 

“Do you wanna go inside? I called ahead and ordered you a maple latte and a raspberry scone as soon as I got your text.” He tilts his head in the direction of the cafe next to you. 

You look inside to see two to-go cups and a brown paper bag sitting on the counter. “And an iced caramel latte for you, I’m assuming,” you poke his stomach teasingly, “thank you, Yun, you didn’t have to do that.” 

“Of course I did,” he gently squeezes your hands, a warm smile taking over his features. “Come on, it seems like we have a lot to catch up on. I have a feeling you have a lot to get off your chest.” He lets go of one hand, keeping hold of the other to walk you to the door. You lace your fingers through his, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

You’d spent the last hour sitting in your favorite booth with Yunho, hashing through every single thing you hated about your ex. He was appalled by the things you’d told him, wishing he knew sooner so he could’ve tried to help you see you deserve someone better. Someone who valued your emotions, understood your needs, respected your boundaries… Someone like — 

“Yunho, are you with me?” Your voice shakes him out of his daze, bringing him back to the conversation.

“Sorry bean, I just can’t believe he was such an asshole behind closed doors,” he recovers, “I wish you told me sooner. I feel like I wasn’t there for you when I should’ve been.”

”It’s not your fault, I could’ve told you and I didn’t. I think I was in denial,” you scoff. ”I was settling and I knew it, I was just trying to pretend things were better, but I think I’d been checked out for a while.” You swirl your coffee around in your cup, avoiding the concerned look in his eye. If you looked at him too long, you’d risk reading something deeper in the way he cares about you, something that made your heart flutter and ache all at once.

”Y/n, do you remember the girl I was dating when we met?” His tone shifts, a slight vulnerability creeping in. You stop moving your cup, watching the drink settle. You nod hesitantly, still avoiding his eyes. 

Of course you remember her. You had developed a crush on Yunho in your first week working together, but you had to smother it at the first mention of her. Any hope you had left for a chance with him disintegrated the first time you saw her — she was the kind of beautiful you only saw on TV. Flawless skin, no split ends, a perfectly sculpted body. Even her voice was smooth. She seemed perfect for him. 

“She cheated on me.” 

Your head snaps up to him in disbelief. “Excuse me?” 

You remember him telling you they broke up in passing — it had been a month after you started a relationship of your own. Part of you always wondered if you had just missed your window to pursue something with Yunho, but you pushed that thought out of your head so you could be present for your best friend. He didn’t want to go into detail about the breakup at the time, and he never did in the two years that followed. 

“For the last six months of our relationship, she’d been sleeping with someone she reconnected with from high school. They realized they loved each other, and she ended things.” He offers a sad smile, but the bitterness lingers beneath the surface. You feel a tightness in your chest wondering why he didn’t want to share his pain with you while all of this was going on.  

”Oh, Yunnie,” you reach for his hand across the table, holding his large palm in yours. “I’m so sorry. I don’t understand how anyone could ever do that to you. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Maybe we can call it even?” He lets out a breathy laugh, ignoring your question. “You didn’t tell me your relationship troubles, I didn’t tell you mine. Now it’s all on the table and we can leave it in the past.” He squeezes your hand, waiting for your response. 

“Fine.” You flash a tight lipped smile, wanting to hash this open again with him at a later time. You didn’t keep secrets from each other, so why was he avoiding getting into this with you? 

“Well, it’s almost closing time.” Of course he’s gonna change the subject. “Do you need a night alone or are you coming home with me tonight?” He forces a smile from across the table, and you could’ve sworn his ears turned the slightest bit red asking you to spend the night. Sleepovers weren’t out of the norm for the two of you, but this proposal felt different for some reason. 

“I think if I’m alone at my place tonight I’ll revert to the sad couch potato I was before I texted you earlier.” You don’t really believe that, feeling like you’ve moved past the depression stage of grief and slowly inching toward acceptance. But you still wanted the company. 

“I’d love to come home with you, Yunnie.”

“Then let’s go, sweetheart.” 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Your neighborhood was so beautiful at night. The soft streetlights cast a gentle glow on the sidewalk, illuminating little puddles of water from last night’s rain. The fall air feels cool and crisp, carrying the faint smell of the changing leaves. This late at night, the stillness is calming… usually. 

You two had found this to be the perfect environment to have your deepest talks. Taking regular nighttime walks with Yunho had become one of your cherished rituals, especially when one of you needed to get something off your chest. You’d shared fragments of your lives, from your family drama to his frequent arguments with a stubborn coworker at his new job. But tonight, a suffocating silence swirls around you. 

You’d taken a full lap around the neighborhood in silence since leaving Blossom, the familiar path devoid of your usual chatter. As you approach Yunho’s place, his brisk pace and hands shoved deep in his pockets told you he wasn’t going to be the one to acknowledge it. He was never one for confrontation. If he wouldn’t tell you what’s going on voluntarily, you’d have to coax it out of him.   

You stop walking, the cool air feeling sharper on your skin. He takes three more strides before he stops too, spinning back around to face you, confusion etched on his devastatingly handsome features.

“You okay, bean?” he asks, tilting his head at you, genuine concern flickering in his eyes. 

“I feel like I should be asking you the same thing,” you reply, barely above a whisper. Maybe you weren’t one for confrontation either. 

He takes a step closer to you, “I’m fine,” he says with a quick shrug and a slight shake of his head. 

“Then why haven’t you spoken to me since we left Blossom? Did I say something to upset you?” You try your hardest to grab your frustration before it bubbles up, but you can already tell it’s too late. His dismissive tone, both here and at the cafe, gnaws at you. It triggers something inside of you from your recently ended relationship, and you feel on the verge of either shutting down or letting your emotions spiral.  

“I just thought you might want a quiet walk is all.” He can barely look you in the eye, and that’s when you know something is very wrong. 

“Come on Yun, you know that’s not what’s going on. Something is bothering you.” The frustration claws higher and higher, an unwelcome tightness gripping at your chest. Don’t cry, y/n.

He opens his mouth, the words hanging on the tip of his tongue, but stops himself, his hands finally pulling from his pockets to rest on his hips. He stares at a fallen leaf swirling in a puddle between you. 

“Is it because we talked about your ex?” He winces just a little at your words. “I didn’t mean to open old wounds, I just thought after everything we’ve shared with each other that you’d want to talk to me about it.” You don’t mean for your words to sound accusatory, but based on the way his body tenses, you realize they must have. 

