#she has like twenty pairs she owns ONE pair of jeans

[hunnywrites]

I stg if you open teddi’s closet it looks like this

[azsazz]

Infest

Stalker!Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel really really likes you.

Warnings: Stalking.

Word Count: 2864

Notes: Going to try my hand at something a little darker. No plans for what's going to happen next, so it might be a hot minute before the next part. 🖤

Also high-key for my Ghost girlies 🤭

_________________________________________

Thursday, October 31st

The city streets are crowded for the holiday, and Azriel’s there, too.

He must choose his target carefully, but he’s had one picked out since the first time he saw her strolling down the rainy streets one evening, all alone with no protection, head buried in her phone.

And that target is you.

He keeps his head dipped low as not to call attention to himself. The dark hood of his sweatshirt curls over his head, concealing his features. All attempts at blending in are futile, because he isn’t dressed as a cinematic axe murderer or a gimmicky super hero. He’s clothed as he always is; black hoodie and matching jeans, paired with thick-soled, military grade boots.

It doesn’t matter, anyway, because you haven’t noticed him in the forty-three days, sixteen hours, fifteen minutes, and twenty-one…twenty-two seconds that he’s been following you.

Azriel can recount how you live your days by heart. He doesn’t need to, because you haven’t left his line of sight since he’d set his focus on you. At five-thirty, you wake up. In the gym at the top floor of your apartment complex by six. You run on the treadmill Mondays and Fridays, attempt the Stairmaster on Tuesdays and Thursdays, with sporadic weight-lifting in between. It hurts to watch, and there have been a handful of times Azriel has wanted to give up his position, make himself known in your life, and show you proper form in and outside of the gym. Wednesday is your rest day. After that it’s back to your apartment to get ready for your day. Protein shake, shower, blow-dry your hair, followed by breakfast, dressing in whatever you wear to your office, though he thinks he might even have your outfits memorized because there are only so many options in your tiny closet.

Tonight, you’re dressed as a scantily clad little red riding hood, which only makes him feel even more like the big, bad wolf that he is. He has much too patience, too much time, and has too much interest invested in you.

It’s dark, which is his home. He’s always sought comfort in the black of night, has had to with the household her grew up in, where he was often locked in the closet for bad behavior that was in no way his own doing. He would stay in there for so long his parents forgot, that time lost all meaning. Inside of that closet, he learned that he could fear the dark or thrive in it, and Azriel chose the latter.

Azriel slides off of the bus stop bench, trailing you and your friend. His eyes are sharp, calculating as he drinks in the surroundings. He is always on alert, even though the streets are filled with joyous laughter and squealing children that make the constant ringing in his ears sound like symbols clashing, reverberating his eardrums in the most annoying sense.

He shakes his head clear and refocuses on his target.

You’re with a friend. Morrigan. She’s the one that always has you rolling your eyes when you take her phone calls. Azriel knows this because he screens them. He doesn’t like her one bit, thinks that there are better options in your friend group that you should hang out with more, like Feyre or Tarquin. If Azriel really thought that he could pull it off, Mor would be gone from your life for good.

Okay, he knows that he can pull something exactly like that off. He didn’t train for a decade as a Night Stalker in the Army to not know how to murder quickly and quietly. Years of training has turned Azriel into a nocturnal animal. Always watching, always waiting for the right moment to strike.

You stumble over the curb when you cross the street and Azriel’s fists tighten in his pockets. You’re not paying any attention to your surroundings. There could people out here who want to bring harm upon you, and you’re too unaware, much too focused on the story Mor is telling you, her voice so loud that Azriel can hear her nasally pitch over the crowd of teens he shoves his way through.

“Hey!” A girl in a skeleton shirt snaps. Azriel deigns her a microsecond of a look. Cheap skeleton mask pushed up into her hair. Black circles painted around her eyes. Much too old to be trick-or-treating. “Watch it!”

Azriel’s only response is to snatch the mask off of her head and keep walking.

The teen calls out after him, outraged, but her friends circle in on her, making sure that she doesn’t start something that they can’t finish. She’s shouting something about getting him on video and that she’s calling her father, who she claims is the chief of police in this corrupt city.

She really shouldn’t be flaunting that information.

He doesn’t have to look up at you to know where you and Mor are headed, but he does because he’s meticulous in his work, and a simple double-triple-even quadruple check is not out of the ordinary for him.

Azriel hates and loves the platform red heels you’re wearing. Hates them because you’ve tripped once already, and they’re not good for running should you run into trouble. That is, trouble that isn’t him, because when he comes for you, there will be no getting away.

He loves them because they look incredibly sexy on you, make your legs look miles tall, and he wants them hooked around his shoulders while he devours you.

Your heels are tall. You look like a fawn standing for the first time. Azriel could blame it on the two drinks and three shots you had at your apartment prior to moseying throughout the city to find a club that doesn’t have a line around the corner to party in for the night, but he’s seen you trip over less. Clumsy would be your middle name if he didn’t already know what it is.

The dress you’re wearing isn’t even a dress at all. The hem hits you just below your crotch, and he knows you’re not wearing any shorts beneath it because he’s caught sight of the little red bow on the waistband of your panties already. His jaw flexes where it’s locked together as the breeze lifts the cheap fabric.

You laugh, brushing down your skirts. He’s caught two father’s drinking you in like bloodhounds. There are women who stare, also, and more than a handful of teenagers. Azriel has to shove the violent thoughts from his mind. He should have made his move weeks ago, because you would never leave the house in something like this if he had anything to say about it.

The bodice of your top—if it can be considered a top at all—is tight, accentuating your curves and pushing your breasts to your chin. It’s raunchy. It’s seductive. You look like an escort, one who is paid top dollar for the services you’d offer.

The crimson cape you’re wearing is the most modest piece of clothing you have on. It’s pulled over your curled hair, blocking your peripherals. If he were to stalk closer to you, you’d never see him coming. Not that you would anyway, not until he’s ready for you to see him.

His cock twitches in his pants, and he rips his gaze from your legs, traveling upward until all he’s looking at is your matching red cloak that currently conceals the rest of your body from how you’ve wrapped it around yourself in a makeshift coat. It’s brisk this time in October, and Azriel would happily give you the clothes off his back if you’re cold, or to cover you up.

Azriel examines the mask he tore from the teens head. It’s a skull poorly sewn to a balaclava, and it makes him think of previous recon missions he’s been on where he’s had to wear a mask of his own. It trudges up a feeling in his gut like he’s been stabbed with a hot knife again, but he shoves it over his head anyway, and readjusts his hood.

You and Mor come to a stop at the crosswalk. There’s a group of people waiting at the light, so Azriel slips closer. He’s not worried about you seeing him. If you did, it wouldn’t matter anyway, because you have no idea who he is, that he knows you, has been following you. You are blissfully unaware, and that gives Azriel an uneasy edge.

You smell sweet, like candy and cherries. It’s his favorite of your perfumes. Intoxicating, delicious. He wants to crane down and press his nose into the crook of your neck, lick it off of you until you’re a whimpering mess with your hands buried deep in his hair and your back arched against him, begging him for more.

Mor’s voice pulls him back into the present. She talks about a man that she had a one-night stand with and is rating him on how well he pleasured her in bed. Not well, it sounds like, and Azriel knows that he’d had no trouble working you to orgasm because of the good girl you’d be for him.

Soon.

“And when do you suppose you’re getting laid again?” Morrigan scoffs when you tease her about her horribly lay. The walk sign lights up and the two of you begin to cross the street. Mor crosses her arms over her chest, and all the action does is push her breasts higher into the sky. A man Azriel passes curses low under his breath, eyes glued to her chest. Azriel checks him with his shoulder as he passes, causing the man to grunt and spit that same curse at him, this time sounding irritated instead of like a man cursed to have the beauty of a young woman flaunted in his face.

Azriel keeps walking, lengthening his strides as you turn a corner, nearly at the bar.

You sigh, long and lonely. It makes Azriel’s cock jump as he imagines you making that noise when he pulls his cock from your mouth only to allow you to swallow down a desperate breath before he’s shoving himself back down your throat. He’s heard you make that noise aplenty: while you’re dreaming sinful dreams and he’s standing in the darkness of your room, watching you.

He imagines the noises you might make with his fingers in your cunt or bouncing on his cock. With a plug nestled in that tight little ass and your hands tied to the headboard. With clamps around your nipples and his face buried between your legs. Moan, maybe, beg, scream, cry, thrash, writhe, plead beneath his touch.

The number of things he’d like to do to you is endless. He’s had over forty-three days to think about exactly what he’s going to do to you.

“I don’t know,” you respond. Azriel knows. “Whenever I find the right one, I guess.”

Mor laughs, and Azriel doesn’t fail to notice the way that your shoulders stiffen at the shrill sound. Another strike against the blonde. “See, that’s your problem! You’re all ‘I need to find the right man,’ but you’re never actually testing them out! It’s not like the man of your dreams is going to drop out of the sky—” Azriel could. He’s trained in that. “And sweep you off your feet. You have to try!”

The streets are busier in the heart of town. The demographic has changed from toddlers and children dressed in silly costumes to adults dressed in even less. The bars that line the street are all packed to the brim, and Azriel’s never been a fan of places with this many people, but he’s used to confined spaces, and being pressed up against a wall in a dark bar while watching you let loose for once won’t be the worst night of his life by far.

He knows which bar you’re going to. Rita’s, the dirtiest, diviest bar on the block. It’s been a staple in Velaris for years, and only the locals, but they play the best music. You and your friends have been going here since before it was legal. You hope that they’re here because Feyre mentioned she and Rhys were in the Uber, but you know that they tend to get sidetracked in each other more often than not.

Maybe Cassian or Tarquin will be there.

“I try!” you defend, but it weak. You hate being on dating apps, and the conversations with the guys that you do match with are drier than the Sahara. And within days they always unmatch you. “It’s not my fault that I’m looking for more interesting conversation than a ‘hey, how was your day,’ or ‘sorry I didn’t respond, I fell asleep.’” You’re not boring, you refuse to believe that you’re the problem in these situations. These men can be so boring sometimes, and your life is already mundane enough, you don’t need entertain a man who is going to pussy out on you before the first date or only wants you to put out.

You and Mor get into the short line. Attor is working the door tonight. He’s a. large, brooding security guard that’s been working for Rita’s forever. He’s known you and Mor since the first night you came here, when you were juniors in high school and Cassian convinced you all to come here after the team won the homecoming game. He’s allowed you in all these years, but never lets you cut the line.

Mor leans against the brick wall of the building, shooting you an offended look. You make a face because you’ve seen more people out here crouched and puking their guts up against these very walls. You’ve seen people fondling each other against it, too, and you’re fifty percent sure that Cassian slept propped up against it one night when he got a little too drunk to coordinate a ride home.

 “You just have to get past that part,” she says, and you bite your lip to refrain from mentioning that none of the guys that she’s met online have stuck around. Maybe you should be thankful for that, because she’s the only other single girl in your friend group. It can’t just be you and Cassian as the single ones, because that would ruin your chances even further.

Azriel doesn’t follow you into the line. He notices the smoking area is a waist-high gate and wants to laugh at the security of this place. He bums a cigarette off of a guy who keeps eyeing him, and while the guard at the front door converses shortly with you and Mor, he lifts a leg and hooks it over the fence, easily making his way into the bar.

He slides through the plethora of people, quickly and with the stealth of a lethal predator. He’s been here before on multiple accounts, thanks to you, so he’s familiar with the terrain and knows that you and Mor are headed straight for the bar to order drinks before scoping out the place for your friends.

It’s muggy, musty. The air smells like body odor and alcohol. Everything’s made of wood: the bar, the floors, the walls. There’s a tiny disco ball over a stick floor where the tables have been pushed aside for a makeshift dancefloor that no one uses until two hours before closing when there’s more booze than blood in their veins.

Azriel slides in next to you at the bar, but keeps his back turned away from you. It’s not time yet, but he loves the warmth of your body beside his. Goosebumps break out across his skin when you accidentally brush up against him.

He tilts his head, listening.

“Well…there might be this one guy,” you trail off, and Azriel’s fingers curl into fists.

He doesn’t like the man you’re bringing up one bit. Has dug well into his life, and even if he hadn’t, Azriel would have been able to tell upon first glance that this man is not going to give you the relationship nor the orgasms you deserve.

“Bitch! Tell me now!” Mor shouts, and Azriel can picture the grin curving her red lips. When you open your mouth to speak, your friend quickly cuts you off. “Wait, wait, wait! We need drinks first.” She waves over Rita herself, the older woman greeting the both of you with warm smiles. She waves in your direction, beginning to make your drinks without even asking.

“You know, the world doesn’t revolve around relationships and how many people you’ve slept with,” you huff, and Azriel agrees. It’s not his world, because in his head, his world revolves around you and only you, but he’d support anything that came out of your mouth, especially if it’s in regards to the other men in your life.

“Okay,” Mor snorts again. The both of you thank Rita for your drinks and head away from the bar, thankfully saving Azriel from having to hear about this new conquest that isn’t even a conquest at all if he has anything to do about it.

[slutforfinnickodair]

HI BBG😻😻 I was wondering if you could write something for Sam Monroe like maybe he has a prince albert piercing?! I’m going feral rn. Okay love yaa

At the piercer

Pairing: Older!F!Reader x Sam Monroe

plot: Sam is in a little need of some money and after one of his friends bets him a lot of it in change for that piercing, he goes to visit one of his friends.

warnings: oral (male receiving), piercings, talk of smoking and use of drugs, age gap — sam is like 21 reader is more like 29, cheating

a/n: holy cow. WHOEVER REQUESTED THIS PLEASE MESSAGE ME😭🙏 By the way guys my inbox is open so please give me some requests😻

word count: 1.4k

—

“Yo, dude.” Josh nudged Sam by his shoulders. Sam gave him a look from the side before taking off his headphones that were blasting Metallica a moment ago.

“What do you want?” His hoarse voice made Josh want to laugh but he stood his ground.

“Want to bet five hundred bucks?” Josh said while leaning against the fence of their house.

Sam sighed before thinking of it. Five hundred bucks would be good for at least three pounds of weed. Maybe he could get some cigarettes along with it or even pills.

“What’s the deal?” Sam stood up from the grass, making Josh smirk before he turned his head to look at Thomas.

“He won’t do it man let it go.” Tommy shook his head while Josh kicked his leg making Thomas buckle his knees.

“You got a thing for that Y/N don’t you?” Josh asked while Sam narrowed his eyes at the blonde. Who was he to question if he liked her or not? She was already married for two years now so he had no chance over a man who looked like he was coming out from a Vogue magazine’s frontpage. Plus, he was way younger.

“Just say what you want, Jonathan.” Sam crossed his arms on his chest.

“How about you go to her salon and ask for a piercing?” Josh chuckled while looking down at his own groin.

The raven haired boy instantly shook his head.