“It’s not that, y/n, it’s not about…” his voice trails off into a sigh. His eyes search yours, his mind racing trying to decide if he wants to get into what’s really going on, what he’s been keeping inside for so long. 

“Then what is it?” You’re grasping at straws, desperately trying to get him to give you anything to go off of. When you’re met with more silence and an indiscernible look in his eyes, you push forward.

“I just don’t get why you wouldn’t tell me she cheated on you Yun, we help each other through everything.” Anger wells up in you, more at yourself for not asking him to open up to you about it at the time. 

“Y/n, please, it’s more complicated than just her cheating, and I just don’t know if now is the best time to get into it, you’re still—”

“Still what, Yunho? Grieving my own relationship? Just because I just got dumped doesn’t mean I can’t be here for you!” Your voice rises, each word sharp, the tension in your throat threatening to break. “You don’t get to decide what I can and can’t handle, that’s not up to you—”

“Fine,” he interrupts, “do you wanna know the real reason I didn’t tell you, y/n? Is that what you want?” His ears redden, and you can’t tell if he’s angry, embarrassed, or a combination of the two. You nod hesitantly. “I didn’t tell you she cheated because I didn’t care, okay? I didn’t care. Her heart wasn’t in it anymore, but neither was mine.” His chest heaves, squeezing his eyes shut tight for a brief moment to brace himself. 

“I didn’t care that she cheated, because I didn’t want her anyway.” He lets out a shaky breath. “I wanted you.” 

Oh. 

Oh. 

His eyes burn into yours as his words hang in the air between the two of you. 

“Yunho…” You take a step toward him only for him to take a step back. Your heart is pounding so hard in your chest, you wonder if he can hear it. What is happening right now?

“I’m sorry y/n, I can’t keep it to myself anymore. I’ve held it in for so long, and I just can’t do it anymore, I—” He stutters over his words, “I wasn’t grieving my relationship, I was grieving yours. You found someone just before she ended things with me, and I realized maybe you and I weren’t meant to be. That we’d never have the chance to try.” His eyes gloss over with pent up emotion, thinking about all the time he spent wondering what could’ve been. “I wanted you, but I had to act like I didn’t, and we were becoming such good friends, I didn’t want to ruin it, I just—” 

”Did you think I didn’t feel the same?” You interrupt him. “That I don’t feel the same now?” 

He tilts his head at you, the tension in his body visibly disintegrating. “What are you saying?” Brows furrowing, cheeks blushing, so many emotions flying through his features at a speed neither of you can process. He runs his hands down his face before resting them on his hips. “Sweetheart, what are you saying?” 

“I wanted you, too, Yun…” The words tumble out of you, a rush of honesty that feels both exhilarating and terrifying. “I want you too.”

He takes another step toward you, his mind racing as he searches for answers to never ending questions. “You did?” Another step. “You do?” 

“Yes, and yes,” you nod, feeling warmth flood your cheeks at your admission—both to Yunho and to you. You realize you’d never said it out loud before, not even to yourself. 

“Say it again,” he urges, closing the gap between the two of you. One hand finds your waist while the other gently cradles the back of your neck. His touch lights a fire on your skin, his hands feeling heavier on your body than they ever have before. Your hands find their way to his waist, tugging him closer to you. Chests heaving, hearts racing.

“I want you, Yunho.”  

The tension between you peaks, your grip tightening on one another, like if either one of you lets go, the moment will slip away. Yunho’s eyes search yours, looking for confirmation. 

He gently cups your face, his thumb brushing your cheek, wiping away the remnants of your tears. His touch sends a shiver down your spine, igniting the familiar spark that had always lingered between the two of you. Your breath hitches in your throat, caught between the fear of moving too fast and the undeniable pull you have always felt towards him. 

You bring a hand up to his cheek, your fingers gliding over his skin, feeling the warmth radiating from him. You linger for a moment before wrapping your fingers around the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you. 

“Y/n,” he whispers, “sweetheart,”  his gaze drops to your lips, and you swear you can hear your hearts beating in time with one another in the quiet. 

You take a deep breath, searching his gaze for the same spark of desire you feel coursing through your body. He inches closer, breath mingling with yours, heating the space between you.

“Is this okay?” he asks softly, his voice trembling slightly. 

You nod, breathless, as you lean in just enough to finally close the distance between the two of you. 

The tip of his nose brushes against yours, the contact making your head spin. You’ve thought about this moment countless times, and being here feels so right.

“Yunho,” you breathe, “please kiss me alr—“

His mouth molds to yours before you can finish your sentence, pulling all the remaining air from your lungs. The world around you explodes in a flash of warmth and tenderness, all the hurt you had been feeling melting away into a puddle at your feet.

You feel a rush of emotions— relief, joy, and a deep, intoxicating desire— as he deepens the kiss. Your hands tighten around the back of his neck, pulling him closer as he sweeps his tongue across your bottom lip. You lose yourself in the sensation, the taste of him and the feeling of his lips on yours erasing everything else you’ve ever felt. 

His fingers tangle in your hair, holding you as if you might disappear. This moment, this kiss, feels like a declaration— a culmination of all the unspoken words, the hidden glances, the years of longing between the two of you. It’s exhilarating.

He finally pulls away, resting his forehead against yours, your heavy breaths the only sounds on the quiet street. Your hands slide from his neck, traveling down his chest before settling on his waist. 

“Sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean to cut you off,” he chuckles, brushing a strand of hair from your face, “I’ve just been waiting a really long time to do that.” He drops a gentle kiss to your forehead before wrapping his arms around you to pull you close. 

“You can cut me off anytime if it means I get to kiss you,” you nuzzle into his chest. The steady thud of his heartbeat slows yours to match. 

“Oh yeah?” He looks down at you, a teasing glint in his eyes. 

“Yes, abso—“

His lips connect to yours again, a fire igniting in your belly when his tongue tangles with yours. He tastes like caramel, the sweetness of his latte lingering on his tongue. Wide hands wrap around your hips, dragging you closer, rolling your body into him. 

You snake your hands up his lower back, digging your nails into his skin through his shirt. A low groan rumbles deep in Yunho’s throat at the sensation, sending a bolt of heat straight to your core. A whimper crawls up your throat before you can stop it, and Yunho smiles against your mouth. He draws your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down gently. 