“Come on Sam, it's gonna be fun. Don’t be such a pimp. Isn’t this what you want after all? Some weed and pills. You know five hundred dollars isn’t a small amount of money” Josh teased.

“I’m not doing it anyways.” Sam said. “Either if I get the money or not.”

“Are you shy? That she will see how small your dick actually is?” Thomas laughed while Josh kicked him again.

Sam tilted his head backwards. A piercing? Down there? Sure for five hundred it wasn’t really a big deal but he wasn’t even sure Y/N could do something like that.

“Fine, I'll do it.” Sam suddenly said while Josh smirked and patted Thomas on his back while turning around and walking back into their house.

—

Sam walked into your shop, hearing the bell echo through the building as he stepped inside and closed the door behind himself.

“Oh, Hi Sam.” You said as you spotted him across the reception. He was wearing flared jeans with one of those metal rock bands on it that you casually knew the name of but didn’t listen to any of their songs.

“Hi.” He said while walking over to you.

“What brings you in today?” You asked while pulling out your notepad to add a new customer for today. You only had five today and it was already two in the afternoon so it was quite a slow day.

Now this was the part where Sam lost all of his confidence just looking at you all over again.

You had your hair pinned up so it didn’t fall into your sight. You were wearing a blouse with nothing underneath so he saw your nipple piercings poking through the fabric.

He felt his mouth watering up at the sight as you leant against the counter, writing his name in in your diary.

“Well..umm.” He started but then stopped again as you looked up at him. “I..”

You tilted your head smiling slightly as you saw a little red creeping up to his face.

“I’m guessing you want it somewhere private.” You said while he let out a chuckle, scratching the back of his neck.

“Nipple piercings?” You guessed while looking up at him.

“No.”

You tried to think of anything that could weird out a twenty one year old boy, then the question suddenly left your mouth.

“A cockring?” You asked while Sam breathed out and nodded his head slowly.

“Okay.” You got up from behind the counter and walked towards the mattress where you did all of your job.

“Lay down.” You said while sitting down on the barstool next to him.

Sam laid down as you said and stared at the ceiling while you got some of the stuff that was needed. You put on some gloves, searching for a needle and the disinfectant with a cotton swab nearby.

“Are you nervous?” You asked to make a brief conversation.

“A little.” He admitted while readjusting his position.

“Don’t worry it will be fine.” You said while turning around. “Though you would need to pull your jeans and underwear down.” You said while waiting for him to do so.

“Oh right.” He murmured while quickly fidgeting with his belt.

Your thoughts suddenly drifted away. You’ve been doing piercings for Sam since he turned seventeen. Of course you thought he looked fine but he was way too young for you. You were already twenty five when you met.

Your husband wouldn’t give a shit if you just went and slept around, because he did the same. Not that you did care, you needed the money and that was it.

Sam was different, you only thought of him as a one night stand and even that was a huge mistake to think of. He probably had many women drooling around him; he didn't need one who was married.

“Okay so.” You started while looking at his pretty face. “You know I would like you to get a little bit aroused before we start this so the needle can easily pierce your skin.” You dared not to look down at his member. Sam paid attention to this as he stared right into your gorgeous eyes, waiting for you to finally touch him even if it meant his head would be swelling for a good two weeks.

“I’ll leave you alone to do this.” You said while getting up from the barstool that you were seated on. Sam wanted to call out for you but he rather closed his mouth and watched as you walked behind the counter again, looking up at the clock before diving your head into one of your notebooks where you rearranged some appointments that were off for today. You were basically just scribbling down whatever came to your mind.

By the time you walked back to where Sam was, you saw exactly how he was currently rubbing himself, trying to get ready. All you saw was that the poor boy tried to do his best but he was still limp. You pulled at your lips as a wicked thought ran up into your head.

Jacking him off wouldn’t be cheating would it be?

You didn’t care though, you walked over to him and sat back on the barstool. When he noticed you he quickly pulled away his hands, staring at you.

“Seems like you don’t have anyone to think about.” You said while he gulped down his spit. Gosh how could you be so hot and confident at the same time?

“Trust me, I do.” He murmured while looking down at your cleavage.

“Okay pretty boy well how about I help you out a little bit?” You suggested while pulling out something like lube from one of your drawers.

“You would?” He asked surprised.

Oh god, she’s going to stroke my dick.

“Well if I need to..” You pressed some of that lube on your fingertips looking down at him.

Sam kept looking at you, praying not to cum in a minute under your hands. You probably had no time for him anyways.

You looked him into the eyes once before taking his tip between your fingertips, rubbing the lube right on the skin.

This was the first time Sam held his moans back, trying to gain composure as you kept flicking the head with your hands. If you kept going like this you would be having to see him cumming all over your hand.

“Fuck.” He muttered under his breath as you went faster. You even forgot this wasn’t supposed to be a blowjob until the very moment you got thick ropes of white coming down your hands.

A soft gasp left your lips but even then you kept going. Sam twitched underneath your hand, groaning once you sped up again.

“You gonna cum again for me baby?” You purred while now your hand was caressing his entire length.

“Yes..” He gasped while you kept smirking.

Let’s just say Sam Monroe turned out to visit your salon more after that encounter. Plus, he always made sure your husband would see the leftover marks that your setting powder couldn’t cover.

[joelalorian]

Fall Into Me - Chapter Eight: We'll Dance in the Street like Nobody's Watching

dbf!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 3.8k

Chapter Warnings: Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings, unprotected p in v, flirting, dads being dads. Two idiots falling in love and finally fucking admitting it. Joel is his own warning. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad and Joel uses various terms of endearment (darlin', sweetheart, etc.).

This chapter includes the scene that sparked the entire story idea. I've been patiently waiting for it to see the light of day. hope you enjoy!

Thank you so much to everyone who reads this self-indulgent story and extra thanks to those who comment and/or reblog - you all make me feel like a rock star!

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Chapter Seven | Main Masterlist

“So, how was it?” Grilling you for the past twenty minutes, Emily was relentless in her pursuit to find out just how good Joel was in bed, after congratulating you on the new job, of course. “Come on! I need to know!”

“Alright, alright! I had no idea you were such a needy bitch. Is your hubby not dicking you down enough or what?” you laughed before regaling her with tales of Joel’s prowess.

“I fuckin’ knew he’d be big and know how to use it! He just gives off that BDE, ya know what I mean? Just how big are we talkin’, anyway?”

Rolling your eyes, you laughed again. “Well, I didn’t fucking measure it, but it’s a definite handful. Besides, you’ve never even met him, Em! How could you possibly get that vibe?”

“I’ve seen photos and heard stories, that’s more than enough to pick up on that sorta thing,” Emily replied with the confidence of someone who damn well knows what she’s talking about. “I need to know more. Gimme all the details!”

“Yeah, yeah. Speaking of BDE, I gotta finish getting ready. Joel said he had something special planned for tonight to celebrate me getting the teaching job.”

“I bet he does. You’re gonna get another deep dicking from that huge—”

“Bye Em!” you cut her off and hit end call before she could carry on anymore.

Tossing the phone on your bed, you finished putting a light layer of makeup on, putting in a little more effort to look good tonight. Ten minutes later, dressed in a pair of dark, fitted jeans and a dark blue, long-sleeve, vee neck shirt that showed just a touch of cleavage, you wandered out to the living room.

“Alright Dad, I’m off. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Leaning over the back of his recliner, you press a kiss to his balding head.

“Have fun on your date and be careful, Spud. Call me if you need a ride home or anything,” he replied, patting your hand. You turned to leave, grabbing a light jacket from the hook by the door just in case, when your dad’s voice carried from the living room. “It’s funny, Joel told me he has a date tonight, too.”

Freezing for a moment, you squeak, “Oh, yeah?”

“Uh huh. Quite a coincidence me thinks.” He paused again, but you were at a loss for words and grateful that he couldn’t see your expression. “Enjoy your night, kiddo.”

Knowing a dismissal when you heard one, you take off through the door. Your mind raced on the short drive to Joel’s. He knows. Your dad so knows. You start to panic for a moment wondering if he’s upset before the realization hits that he didn’t seem remotely mad about it. More like he got a kick out of the idea and enjoyed teasing you. You and Joel had to fess up very soon, but that was a tomorrow problem. Tonight was meant to be all about you and Joel.

Walking through the front door, you expected to find Joel in the living room or kitchen, but the downstairs was empty. Lugging your overnight bag up the stairs, you thought maybe he’d be in his room or the bathroom still getting ready, but again, no sign of him. Where the hell was he?

Making your way down the stairs, you peeked out the window to make sure you didn’t imagine his truck in the driveway when you parked – it was there, right next to your car. He had to be around here somewhere. The sound of soft music hit your ears suddenly. Following the sound, you slipped out the back door and gasped.

A soft glow spread across the yard from lights strung from tree to tree, a plaid tablecloth covered the patio table on which sat a vase of brightly colored tulips, an open bottle of pinot noir, two stemless wine glasses, and two covered plates. Just beyond the patio, a hammock hung between two large live oaks with another set of string lights dangling above it. As your eyes took it all in, Joel stood off to the side watching you with a warm smile.

“Joel,” you whispered, afraid to disturb the dream-like quality of the moment, his name a drawn-out breath in the air when you finally turned to him. His dark eyes glinted from the string lights as he stepped forward out of the shadows, one hand stretched out towards you. There was no hesitation in reaching for him and you clung to each other for a few minutes before he stepped back to pull out a chair for you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, settling into the seat. When Joel took his place across the table from you, you added, “This is so lovely, Joel.”

A bashful smile graced his lips as he removed the covers from the plates and filled the wine glasses. Your gaze soaked in every little movement he made, in awe of the gorgeous man before you and all he’d done to make this evening special. Holding his glass up, he toasted to you. “Here’s to your new job and the start of a very rewarding career. Congrats darlin’.”

Clinking your glass against his lightly, you beamed at him. He looked so handsome, thick curls pushed back away from his face, tanned skin glowing in the soft lighting. “Thank you, Joel.” Already buzzing from the way he made you feel, you sipped lightly at the wine before digging into the meal before you.

Bursts of flavor hit your palette at the first bite, the chicken cooked to perfection and the sun-dried tomatoes adding just the right tang to the red pesto coating the rigatoni. A soft moan escaped before you caught it, cheeks heating up with the way Joel looked at you with hooded eyes.

“I reckon you like it?” he asked, a teasing lilt to his gravelly voice.

“This may be the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted, Joel. Did you make this?” You took another bite, savoring the flavors that exploded in your mouth.

“Mmhmm. It’s my mama’s recipe, she made it a lot when we were younger, and it’s always been my favorite. I’m glad you like it.” He watched you enjoy another forkful, obviously proud.

“I don’t just like it, Joel. This is fuckin’ delicious. I didn’t know you could cook like this!”

His cheeks turned pink as he cleared his throat. “I can’t, usually. I practiced a lot with this one.” That melted your heart further.

You ate your fill, making small conversation between bites, until your wine glass was empty, and your belly satisfied. Joel poured you another glass, which you sipped leisurely as he cleared the table and placed the dirty dishes in the dishwasher for later. He wouldn’t let you lift a finger.

“Dance with me?” he said upon his return outside, voice deep and gravelly as he plucked the glass from your hand and placed it on the table.

“I’d love to,” you replied softly, lips tilted upwards in a sweet smile. Holding his left hand out, Joel helped you to your feet and let you off the patio.

A new song began, volume a little louder now, and you stepped closer to him. A warm buzz spread through your veins when Joel pulled you against his broad chest, one arm wrapping around your waist and the other bent to hold your hand over his heart. You could feel the thump of his heartbeat beneath the green flannel he wore as he swayed you slowly around the grassy yard, careful to not stray too close to the pool.

Nothing ever felt as right as being there in Joel’s arms, dancing in the yard like the world beyond the fence didn’t exist. Your feelings for this man were overwhelming, growing deeper each and every day – hell, each and every second was more like it – and that four-letter word bubbled in your throat. You swallowed it down, settling your head against Joel’s shoulder, eyes closed and focused on the moment.

Joel’s chin tilted downward, nudging against the side of your face, his lips near your ear, and his breath sent delightful chills down your spine when he began to sing softly.

“Fall into me and I’ll catch you, darlin’. We’ll dance in the street like nobody’s watching. It’s just you and me and the song on repeat in my head, playing over and over…”

My god, how could you not fall in love with this incredible man?

The intimacy of it all brought tears to your eyes as your fingers threaded through the hair at the back of his head. Stomach alight with the flutter of too many butterflies, the urge to speak from your heart became too much, you could hold back no longer.

“I love you, Joel.”

You loved him.

What did he ever do to deserve something like that?

Heart clenching deep in his chest, Joel guided you to the hammock, music still carrying softly through the air. With amazing finesse, he settled you both on the hanging fabric, bodies snuggled together until you nearly became one.

He ached to say the words back to you, but they kept getting stuck in his throat. Instead, he settled for showing you how he felt, just like he did with dancing and singing in your ear – he could have written that song for how relatable it was to the feelings you brought out in him. Dark eyes stared into yours as his hands moved over your body, pulling you impossibly closer.

I love you, his lips said as they pressed heatedly against yours.

I love you, his tongue said as it licked softly into your mouth to tangle delicously with yours.

I love you, his hands said as they touched you with utter reverence.

I love you, his body said as he pressed it tightly against yours, trying in vain to crawl beneath your skin.

Joel kissed you with singular focus until you were both breathless and overwrought with need.

“Take me to bed, Joel,” you whispered when he finally tore his lips from yours. “I need to feel every bit of you.”

Your angelic voice music to his ears, he scrambled from the hammock, scooping you up in his muscled arms to carry you inside and up to his bedroom. His mind occupied by one thing and one thing only – making love to you until you knew every part of him and he knew every part of you – the string lights and last bit of wine were left forgotten in the yard.

Loving the way you clung to him, Joel swept through the house and up the stairs with an urgency he’d not felt before.

His lips moved to brush down your neck, nipping at the tender skin as he went. Once in his room, he closed the door even though you were the only two there. Joel kissed each new patch of skin bared as he removed your clothes until you were completely naked. Easing you back onto his unmade bed, a low growl rumbled from deep in his chest when your fingers slid along his scalp and tugged on his hair. Fucking lord did he love how you touched him.

“Fuck, I need to taste you, pretty girl.”

He’d never seen anyone or anything more beautiful in his life as your naked body writhed on his bed, eager and yearning for his touch, and Joel knelt to worship at the altar of you.

Starting at your delicate feet, Joel’s fingertips traced every inch of you until he reached the apex of your thighs. Leaning forward, he let the scruff of his facial hair tickle along the flesh of your inner thighs, pressing open-mouth kisses along the soft skin as he went. Grinning as you trembled, he met your wide gaze as he leant forward, tongue exploring your folds.

The first taste of you set his soul on fire. Sweet like honey yet more addicting and thrice as satisfying, Joel licked at your clit, tongue occasionally dipping down into you, slurping greedily at the very essence of you.