“Your lips are even softer than I imagined they’d be,” he gives you one more lingering kiss before pulling back. His deep eyes find yours, his blushed cheeks glowing under the streetlights. 

“You’ve imagined kissing me?” Shyness creeps in at the realization that Yunho thought about you in the same way you thought about him. 

“Among other things, yes,” he brushes your hair out of your face, his palm settling to cup your cheek. “You’re cute when you blush.” 

“I am not blushing!” You hide your face in your hands. “Maybe I am, but how can I not when you talk to me like that,” you muffle into your palms. 

“I’ll talk to you any way you want if it means you’ll react like this,” he teases, gently pulling your hands from your face to hold them in his. “Your hands are freezing, sweetheart,” he brings your hands to his mouth, holding them between his and blowing his hot breath onto them to warm them up.

”Well we have been out here a while,” you shiver at the feeling of his breath on your skin. 

“Am I still allowed to take you home tonight, or would that complicate things?” He’s either nervous, or hesitant. Either would make sense, you just got dumped and 24 hours later you’re confessing your feelings for your best friend (and kissing him). Anyone with a brain might wonder if you’re rushing, or worse, rebounding. Once you get out of this cold, you can talk things through. 

“Yes, please, let’s go.” You take his hand in yours, kissing his knuckles before pulling him in the direction of his place.

“You got it, baby.” He slings an arm over your shoulder, planting a kiss to the top of your head. Your heart flutters as you walk toward his apartment. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

As soon as you walk through Yunho’s front door, he breezes past you to grab two wine glasses and a bottle of your favorite rosé while you kick off your boots. As you shed your jacket, he sets two full glasses on his simple wooden coffee table, heading back to his kitchen to grab a bag of chips and some chocolates. He returns with his hands full, confusion lacing his features when he finds you standing in the middle of his living room stifling a laugh. 

“Is something funny?” He chuckles at your reddening cheeks as you let out a giggle. 

“When did you get so nervous to have me in your apartment?” Part of you feels bad for teasing, but he looks so cute when he’s flustered, you can’t help it. “I’ve never seen you move so fast to get me a glass of wine.” 

“Well, when you decide to tell me you want me in the middle of the street, that tends to change things, baby,” he grins at you, clocking you for the second time now having a physical reaction to his newest pet name for you. You thought sweetheart sounded beautiful coming out of his mouth, but baby is a whole new level of intoxicating.

”You said it first, but I guess that does change things, huh, baby?” You cross your arms, challenging him. “Do I make you nervous, Jeong Yunho?” 

“You make me a lot of things, sweetheart, but nervous isn’t one of them.” He pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, the gesture making your head spin. After setting your snacks down on the coffee table, he finally takes off his jacket and kicks off his shoes. He plops down on his couch, patting the empty cushion next to him. “Come sit with me,” the deep, inviting tone of his voice has you moving to him immediately. Grabbing your wine, you sit next to him, folding one leg up onto the couch to turn to face him. He copies your position, his knee resting just an inch from yours. 

“What do I make you feel, then?” You swirl your wine in your glass as your gaze flicks over his handsome features. Landing on his eyes, your heart jumps at the way they shine for you. 

“Fulfilled,” he starts, scooting closer to you so your knees are just barely touching. “Cared for, understood,” the corner of his mouth quirks up slightly, “and loved.” 

A bloom of warmth floods your chest at the word. This is what you’ve been missing the last few years. You thought your ex would give you this sense of gratification if you gave him more time, but what you were searching for was in your best friend. You always knew in the back of your mind that it was him. The one who held you when you cried, who made you laugh until your stomach hurt, who would drop everything to be there when you needed him. You take a big sip of your wine. 

“I was settling,” the words fall off your lips before you can stop them, the alcohol warming your cheeks right away. “I thought that if I kept giving him everything he would eventually give me half of what I was craving, but in the back of my mind I think I knew he’d never be what I really needed… I settled for him.” 

Yunho offers a soft nod, zero judgment, only understanding. “And what is it you were craving?” He moves even closer to you, your shins now pressed together. 

“You,” you sigh, his deep eyes boring into yours, waiting for more. You tap your fingers on your wine glass, contemplating your next words. “The connection, the comfort, the joy, the love that you gave me,” your throat tightens thinking about the nights you spent longing for your best friend. “I wanted you, how you made me feel…but I settled for him.” 

“Right person, wrong time,” Yunho scoffs, a gentle shake of his head, “kind of applies to us, right? We’ve wanted each other for years now, but we just never had the chance.”

“I should’ve told you sooner, Yun,” your hand rests on his, his fingers immediately lacing between yours. “We’ve wasted so much time,” hot tears blur your vision, but you blink them away before they fall.

“Hey, we have all the time in the world, baby,” he brings your hand to his mouth, planting a gentle kiss on your knuckles. “All the time in the world,” he muffles against your skin. You turn your palm to hold his cheek, and you notice his eyes roll back before they flutter closed.

“All the time in the world,” you repeat, threading your fingers into his hair. A future with Yunho flashes through your mind. Lazy Sunday mornings, celebrating milestones and holidays together, late nights tangled in the sheets, his body taking over yours — 

“Y/n…” His deep, smooth voice brings you back to the moment, the sound of your name on his lips heating your cheeks. 

“Hm?” 

He gently takes your wine glass from your hand, setting it on the coffee table next to his untouched one. When his eyes find yours again, warmth pools in your belly at the darkness that’s taken over his features. “I really want to kiss you again, but I feel like we should talk first,” he takes both your hands in his, and your heart pounds a beat faster in your chest. “If you spend the night tonight, there’s no going back. Once I have you, I don’t think I can let you go.” 

“I don’t want you to let me go, Yun,” you squeeze his hands in yours. “I’ve waited too long to get here, I don’t wanna go back… You already have me, don’t let me go.” The thudding in your rib cage intensifies with every second of heated silence.

“I couldn’t if I tried,” he finally says, pulling you in, crashing his lips into yours. His hands find your waist, his tongue exploring your mouth, and you wrap your arms around his neck as he pulls you into his lap. You straddle him, resting your knees on either side of his hips, deepening the kiss as his hands wander to cup your ass, pulling you closer to him. You roll your hips against him, his grip tightening on you as he drags your body over him. A groan rumbles in his chest and you feel his cock stiffening beneath you, grinding on him slower and harder. 

“I can’t believe you’re finally mine,” Yuhho’s hand snakes up your back and into your hair, gently removing your clip and tossing it to the floor before gripping your locks and tilting your head to the side, exposing the sensitive column of your neck to his mouth. He nips at your skin, licking the spot with his tongue, moving up to the tender spot under your ear. “My beautiful girl,” his hot breath in your ear has your entire body blooming with goosebumps.

”Yunho,” you roll your hips over him again as his lips travel down your neck to your collarbone, a whimper crawling up your throat at your rough jeans catching on your swelling clit. He feels harder and harder underneath you with each rock against him, and you’re cursing yourself for wearing such thick pants. You just want to feel him. 

“Yes, sweetheart?” He tightens his grip on your hair, kissing back up your neck until his lips connect with yours again. You moan into his mouth as his other hand guides your hips back and forth, shamelessly grinding your bodies against each other like horny teenagers. 

“Touch me please,” you beg, catching his bottom lip between your teeth, sucking on it gently. 

“Only because you asked so nicely,” he teases. He snakes an arm around your waist and smoothly rolls you onto your back, laying you down in the soft cushions. He kneels, settling between your legs, spreading them wide to roll his hips into your needy clothed core. His mouth finds yours again, tangling his tongue with yours.

The hand in your hair loosens, trailing down your body, ghosting over your breasts, down your belly, and lifting your sweater slightly to get to your jeans. He makes light work of the button and zipper, his nimble fingers undoing the fastenings with ease, all while keeping his mouth on yours. You feel him tapping on your ass, signaling you to lift your hips. When you do, he shimmies your jeans down your legs agonizingly slowly, breaking the kiss to admire the bits of your skin he’s dreamt about for years. 

He tosses your jeans on his living room floor, and a timidity slithers up at the realization that you’re in your underwear on your best friend’s couch.  His broad hands rest on your thighs, letting you close them slightly, your shared shuddering breaths the only sound in his quiet apartment. 

“Getting shy on me, sweetheart?” He teases you, reading your mind. He knows you so well. You giggle as he slides his hands to your sweater, dragging it up your body, exposing your panties, shifting it higher and higher until the bottom hem of your bra is barely showing. He slides his hands under your top, expertly cradling your bra-clad breasts in his hands, letting out a restrained groan. The energy shifts and you whimper, watching his eyes locked on the way his fingers swim beneath the fabric of your sweater. You let your legs fall open slightly as Yunho slots himself between them, peppering your belly with gentle kisses and thumbing one of your pebbling nipples through the thin material of your bra. 

“Yun…” you sigh, running your fingers through his hair as he kisses you lower and lower, “please,” 

“Mhm,” he nods against your soft skin, shifting down to lay on his belly between your legs, hooking your knees over his shoulders. You feel his searing breath over your pussy, cooling the growing wet patch in your panties, making you clench around nothing. He picks up on your reaction, gripping your hips before blowing a steady stream of air over your sensitive heat. 

“Oh,” you breathe, wriggling under his strong grasp, spreading your legs wider for him. 

“You’re so reactive,” he murmurs, biting down on your inner thigh, soothing the spot with his tongue. You yelp at the sensation, covering your mouth in shock of the sound that just came out of you. Yunho chuckles darkly, “don’t hold back, baby, I wanna hear all the noises you make.” 

He hooks an arm over your hip so his hand rests on your mound. He grips your panties in his fist, pulling them up until the fabric slips between your wet folds, gliding firmly over your clit. You stifle a sob as he tugs them harder, biting you once more. 

“I thought I told you not to hold back, sweetheart,” he licks your skin again, soothing the angry bite mark that will surely be bruised by morning. Another tug of your panties has you mewling, one hand gripping his hair for dear life, the other blindly searching for anything to ground you. 

“Yunnie, please, stop teasing me,” you never thought your sweet and wholesome best friend could have you whimpering and begging beneath him, hardly having touched you. He has such a dark, dominating presence about him in this moment, and it’s making your head fuzzy. 

He lets go of your panties, swiftly pulling them to the side, exposing your wet heat to the cool air. You suck in a sharp inhale, finally bare to him.

“Fuck,” he moans, “look at you, baby,” he runs two fingers through your heat, the sudden contact making you cry out. He spreads you wide to see every inch of you, taking his time. “So pretty,” he breathes. 

“I need you, please,” you whine, “are you gonna make me keep begging?” 

“Baby, I’ve wanted to touch you like this for years,” he drawls, “let me savor it a little.” Before you can protest, he teases your entrance with two fingers, slowly thrusting them deeper and deeper inside you, little by little, until his palm is flush with your cunt. Your head falls back into the cushions, your chest heaving. You had daydreamed about how his fingers would feel inside of you, but nothing compares to the real thing. He pumps in and out a few more times before he curls his fingers, hitting the spot that makes your back arch. You grip his hair, tugging on it harder than you mean to, but you can’t help it. You miss the way his eyes roll back, his mouth hanging open at the pain. 

Yunho lets you guide his mouth to your core, his fingers keeping a steady pace as he uses his free hand to spread you open, swirling his tongue around your clit. 

“Yunnie…” you whimper, grinding your hips on his mouth. He nods against you, sucking your clit into his mouth, rolling his tongue over the swollen bud over and over in time with his fingers moving in and out of you. Pleasure blooms in your belly as he works you, each flick of his tongue bringing you closer to the edge. 

“Feeling good, sweetheart?” He replaces his tongue with his thumb, circling your clit softly to ease you into the sensation. You push yourself down into his hand, needing more. He chuckles, applying more pressure until he feels you melting under him.

“Yes, so good Yun, fuck,” the pressure low in your belly builds rapidly, and you know if he keeps going at this pace, you’ll fall apart in no time. You prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him, and once your eyes lock with his you know you’re a goner. 

His hair is mussed from your tugging on it, his cheeks flushed, his mouth glistening, a bead of sweat dripping down his temple as he picks up the pace ever so slightly. He smirks at you, letting your legs fall from his shoulders so he can kneel between them again, sitting back to get a good look at you, never slowing his ministrations. You make the mistake of glancing down, your mouth drying at the sight of his cock pressing against the confines of his jeans. He hits that spot deep inside you again, and you fall back into the cushions, breathy curses falling from your mouth over and over. 