He couldn’t have thought of a more delicious dessert.

His movements elicited sensuous moans that shot straight to his cock, his jeans quickly becoming too tight and uncomfortable. Seeking a little relief, his hips began grinding against the mattress as he brought you closer and closer to the edge, fingers soon assisting his tongue in driving you mad. Just when he thought he might blow his load in his jeans, again, you came, crying his name out, the syllables drawing out in a beautiful, lyrical drawl. Working you through it, Joel drank down every bit of your release like a thirsty man in the desert.

“Fuck, darlin’. You taste fuckin’ delicious. I could live here, between your legs, for the rest of my life, surviving on just you.” Joel stood as he spoke, gazing down at your blissed out form on his bed as he tore off his clothes, one large hand palming his cock before he practically dove into bed with you.

“You’re too good at that, Joel Miller,” you said, the words falling lazily from your lips as you recovered from the singularly intense orgasm. Swooping down, Joel kissed you passionately, offering you a taste of yourself lingering on his tongue.

Letting his body continue to do the communicating for him, Joel shifted his hips, grinding gently against you while his mouth devoured yours. Groaning as your nails scratched down his back, he reached a hand down to guide his cock toward its home in your pussy. Dark eyes opened wide, Joel watched your face as he entered you, delighting in the scrunch of your nose and the way your eyes squeezed shut before popping open again at the sensation of him splitting you open.

With long, slow, oh so deep, strokes, Joel made love to you, telegraphing the depth of his feelings in the only way he knew how, until you were writhing in pleasure beneath him. Afterwards, he cleaned the mess between your thighs and held you close until you fell asleep with your head resting on his chest. Only then, did he finally whisper the words he longed to say all night. “I love you, too.”

Joel stayed awake for a while, listening to your gentle snores and the soft sighs you made in your sleep. He loved that you let your guard down with him, that he was the man who got to hold you while you slept. In the darkness of night, Joel made himself a promise that he would not fuck this up before falling into a deep sleep of his own.

His dreams were particularly vivid, the sensation of your mouth around his cock so strong he’d swear it was real. He’d never experienced your mouth around him like that before, though, so it couldn’t be real. Joel let his dream-self enjoy every moment, your lips around his shaft and tongue teasing the throbbing vein along the underside of his cock a divinity he’d never known before. At one point you took him so deep that a loud, guttural moan escaped his lips, hands clenching in your hair.

Eyes popping open, the moan carried on, rumbling from deep within Joel’s chest as he glanced down to find you feasting on his hardened length. It wasn’t a dream after all.

“Fuuuccckkk,” his voice, still rough with sleep, drew out the word as he watched you go down on him. Your mouth a form of heaven he suffered too long without, the cheeky, mischievous look in your eye making the pleasure more intense. You clearly enjoyed the act nearly as much as he did.

It didn’t take long before your wanton rhythm and sinful mouth had him coming down your throat, your name a prayer recited over and over in that gravelly voice. “Jesus fucking Christ, darlin’. Where’d you learn to suck cock like that, hmm? Your mouth is like God damn heaven.”

Joel’s chest heaved as you gulped down every drop of his spend, tongue darting out to lick the last bit from the little slit on his cockhead before sliding over your lips. You visibly swallowed, savoring the taste of him; his eyes glued to your mouth the whole time. His hand came up, caressing your face with the love he couldn’t yet voice shining brightly in his eyes, and his thumb traced along your plump bottom lip.

“My little gummy worm,” he murmured, delirious from coming so hard. “Felt so good wrapped around my fat cock.”

Crawling up his body, you settled your weight atop him and pressed your lips to his, letting him taste a hint of himself on your tongue as licked into his mouth, returning the favor from the night before. The kiss was languid and sloppy, perfect for a lazy morning waking up together.

“You tasted good, all salty and musky,” you said once you broke away, voice raspy from having his dick halfway down your throat.

“You can wake me up like that any time you’d like, darlin’.”

The two of you cuddled for a while, neither of you too eager to start the day knowing you didn’t have anything pressing to do. Those unspoken words bubbled in Joel’s chest the whole time, begging to come to the surface, to be spoken aloud and given credence. Still, he hesitated without quite knowing why. Finally rolling out of bed around 10, you jumped into the shower while Joel threw on some clothes and ran out to grab some breakfast.

He just pulled back into his driveway, a bag with a few bagel breakfast sandwiches in one hand – he got an extra in case you wanted pork roll instead of bacon – a coffee and orange juice clutched in the other, when JB’s truck pulled up in front of his house.

Settled on the couch after your refreshing shower, legs tucked under you while scrolling through your phone, you heard Joel’s truck pull up. Waiting for him to come in with breakfast for you both, you were caught off guard by the deep voices rumbling in the front yard. You sat up, peeking through the blinds to find your dad out front, hands on his hips as he spoke to Joel.

Oh shit.

You couldn’t discern their facial expressions from that angle and moved to the front door, quietly easing the heavy wood open to peek out and eavesdrop. They had to be talking about you, right? There was no hiding or pretending you weren’t here, especially with your car parked in the driveway right next to Joel’s. After your dad’s comments last night, you wondered if he planned this ambush then.

“I knew she’d be here,” you heard your dad say, but you couldn’t read his body language clearly. His hands were on his hips still, but there was a smile on his face. “You sweet on my baby girl, Joel?”

You couldn’t hear Joel’s response, his gravelly voice pitched too low for your ears to catch across the distance, but you could see him smile hesitantly even as his broad shoulders hunched slightly. Whatever it was caused your dad to chuckle and punch Joel playfully.

“I knew it!” your dad exclaimed, the sudden loudness startling you. “I knew you two would hit it off, I just wasn’t sure how long it’d take.”

You caught Joel’s response this time, his surprised voice pitching upwards. “You’re not upset?”

Walking toward the house without invitation, your dad paused. “Why the hell would I be upset? You’re a good man, Joel, and I know you’ll treat her well. And she’ll be good for you, too, I have no doubt. Now, you got enough in that there bag for breakfast for three?”

Your shoulders sagged with relief as you eased the door open. “I thought I heard voices! Hi Dad,” you greeted. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey Spud. I could ask you the same thing, but I knew I’d find you here.” Pulling you in for a hug, he ushered you inside. “I got tired of waiting for you two to come clean and thought I’d put you both on the spot.”

Eyebrows shooting up, you glanced at Joel before meeting your dad’s gaze again. “How did you know?”

Giving you a shrug, he said, “You two weren’t exactly subtle and a father always knows.” Nudging your shoulder, JB turned to Joel. “You’ll find that out soon enough, my friend. I can’t wait for the trouble that Sarah will give you.”

The three of you sat at the small dining table, digging into the breakfast sandwiches, your dad insisting you tell him how long you and Joel had been seeing each other and how it all started. Relieved to finally have the truth out there, you told him the story and JB chuckled.

“That about tracks. That’s right around when I started to notice something different between the two of you. And it sure explains why you hardly gave Annica the time of day on your date.” JB gave Joel grief about that failed date for weeks knowing that there was something – or someone – else drawing the man’s attention. JB had the feeling back then that it was you, his baby girl, his grown-up Spud, who captured the single father’s attention.

“You sure you’re okay with this, Dad? I mean…” your words fell off, not really knowing what to say. You’d be heartbroken if your dad wasn’t okay with a relationship between you and Joel, especially now that you verbally admitted to being in love with him.