“You look so beautiful like this, fucking hell,” he drops his free hand next to your head, caging you in beneath him, watching his fingers pistoning in and out of you faster and faster, circling your clit in a matching pace. “Mine, mine, mine,” he repeats over and over, like he can’t believe this is finally happening. He brings his lips to yours, mumbling the words against your mouth as you nod wordlessly in agreement, the taste of yourself on his tongue making you dizzy. He kisses you down to your neck, nipping at your sensitive skin, praise after praise whispered into your ear. 

“Tell me you’re mine,” he emphasizes his words with a sharp thrust of his fingers, and you cry out at the sensation. 

“I’m yours, I’m yours— fuck!” You feel the cord in your belly tightening and tightening. 

“Good fucking girl,” he whispers in your ear, nipping at your earlobe, “come around my fingers, baby,” 

“Oh, oh,” you shudder underneath him, his words pushing you over the edge as your orgasm rips through your body, pleasure burning from the inside out. He kisses you hard, slowing his pace bit by bit to ease you through your climax, your body trembling in his hold. “Yunho,” you mumble into his mouth, “I’m yours,” you whisper.

“You sure are,” he peppers your cheeks with soft, tender kisses, your brain slowly coming back online as he slows his fingers, coming to a stop. “And I’m yours,” he kisses you gently, easing his fingers out of you, slipping your panties back into place. He lays down on the couch next to you, pulling your favorite throw blanket over your exposed bottom half, tracing hearts and stars on your skin while your breathing steadies, running his fingers through your hair as you let your eyes flutter closed. You snuggle into him, the warmth of his body keeping the flame in your core burning. 

“You are incredible, Jeong Yunho,” you giggle as he kisses every inch of your face, his soft lips mapping the details of your skin. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. 

“Why, because I made you come in 5 minutes flat?” His low drawl has desire coursing through your veins, part of you feeling embarrassed he can turn you on so easily with just his words. 

Your breath hitches as you nod, trying to keep your cool, but he knows you better than that by now. “You really like when I talk to you like this, don’t you, baby?” 

“Apparently I do,” you turn to look at him, a teasing glint in his eyes, his fingers dancing across the bare skin of your belly. “I’d love to hear what else you have to say,” you tease. 

“Well for starters, I want to take you to bed” His mouth hovers over the shell of your ear, the combination of his hot breath fanning over your skin and the vibrations of his deep voice have lust taking over your thoughts once again. “I want to fuck you properly, and we just don’t exactly have the space for that here,” you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Oh,” you giggle, his straightforwardness taking you by surprise. Just like that you’re throbbing for him again, your mind racing thinking about where your night with him is going to go. “I’d like that.”

Before he can catch you, you jump up from the couch, leaving your throw blanket behind, beelining for the hallway toward Yunho’s bedroom, giggling the whole way.

“Hey!” He laughs, clamoring up to chase after you. A few long strides and he’s caught up to you, right in the doorway of his bedroom. He hooks an arm around your waist and you yelp as he spins you around to face him, the momentum of both your running carrying you to the foot of his bed. The backs of your knees hit the mattress, but he holds you upright, pressing your body against his. Your eyes lock, both of you breathing heavily.

“Someone’s excited,” Yunho chuckles, giving you a firm kiss before pushing you back onto his bed. You let out a breathless laugh as you plop down on the mattress, pushing yourself to sit upright.  

“A little,” your hands find his torso, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. He smirks down at you as you run your hands under his shirt and up his stomach to chest. He lets out a shaky breath at the feeling of your hands on him, and pulls his shirt off over his head, discarding it on the floor. You’d seen him without a shirt a handful of times, but this close he looks ethereal. Your fingers dance across his bare skin, reveling in the feeling of being able to touch him like this. You want to see more of him, touch more of him, taste more of him. 

“Yun,” you start, hesitant to take the lead. You slide your hands down his body until your fingers feel the smooth leather of his belt. Your eyes meet his, not breaking contact while you smoothly undo his belt buckle. “Can I?” You whisper. 

“You can do whatever you want to me, y/n,” he breathes, looking down to where your fingers are undoing the button of his jeans, sliding the zipper down slowly. You pull his jeans down, and he kicks them to the side, standing before you in only his boxers, his hard length pressing against the confines of the fabric.

His fingers lace through your hair, gripping it gently to tip your head back. Keeping your eyes on him, you slowly pull your sweater over your head, letting him let go of your hair to take it from your hands and toss it to the floor. You reach behind you, undoing the clasp of your bra, slowly sliding it from your body and dropping it next to your discarded sweater. Yunho’s chest heaves as he pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, drinking this image of you in, dragging his gaze across your exposed chest.

“So beautiful,” his voice has dropped even lower, a tone you’ve never heard from him, the deep timbre stoking the fire deep inside you. “You are so beautiful,” he cups your face in his hands, bending over to kiss you softly. He parts your lips with his tongue as you rest your hands on his abdomen, sliding one down to palm his cock over his boxers. 

“Fuck,” he groans into your mouth, your fingers wrapping around him as much as you can through the fabric, stroking his impressive length as he licks deeper into your mouth. You pump him from base to tip, running your thumb over the wet patch at the head of his cock, drawing another guttural moan from his lips. Your mouth is watering at the feeling of him, but it’s not enough. 

You dip your fingers under the waistband of his boxers, and Yunho breaks the kiss to watch you pull them slowly down, down, down, until his cock springs free, hanging heavy in front of you. You absentmindedly lick your lips at the sight of him, feeling the wetness in your panties growing. Lust prickles across your skin thinking about feeling him inside of you. 

“Yunho,” you sigh, wrapping your fingers around him, pumping him slowly as he stands up straight, tugging your hair in his fist to tip your head back again. “I want you to fuck my throat,” you whine, “please,” 

“Oh, baby,” he grips your hair tighter at your words while you stroke him, the sting making your cheeks warm, “you want me to stuff your pretty little mouth? Wanna wrap those beautiful lips around me?” Towering over you like this, you start to realize just how much he could overpower you, and the thought spreads heat through your abdomen. 

“Please,” you nod, “I wanna taste you,” you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out for him, keeping your eyes on his. You pump his length twice more as you guide his hips toward your mouth, dropping your hands into your lap as his tip rests on your tongue. 

“Mmh, so pretty,” he whispers, wrapping his fist around his cock, tapping his tip on your tongue before sliding past your lips. “If it gets to be too much, just tap my thigh, okay sweetheart?” 

You nod, wrapping your lips around him, sliding your tongue over the sensitive underside of his tip. His head falls back, a beautiful moan falling from his lips as you slowly start to bob your head. You take more of him, inch by inch until his cock taps the back of your throat. You swallow around him, and he absentmindedly thrusts deeper, chasing the sensation. 

“Fuck,” he groans, his grip on your hair tightening again as he holds you there. “I’m gonna move now, is that okay?” He brings his free hand to your cheek, caressing it gently as you nod in confirmation. As soon as you give him the signal, he pulls back slightly, rocking his hips slowly, savoring the feeling of your lips wrapped around him and your tongue gliding over him. “So beautiful with your mouth stuffed so  full,” he praises you, thrusting deeper into your mouth, down your throat, testing the limits of what you can take. He finds a steady rhythm, and you match his pace, bobbing your head and licking over every inch of him as he pumps in and out of your mouth, the stretch burning your throat deliciously.

You can’t take your eyes off of him, tears blurring your vision as you admire his lustful features. His furrowed brow, his blown pupils, his flushed cheeks. The bead of sweat dripping down the tip of his nose, the tensing muscles in his stomach as he pumps into your mouth… he looks so beautiful. You find yourself rocking your hips, grinding into the mattress, looking for any friction you can get.

He thrusts deep into your mouth, his cock hitting the back of your throat again, and he holds you down on him, your nose brushing over his abdomen. The lack of air makes your head spin, and you want him even deeper. You reach up to grab his hips, but your hand bumps his thigh on the way up, which he takes as your signal that it’s too much. 

“Shit,” he pulls out of your mouth, and you gasp for air as he drops to his knees in front of you. “Are you okay, baby? I’m so sorry, was that too rough?” His eyes are full of panic and he brushes your hair out of your face, wiping the saliva that had bubbled up at the corners of your mouth. It all happens so fast, it takes you a moment to process the man waiting in front of you, waiting for a response. Before you can stop yourself, a smile breaks across your face and a giggle rises up your throat. 

“Yunnie,” you laugh, cradling his concerned face in your hands, “I’m fine, more than fine,” you try to catch your breath. “I was trying to…grab your hips to pull you closer, but I … bumped your leg by mistake,” his panicked face relaxes, a beautiful smile taking its place, and he lets out a deep sigh of relief. “I do appreciate how quickly you stopped though,” you tease him, your breathing finally steady, “it’s nice to know my boundaries will be taken very seriously.” 

“You scared me!” He laughs, dropping his head in your lap. 

“It was an accident!” You laugh with him, brushing through his hair with your fingers. “I actually wanted you to be more rough with me,” 

He straightens up. “Is that so?” He plants his hands on the mattress on either side of your hips, the darkness returning to his gaze as he stands again, leaning over you. You lean back onto your elbows as he towers over you, his eyes raking over every inch of your body. 

“It is,” you whisper, suddenly feeling so small beneath him, all lightheartedness suddenly sucked out of the room. “I would enjoy that very much,” 

“Mmh,” he hooks an arm under your waist, lifting you easily and moving your body further up the mattress. You let out a small yelp as he drops you, heart warming as he reaches above you to grab a pillow to prop under your head. Once he’s sure you’re comfortable, he hooks his fingers on your panties, and you lift your hips for him to peel them off of you. He tosses them to the floor, turning his attention back to you, spreading your legs wide open, kneeling between them.

“I would enjoy that too, however,” he runs his hands up your calves, your thighs, until he reaches your center, using both hands to spread you wide open. You watch in awe as he runs two fingers through your arousal, teasingly dipping them inside of you. “I want to savor every moment of this,” he dips down to kiss you softly as he drives his fingers even deeper, prodding that tender spot inside of you, drawing a whine from your lips. “Let me be gentle this time, let me show you how much I–” he pauses, something indiscernible flashing through his eyes. “Let me show you how much I’ve been wanting you,” he recovers. “Then next time,” his thumb flicks over your clit, “I will do whatever you want me to do to you,” he circles the sensitive bud, your mind reeling. “Does that sound good, baby?” 

“Mhm,” you nod, “so good,” you whimper as he scissors his fingers inside of you, surely trying to stretch you open for what’s to come. 

He reaches for the drawer in his nightstand with his free hand, but you stop him. “You don’t have to wear one,” you interrupt.

“Are you sure?” His fingers keep moving inside of you, stretching you wider with each thrust, but still giving your conversation his attention.

“I’m on the pill and was tested recently, so yes, please Yunnie, I want to feel you,” you mewl, “please let me feel you,”  

“So good for me,” he praises you over and over, “are you ready?” 

“Yes, please,” you whine when he pulls his fingers from your cunt, desperate for him. He lifts your hips, pulling you closer to him, nestling himself between your legs, being sure to adjust your pillow once more. He spreads you open with one hand, tapping the tip of his solid cock on your swollen clit before rubbing it up and down your slit, lining up with your entrance. You both freeze at the same time as the reality of what’s about to happen finally hits you.

The feeling of this moment is nothing you’ve experienced before. For years, you’ve longed for Yunho, wanting the intimacy of your friendship to go beyond just emotional intimacy. You’ve yearned for him as long as you’ve known him. You wanted him– all of him. Finally, the universe decided it’s time for you two to experience that. 

You realize he’s feeling it too, his hand finding your cheek in the silence, brushing away a tear that you didn’t realize had fallen down your cheek. “I know, baby,” he whispers, and that’s all you need to hear. 

He presses his lips to your forehead as he slowly pushes inside, easing you into the sensation, gently stretching you out on his cock. You feel grateful that he prepped you with his fingers, the sting you feel only lasting a few brief moments before he’s smoothly gliding into you. He pushes in deeper and deeper, until you’re filled to the brim. He drops his hands to the mattress on either side of your head as he bottoms out. Almost in unison, you both let out a shuddering exhale. 

“You feel incredible, fuck” he breathes against your forehead, finally pulling back to look into your eyes, your bodies finally connected physically in the way they’ve felt connected spiritually all these years. “And you look so pretty, my angel,” he whispers, his eyes shining. 

“I don’t know how you can still manage to make me blush when you’re literally inside of me,” you pant, shyly giggling as your cheeks warm under his loving gaze. He hisses at the way you squeeze around him when you laugh. “Sorry,” you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle your giggles. 

“I’m learning so much about you today,” he pulls hips back slightly before burying himself inside you again, all teasing coming to an instant halt as the tip of his cock presses against your g-spot. 

“Oh my–” your back arches at the feeling, “God Yunnie, I feel so f-full.” 