“Are you kidding? I’m happy as a pig in shit that the two people I care about most like each other.” Your dad was all smiles, beady eyes sparkling with mischief. “In fact, I was planning on setting the two of you up if you didn’t figure things out for yourselves first. Tommy was in on the plan, too, and was the one who suggested we give it a little time. Little shit never told me it became official, though.”

Sitting back in your seat, you giggled with relief. All that time spent fretting over what your dad might think, feeling guilty for dating his best friend and hiding it from him for so long. It was all for naught. You should have known he’d love the idea of you two together.

“So, when’s the wedding?” JB asked, a shit-eating grin spread across his lips as you and Joel froze, eyes darting to each other in wide-eyed panic. Your dad practically guffawed at his own humor while you two were practically having a panic attack. “I’m just kidding – there’s no rush. Just make sure you treat her right, Joel.”

Recovering from the initial panic – not that he didn’t want to marry you, eventually, just not quite this soon – Joel laughed a little nervously. “Of course, JB. I’ll always treat her right. I, uh… I love her.” His gaze shifted to you, heart showing firmly in those dark chocolate orbs. “I love you, darlin'.”

tbc

Taglist: @mellymbee @untamedheart81 @anoverwhelmingdin @runningmom94 @leilanixx

@pedropascalfan221 @lovelyjess69 @sarahhxx03 @sofiparallel @tammythr

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@marirxse @lizzie-cakes @tynakub

[silentcryracha]

❍ ‗ Whenever she wants (Hyunjin) ‗ ❍

Pairings : Hyunjin x f reader

Summary : A nice dinner with friends ends in a heated night for you and your husband.

Genre/warnings : Fluff plot with some (long ass) context, ends in smut. Unprotected sex (don't do it you fools), some mutual touching, f oral receiving, coming inside (with a purpose ;) but no breeding kink per sé) STRICTLY 18+

Word count : 5.4 k

A/n : This a sequel to my Baby Fever one shot, but it can also be read as a standalone, you decide <3. This one has been requested by a few people, so I hope both you and them enjoy it!

ps: There could be grammar errors. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎

Part 3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was a cold evening in the middle of winter season, end of November to be precise. One of Hyunjin's favorite football teams, which also happened to be one your best friend's husband favorite too, was playing tonight. You weren't exactly an expert in the matter, but according to your husband, it was gonna be a big night.

So, in the end, you all decided to go out to have dinner together. You've already been to that pub before, it was a quite small but very nice and cozy place owned by equally nice people.

You friend texted you a couple of hours before, informing you that a few other people would be joining you. She apologized in advance, expressing her slight annoyance, but she also mentioned how these people essentially took her husband's mention of his plans as an invitation.

You were in fact a little annoyed too, but responded quickly not to worry about it and that in any case the men would've been busy freaking out and being loud away from your table. You knew that neither Hyunjin or your friend's husband were gonna be the type to lose their shit for a sports match in public, so you didn't really care.

Around seven pm you and your husband were ready to go. You turned around to pick up your bag and saw him getting out of the room's bathroom, fixing the dark gray wool sweater's cuffs. His black hair were tied in a half up ponytail, shiny and soft looking. His look was completed with black fitting jeans, gray sneakers, and a silver metal watch that matched the buckle of his leather belt.

He must've felt your gaze on him, so he looked up and smiled sweetly while picking up his long coat from the hanger.

"Are you ready?" you ignored his question, jokingly crossing your arms to your chest, barely hiding a smirk.

"Don't you think that you look a little too good?" he huffed out a laugh, finishing to button up the dark coat. He then walked towards you, leaving a kiss on your forehead.

"Not as good as my wife. Shall we go?" he retorted. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at the cheesy response, but nonetheless you still smiled.

"Yeah, sure, let's go"

-

In about fifteen minutes you reached the pub. The parking lot was quite busy, you noticed. Hyunjin rested his hand on your back as you walked towards the entrance, and slid it around your waist to pull you closer when you had to make your way in between the standing people and the tables.

You were looking around, trying to find your friends, until you heard your husband gasp dramatically and remove his hand gently from your back. You turned your head and saw a small baby, followed by his dad, running clumsily into the arms of the man who had now squatted down.

"Woah look who I found! If this isn't my favorite nephew!" you laughed at his funny tone. The boy fell into Hyunjin's arms, only for him to pick him up, walking back to his dad.

You followed suit, the baby smiled at you, babbling your name and reaching his hand out. You scrunched up your nose in a smile, grabbing the little hand gently and saying hi back.

"Thank you for catching this scoundrel. I almost lost him about three times in the span of twenty minutes." you both couldn't help but laugh at his 'tired dad' tone, and gave him a quick hug.

"He's a little runner, this one" you replied, eyeing your friend's slightly zoned out expression. You couldn't help but bite back an amused smile. She really wasn't enjoying whatever conversation the other 'extra' people at the table were having and it was quite obvious, to you at least.

"Heard we're having some extra company." your tone was ironic as you slightly nodded you head towards the table. There must've been around ten people in total, some couples among them too. Your friend's husband huffed, giving you an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry, guys. I happened to mention our plans to one colleague and suddenly everyone and their damn partners decided to tag along for some reason." you put your hand on his arm for a second, reassuring him that you were kidding. You knew he was too polite anyway to even try to say something.

"It's alright. Let's just go- wait where's Hyune?" you both looked around and found him standing near a big aquarium, the almost two year old still in his arms. He was pointing at something, talking to the baby who seemed hypnotized with the bright lights and colors of the fish.

You couldn't help but smile and stare at them, forgetting everyone else for a second.

"Oh thank God, you're here. I swear if I have to listen to one more word about your fuckass boss-" your friend had joined you, making her presence quite clear. You blinked a couple of times, coming back to reality and turning to give her a hug.

"Of course it's the boss talk at an off duty dinner." you replied, ironically. She smiled in amusement, shaking her head. She must've noticed Hyunjin and her son, because her eyes softened and a 'aw' left her mouth.

"He really is perfect, isn't he?" she commented, clearly trying to mess with her husband that instantly pouted.

"What? But what about me? Your own husband?" he was obviously playing along but the interaction wasn't any less funny for that.

"My husband, just had to chase around a eighteen months old for three times in a row." she stressed the words "My husband" just like he did, making you laugh harder.

"But he's lucky both me and him love him very much." she concluded, kissing his cheek. Hyunjin had started to walk back to you, the child suddenly walking on his own legs again, holding his hand for support.

"But maybe he likes his uncle Hyunjin better, uh?" she said again, her voice high pitched and in baby talk mode. She bent down, opening her arms for her little boy that giggled and called out her 'mommy' adorably. Her husband comically sighed at his wife's teasing but quickly smiled, pinching gently his son's cheek.

Hyunjin was also smiling brightly at the sight as he joined your side, wrapping his arm around your waist, kissing your head softly. You resisted the urge to nuzzle his neck and instead patted his chest gently, following with "C'mon, let's go meet these colleagues. Or they'll think that we want to avoid them."

"I wish." Your friend jumped slightly to adjust the baby in her arms, rolling her eyes.

-

You ended up joining the rest of the people at the table, introducing yourselves to everyone. The dinner proceeded quite smoothly, with you and Hyunjin mostly keeping to yourselves.

Not for any particular reason, but you didn't know them, and besides, your friend wasn't totally wrong when she said that all they were talking about was work and topics related to it. You did get a few questions though, especially nosy ones.

"So, how long have you been together?" one of the women asked politely. She was probably one of the more quieter ones, and you could tell that she just wanted to make some small talk.

"We have known each other for some time, but we've been actually been together for three years, and now just a little less than six months married." you responded, a small smile playing on your lips. You saw Hyunjin look at you lovingly and mirroring the smile with the corner of your eye.