“You’re doing so well baby,” he praises you again, giving you a moment to adjust to his size. “Look at you, so beautiful taking my cock.” 

“I need you to fuck me,” you scramble to grip his forearms, feeling the taut muscles under his skin. “Please,” you wriggle your hips beneath him, “move,” 

“Mm,” he pulls out almost completely, just the tip of his cock resting inside of you, “say it again, sweetheart,” 

“Fuck me Yunnie, please,” you beg, trying to push your hips down on his cock. 

“God, I’ve waited so long to hear you say that, I’ll never get tired of it” he slams into you, and you cry out as he bottoms out inside of you again. He sets a steady pace, rolling his hips into you over and over, the feeling of him pumping in and out of you more delicious than you could’ve ever imagined. He kisses you hard, licking into your mouth, swallowing all of your pretty little moans. 

He cups one of your breasts in his wide palm, running his thumb over your nipple, stoking the fire in the pit of your belly. He straightens, admiring how beautiful you look while you take him. Your lips red and puffy, your eyes half lidded, your breasts bouncing with each thrust. 

“So pretty, taking me so well,” he praises you as his hand coasts up your chest, fingers gently wrapping around your neck. He holds his hand there for a moment, making a mental note of the way your eyes light up when he briefly squeezes the column of your throat. 

“F-feels so g-good,” you choke out between thrusts. His thumb slides along your jaw toward your chin, prodding at your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth open. You wrap your lips around his thumb, sucking on it briefly before he pops it out of your mouth, trailing it down your body until he reaches your clit. The contact has your head spinning, the cord in your center tightening and tightening as he flicks your sensitive bud. 

“Baby, look,” his voice cuts through the foggy lust in your head, grabbing your attention. He nods down to where your bodies are connected, gesturing for you to take a glance. 

One look at him splitting you open has your climax threatening to wash over you, warmth running up and down your spine at the sight of your arousal shining on his cock as he pistons in and out of your heat relentlessly. He swirls his thumb around your clit faster at the feeling of you squeezing around him.

“You close, sweetheart?” He’s breathless as he fucks you, hitting so deep inside you that you can feel it in your stomach. 

“Mhm, fuck, yes,” you cry out, scrambling for his free hand, lacing your fingers between his. 

“Come on, I want to watch you fall apart around my cock.” He’s fucking you impossibly hard, each thrust hitting just right, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. “Let me feel you, love,” 

“Oh my god,” you stammer out a string of curses as your second orgasm washes over you, your heart thudding in your ears as your body tenses underneath him. He barely slows his pace, keeping his thumb resting on your clit, fucking you through your high. 

“There she is,” he coos, slowing little by little until your body starts to relax. He thrusts all the way inside, bottoming out, collapsing over you. 

“Wow,” you laugh, bringing your hands up to cradle his flushed face. “That was,” 

“Incredible?” He finishes your sentence, kissing your sweaty forehead over and over. You let out a soft moan in agreement, and his cock jumps inside of you at the sound. 

“Mmh,” you whimper, the warmth creeping back into your belly, and you squeeze around Yunho’s cock. 

“Wanting more already?” He teases, pushing his hips against you, thrusting himself in even deeper. 

“Absolutely,” you squeeze around him again, craning your neck up to capture his lips with yours. “Fuck me however you want, baby,” you whisper against his mouth. His cock twitches inside you again and you giggle, waiting for his next move. 

“Flip over,” he pants, “I wanna fuck you like this,” he slips out of you and you whine, feeling empty. He helps you roll onto your belly, kneeling behind you as he pulls your ass in the air and plants a hand in the middle of your back, guiding you to arch for him. You squish your cheek into the mattress, trying to look back at him. “Fucking hell,” he palms your ass with both hands, admiring your delectable form, “you are unreal.” 

“Yun, please, I need you,” you whine as he bends over your body, planting hot, wet kisses up your spine until he reaches the nape of your neck, bringing his lips to your ear. You feel his cock bump against your backside, his body flush against yours.

“You are insatiable, my love,” your heart flutters at the word, but your lust pushes any overanalyzing to the back of your mind in favor of how desperate you are for him. 

You push back into him, feeling the tip of his cock bump against your heat. He straightens at the feeling, rubbing circles into your hips with his thumbs as he watches you move. You roll your hips, catching the tip of his cock between your folds, wiggling and rocking to find the right angle before it finally slips inside. 

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpers as you push back, taking him deeper and deeper until your ass is flush against him. You start bouncing your hips, taking him in and out, slowly at first, the sounds of his moans filling your ears and soaking your center. 

“Feel good, baby?” You muffle from beneath him, moving your hips quicker with each bounce on his cock. You open your legs a little wider, the new angle rocking his cock against your g-spot. 

“The best thing I’ve ever felt,” he rolls his hips to meet yours, the sound of skin slapping filling the air of his bedroom. “I can’t believe how long we’ve waited for this,” he grips your hips, meeting your thrusts in earnest, fucking into you impossibly deep. You match each other’s pace immediately, moans and whines filling the air. 

He threads his fingers through your hair, tugging you upwards until your body is flush against his, your sweat-slicked bodies rocking together. His hand drops from your hair to wrap around your neck, holding you firmly in place as he threads his other hand between your legs, his middle and ring finger easily finding your swollen clit. 

“I want you like this forever,” he whispers in your ear as he drives into you, your motivation to bounce on him melting into the mattress beneath you. You want him to take you however he wants you, your body molding into his grip. 

“Forever,” you nod as he kisses your neck, “you have me forever Yunnie,” 

“Again,” he groans as you tighten around him, his fingers swirling around your clit, your third orgasm of the night building rapidly low in your belly. “Say it again,” 

“Forever,” you repeat, “I’m yours forever,” 

“Fuck, sweetheart, I’m so close,” he growls into your ear, “you take me so well, like you were made for me,” 

“I was, Yun,” you assure him, “I was made for you,” he rubs your clit faster, “and you were made for me,” 

“God, yes,” he kisses your shoulder, his pace faltering as he gets closer to the edge, “I love you, y/n, fuck.” His fingers swirl around your clit as his hips stutter, spilling hot and fast inside of you. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he repeats over and over as he ruts into you. 

“I love you, Yunho,” you cry out, your heart exploding as your orgasm follows, your body shuddering against him as you come together, your words and his swirling around you in the afterglow. 