"Oh that's really sweet, you seem like such lovebirds." she chuckled, placing a hand on her own husband's wrist. He was distracted by talking with other people but still quickly acknowledged her with a small smile before going back to his conversation.

Before either of you could add anything, another female voice interjected. This other woman was also older, maybe in her forties or early fifties. She rested her chin on her joined hands, elbows on the table. Her gaze was ambiguous and, you noticed, quite fixed on Hyunjin.

"Aren't you a little young to settle down?" about three or four people, including both of your friends, suddenly seemed to start to pay attention to the conversation.

"I mean, if I were you ...I would've simply waited a little more. What if you suddenly felt attracted to someone else? The 'divorce-at-twenty-or so-year old' doesn't look that good on a resume" you felt Hyunjin slightly shift uncomfortably next to you, his arm currently extended behind you, resting on the chair's edge.

"A resume?" you inquired, tilting your head imperceptibly to the side and raising an eyebrow. She smirked for a second, probably noticing how you purposefully avoided commenting on the first part of the discourse. Your face screamed 'It's none of your fucking business' and everyone probably caught up on it.

Your husband certainly did, because his fingertips started to lightly move on your shoulder, in an effort to calm you down. He wouldn't have gotten involved in such a shitty discussion, but he also knew that you wouldn't turn your cheek so easily.

"A relationship resume. Or past experience pillowtalk after some fun, if you will." she shrugged. Your friend suddendly decided to send her husband to take a walk with their kid, fearing the conversation to become vulgar. Of course her, being her protective and polemic self, she wouldn't miss it.

He caught up quickly and took the boy by the hand, guiding him towards the big screen where some of his other colleagues and people had already gathered to watch the game start.

"That's quite the thought process." you replied, not exactly trying to hide the hint on venom in your tone. "But, regardless, I think that mature people wouldn't care about such details. Especially if they don't want anything to do with you after." the woman finally shifted her gaze to you. You could tell that she was a little taken aback, but didn't react much.

"You know, the fun." you added finally, taking a sip of your soft drink. Hyunjin sighed softly, munching on his lip to hide a smile.

Your friend casually put her hand over her mouth for a second, trying not to react too much. The other people listening also either looked away or cleared their throat awkwardly.

"Yeah, maybe." she gave up, also taking a sip from her alcholic drink. Maybe that's why she chose to embarrass the fuck out of herself, you thought.

"Either way, we are very happy right now, which is what matters at the end of the day. Other people can do whatever they want." your head snapped to look at Hyunjin, which you didn't expect would even respond. But you were glad that he felt the need to remark that, especially since that woman was clearly trying to get a reaction out of you, thinking maybe that he would've cowered out. But he didn't.

And with that, this weired conversation ended and suddenly, almost to break the icy vibe that fell over your table, you heard very loud cheering. You saw that a lot more people were getting up to get more drinks and gather closer to both the big screens at opposite ends of the large room to see the team play.

-

Hyunjin ended up getting dragged along with your friend's husband and their son, and with the rest of the crowd, so your friend took the chance to ask you to get a breath of fresh air. Which of course was code for 'let's get out of here and rant, please'. You followed her outside, throwing your jacket around your shoulders to shelter yourself from the cold.

"What was that fucking woman thinking? Imagine if it was in fact, a work dinner. I imagine what kind of 'resume' she would have, pft" she immediately blurted out, crossing her arms to tighten her own coat around herself.

You rolled your eyes, sighing deeply. You kind of wanted to tease her about having a dirty mouth as soon as her son wasn't around, but if you had to be honest, you still felt somewhat upset.

"I have no fucking idea. Did you see how shameless she was? Looking Hyunjin up and down like she wanted to fucking devour him." you spat out, looking around to distract yourself. You felt extremely irritated. And maybe a bit jealous, but mostly irritated at the fact that someone would have the audacity to just behave in such a manner with you present.

Like, you were standing beside him, he had his arm around you, and yet she still tried to make you look fucking dumb and being shameless with a married man. Not gonna lie, it's hard to think about someone who wouldn't be attracted to Hyunjin, but damn?

"I know, right?" you friend agreed, "But remember who actually does get to 'fucking devour him'." she added in a teasing tone, quoting your words with her fingers. Your head snapped back at her, a little taken aback from the sudden mood shift. But you wouldn't expect anything less than a whiplash from her, and you loved her for it.

"Yeah, right." you bit the inside of your cheek, miserably trying to hide your smirk. She laughed, nudging your shoulder with hers.

"And he made it pretty clear, too. What a sight it was." she teased you again, "You know what else was a sight? Him being so effortlessly attractive while playing with a kid. I still don't know how you don't have one yet, y/n." she dramatically sighed, making you chuckle.

"It's in our plans. At first we agreed to wait until after the wedding. Then, if you remember, the birth control gave me some issues, so the doctor recommended to take it easy for some time. Of course we both agreed and then just... I don't know, I mean the conversation hasn't come up again in the last four months I guess." she nodded, remembering you mentioning your visits to her.

"But you're okay now, right?" you nodded back, responding with a yes, and that it wasn't anything that couldn't be fixed.

"Well then, you better hurry up, or you'll have to have twins to catch up to me." your eyes widened, taking in the phrase for a couple of seconds.

"Shut the fuck up! Are you pregnant again!?" you exclaimed, probably a little too loudly, because a couple of people, that were also outside, gave you a look. Your friend laughed, shushing you. You brought both hands to your mouth, still genuinely shocked at the news.

"Yes, keep it down. I still haven't told him yet." she said, just a little shyly. You pulled her into a hug.

"Congratulations, oh my God? Also, why? You know he's gonna be so happy!" you reassured her, pulling back to look at her.

"And also, how long have you known? You gave birth less than two years ago" she laughed nervously, but still humorously.

"I found out just about a week ago. The test said around three weeks, so I'm not sure. I'll tell him and then book an appointment, I think." her tone was serious at first, but then she shrugged casually, failing to hide a guilty smile.

"Turns out that not even sleepless nights and an unhinged eighteen months baby can't cancel out the horniness." your mouth went agape and you slapped her arm jokingly.

"You rabbits! Oh my God!" you both laughed. Just at that moment, the pub's door opened, showing Hyunjin looking around for you. His eyes quickly found yours and he smiled sweetly, walking towards you.

"Aren't you cold?" he spoke softly, standing behind you and rubbing your arms gently. You turned your head, giving him a peck on the lips.

"It's fine. She keeps me on the edge." you joked. You friend snorted a laugh, clicking her tongue humorously.

"What's the topic?" he asked jokingly. You both shook your heads, laughing a little.

"Just girls talk. Is the game over yet?" she cheked her phone to see the hour. Hyunjin nodded. "Yeah, they were pretty quick, almost half an hour early. We won though, that's the important thing." he smiled proudly. You chuckled, extending your arm above your shoulder to cup his cheek with your hand.

"Of course it is, honey." your friend bit her lip to hide a smile and decided to leave you two be. She sighed and moved past you, towards the entrance.

"Well then, congratulations for the winning night. I'm gonna grab my two fanboys and go to bed, feeling kinda tired after all that shit talk." both you and Hyunjin couldn't help but laugh at that. You bid her goodnight, agreeing that you coming back inside to say bye to those people wasn't all that necessary, and then walked back to your car.

-

The car ride was pretty quiet, except some small talk about the dinner, but neither of you really mentioned that one wired conversation. You arrived and walked back inside hugging, and after that you each changed clothes and got comfortably in bed.