He holds you tight against him, guiding your spent form back down to the mattress, kissing every inch of your skin as you both come down from your highs. He slips out of you, lowering your hips, massaging your sore muscles before rolling onto his back next to you. You mimic his position, flipping over so you’re both staring at the ceiling, processing the words you both just confessed. You lay together in silence, the sounds of both of you trying to catch your breath filling the room. You let your eyes close, processing the moment.

“Jeong Yunho,” your voice is hoarse once you speak. “Tell me you love me.” Your eyes flutter open, turning your head to see him already beaming at you. He rolls onto his side, bringing himself nose to nose with you. 

“I love you.” He declares, clear and confident, your heart swelling in your chest. His lips brush over yours, both of you smiling as he kisses you softly. “Your turn,” he whispers. You copy him, rolling onto your side, brushing his sweat slicked hair from his forehead as he throws an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“I love you,” you giggle, kissing him again. 

“One more time?” 

“I, love, you,” you emphasize each word with a gentle kiss on his lips, 

“I will never get tired of hearing that,” he whispers. “Let’s go get cleaned up.” 

You whine in protest, but Yunho eventually gets you into the bathroom, running a hot shower for the both of you. You wash up together, hardly able to keep your hands off of each other. Once you’ve fallen apart in his hands twice more and the water’s run cold, he helps you into a pair of his boxers and his biggest, softest sweatshirt. 

“This feels like a dream,” you think out loud once you’re snuggled up in Yunho’s bed together. “Is this a dream?” 

“If it is, I never want to wake up,” he smiles at you under the dim street lights flooding through his windows. “This is all I need, forever.” 

You kiss him at that, soft and tender, his arms wrapping tighter around you, holding you close. You fall asleep shortly after, nose to nose, hearts full. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

You wake to the morning sun shining through Yunho’s bedroom windows, the sweet smell of vanilla flooding your nose. Stretching your tired limbs, you roll over to find the other side of the bed empty. Panic floods your mind at the sight, your past making you assume the worst. Is he sleeping on the couch? You wonder. Does he regret what he said and now he’s avoiding me? Before you can reason with yourself, you jump out of bed and speed walk down the hallway, stopping dead in your tracks when you reach the kitchen. 

“You’re not freaking out, are you y/n?” Yunho drawls, his voice still laced with sleep, low and raspy. He hasn’t even looked at you yet, his focus being on the plate on the counter in front of him, but he already knows where your mind is at just by the sound of your footsteps coming down the hallway. Of course he does. His bare, wide shoulders shake as he laughs to himself. His pajama pants hang low on his hips, the muscles in his back moving beneath his skin as he throws the final touches on what’s in front of him. He spins around to face you holding a plate of pancakes, littered with strawberries cut into hearts. Your heart flutters at the scene in front of you. “You think I’m gonna make love to you, tell you that I love you, and not make you breakfast in the morning?” 

Suddenly feeling self conscious over your immediate assumption that he regretted your night together, you cross your arms, avoiding his gaze. “I got scared,” you whisper. 

“That I left you in my apartment all alone? Baby,” he puts the plate down, “I would never, especially after last night,” he crosses the kitchen to reach you, pulling you into his warm embrace, his hot skin beneath you melting away the coldness you felt from waking up alone. “I’m not like…him,” he reminds you, brushing his fingers through your hair. “You are safe with me. Safe, loved, protected, respected, I could go on and on. Do you understand me?” He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head. 

You nod against his chest. “I do,” you feel a tear slide down your cheek, spreading from your skin, onto his. He squeezes you in a tight hug. 

“Come on, let’s get some food in your system. You haven’t eaten since our pastries at Blossom last night,” he releases you to grab your plate, as well as a second he made for himself, and drops another quick kiss to your forehead before carrying them to the coffee table in his living room. 

“Come sit,” he beckons you, and you follow automatically, plopping on the couch. He grabs your favorite throw blanket before sitting down next to you, draping it over both of your laps. No matter how hard you try to ignore them, negative thoughts are still plaguing your mind. You both pick up your plates, eating in silence for a few moments before Yunho speaks up again. 

“Y/n, what’s on your mind?” His tone is so sincere, you immediately feel guilty for making him worry. 

“I’m just–” you hesitate for a moment. “I’m scared it’s too good to be true.” 

“What is? Us?” Worry flickers across his features, his heart aching seeing you so distraught. 

“Yeah,” you sigh, poking at one of your pancakes with your fork. You know you’re being unreasonable, and that Yunho has shown you nothing but love and commitment as long as you’ve known him. But your self doubt and your history of awful relationships is screaming at you that you don’t deserve him. You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t even realize that you’re crying. 

Yunho gently takes your plate from your hands, putting both his and yours back on the coffee table. He shifts his body slowly until he’s kneeling on the floor in front of you, resting his hands on your blanket-covered thighs.

“Y/n, look at me,” he pleads. You wipe the tears from your cheeks, patting the dampness into the blanket in your lap. You rest your hands on top of his, tracing the lines of his veins for a moment before dragging your gaze upwards to meet his. His eyes are glazed over with tears of his own. 

“Yunnie, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you, I–”

“Listen to me,” he interrupts. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. The most precious thing in this world to me. Each moment that I spend with you fills me with a joy that I never experienced until I met you.” He turns his hands over to cradle yours as his tears finally fall down his cheeks. “I love you. And I will spend every day of the rest of my life proving that to you. And proving to you that you deserve the love that I give you.” 

You stifle a sob at his words, trying to take all of it in as the beautiful truth. You know he means it, he’s always meant every word he’s ever said to you, and you know you need to silence your anxieties in favor of what you know to be true. 

“It’s gonna take time,” you whisper. “It’ll take time for me to believe that I deserve what you give me,” you wipe your own tears, then his, both of you laughing breathlessly at your own emotions. “But I will get there,” you continue, “I just need you to be patient with me.” 

“Of course. I will spend the rest of my life reminding you what you deserve, sweetheart. That’s a promise.” 

“I love you.” You cradle his head in your hands, memorizing every inch of his face, savoring the first day of the rest of your lives.

“I love you,” he kisses the tip of your nose. “Let’s go finish our breakfast in bed.” 

“Okay,” you giggle watching Yunho jump up to grab both your plates, giddily walking toward his bedroom with a wide smile on his face. 

“You coming?” He glances over his shoulder at you, his ears blushing bright red as he waits for you. 

You nod, hopping up to follow after him, to your new forever.