"You still smell damn good, by the way." you commented, hugging his torso while nuzzling his neck. He was halfway sat straight, his back against the bed frame.

He was holding you close with one arm while absentmindedly scrolling through his phone, something about social media posts of the game. The dim, warm toned light of the bedside lamp making you sleepy.

"Oh yea?" he smirked down at you, "Then that perfume money were well spent." you just hummed in agreement, closing your eyes and relaxing. He waited a couple of seconds before speaking again.

"By the way... I'm sorry for what happened tonight. If I knew that a wired person like that would've stirred up shit, I would've canceled the whole thing." you re-opened your eyes, looking up at him, your hand gently stroking his stomach.

"It's not your fault, Hyune. I actually wanted to thank you for speaking up. You didn't even had to acknowledge her, to be honest. I know how much you hate these situations." you respond, genuinely. He locked the phone, putting it on his bed side table, and turned on his side to look at you directly.

"I'm still sorry. Also, of course I had to. You're my wife, my partner, my love. I wouldn't let anybody have a word on it. Especially thirsty women old enough to be my mother." you hid your face in his shoulder, laughing. He chuckled, happy that he managed to make you smile.

"Can't really blame her, at the end of the day." you said, starting to leave featherlight kisses on his neck. He swallowed, making his adam's apple go up and down.

"What, mmh- what do you mean?" he stuttered, clearing his throat. At the same time, he started to slide his fingertips up and down your back. As a response, your kisses got messier. You gave the skin small kitten licks and light bites.

"Don't play coy, you know you're hot" you laughed faintly, starting to lift his shirt to move your kisses to the skin of his abs, stomach and slowly to his ribs. His breaths started to get deeper, and he even let out a small moan.

"What about it?" he responded, cocky. You smiled against his skin, deciding to descent again with your mouth, teasing him closer to the southern zone where you could feel he was getting hard.

"That it's reasonable to think why someone would want to fuck you into next week" he hummed, so deeply that you could feel the vibrations where your mouth met his body.

He then gently cupped you face, making you lean back so that he could latch his lips to yours in a deep kiss. He interrupted the kiss to talk and you lowkey whined at the loss, making him laugh lightly.

"Maybe. But then again, you know who actually gets to fuck me into next week?" he spoke lowly, making you shiver. He was waiting for a response, but you were already too dizzy on his kisses to notice.

His fingers gripped your face gently, making you look at him. His eyes, shiny and intense, looking into yours.

"Your wife" you whispered, turning your head slightly to take his thumb into your mouth, and started sucking on it. At that point he groaned, removing his hand from your face and switching positions so he was now hovering over you.

"Fucking right you do" he attacked your neck and collarbone, pulling your shirt down to expose more of your skin. You quickly pushed him back slightly, grabbing the hem of his shirt to take it off of him, and he did the same with you, leaving you completely bare since you weren't wearing a bra.

"I'm yours, and yours only" he said breathless but with such intensity that it elicited a moan from you. His mouth started to kiss, nip, suck and lick at one of your tits, while he grabbed the other one with just enough strength to get you even more lightheaded.

"Fuck- Hyunjin" you gasped when he grazed one of your nipples with his teeth, "And I'm yours" you managed to respond, your fingers tangled in between his dark locks, lightly pushing him onto your chest.

He suddenly detached from you, making you whine at the loss, and also at the sudden chilly air hitting the wet spots on your breasts, where his mouth was just seconds before. Hyunjin didn't waste time, removing both your tracksuit pants and underwear in one go, disposing of them on the ground next to the bed.

"Yes, my pretty wife" he kissed your hips and then up your legs messily, "Only mine"

"My beautiful love" he whispered. You could've melted on the spot at his words, if only the fact that he was now licking and biting the inside of your thighs wasn't making you mad with desire.

"Hyun- Hyunjin, please" you couldn't stop the desperate tone in your voice, and it amused him. He chuckled against the skin on your thigh, moving his right hand from your hip to your pussy.

You had closed your eyes in the meantime, so the sudden touch, even though featherlight, made you gasp and look down. His mouth was still leaving kisses on the upper inside part of your thigh, so close yet so far to the zone where you needed him the most.

"I liked how you put that woman in her place" his voice mixed with humor while his fingers had started to spread your wetness around, up and down your slit and then around your clit, which made you buck into him a little.

"What-" you were confused for a second, that awful person completely out of your mind already.

"You're really hot when you get mad, you know?" he kept going, his fingers kept on touching your pussy, until he teased your entrance with just two fingertips. Your hands gripped the sheets, your chest going up and down deeply.

"You have this habit... this cute thing where you go like this-" as he said it, he tilted his head to the side, looking up at you as he took a long lick throught your slit, from your entrance to your clit.

You moaned loudly, that single lick making your body physically twitch. The whole thing was becoming too much and you felt the corner of your eyes get wet with tears.

"Hyunjin, stop it and just get to work already" you blurted out, looking at him with such a serious frown that it made him chuckle again.

"Exactly what I mean" he responded, and after that really got to work. His whole mouth started to alternate open mouthed kisses and licks on your whole slit, but then mainly focused on your clit when two on his fingers easily entered you.

"Ah- yes, so good, Hyune" you mumbled, your mind fogged by the pleasure your husband was giving you. He hummed against you at the praise and started to move his hand faster, wet and lewd sounds proved just how absolutely drenched you were at that point.

After a couple of minutes he really started to suck harder on your clit while moving his fingers inside you in a come hither motion, and that was it for you. You came on his hand and mouth, your head thrown back in pleasure, eyes shut, breath heavy. He took all that you gave him, and then some more.

"Good girl" he mumbled after gently parting his lips from your pussy, still lightly touching you to allow you to come off your high slowly.

"My beautiful girl, so pretty" he positioned himself back up to your side, his clean hand coming up to move the few hairs that got stuck on your slightly sweat covered forehead.

"You did so well for me" he said again, kissing your head, and then completely pulling away from you to bring his still completely wet fingers to his mouth, sucking on them.

You looked at him, his eyes shiny from excitement, his forehead also lightly covered in sweat, his full lips wrapped around his own fingers. The same ones that he had used on you. He looked beautiful, so hot and erotic...a sight to behold. He was also looking down at you warmly, lovingly.

You didn't say anything and just reached out to gently remove his fingers from his mouth, and then kiss him. The kiss was slow, sensual and deep, a lot of tongue and licking, biting lips involved.

Your hand went down to reach for his pants, but he gently took your wrist to stop you.

"I'm okay, my love. You don't have to-" you interrupted him with a kiss, your hand sliding into his pants and then boxers. He moaned lowly in your mouth when you started to palm him and stroke his length.

"Take them off" you mumbled against his lips, and he nodded absentmindedly, using just one hand to get the job done, and just like that he was at your mercy.

You were about to slide down to his hips level to reciprocate the favor, but once again he cupped your cheek.

"If you want me to fuck you, I'm afraid that we'll have to have a raincheck on that, my love." he laughed faintly and a little embarrassed. You smiled at him softly, nodding.

"Aright then, but now it's my turn. Let me ride you, baby" you said sensually, eliciting a moan from him when you switched positions, and now he was laying down beneath you. You left a trail of wet kisses on his body but didn't waste time to reach his cock. It was perfect, in your opinion.

Smooth, on the longer side and just the perfect amount of girth that you could take while also feeling full. It's like it was made for you. He was made for you.

You completed each other in such perfect ways in everything, that you couldn't help to think that maybe this is what those romantic people refer to when they talk about 'soulmates'.

You spit on your hand, for good measure, since you were still more than enough wet and ready for him. You straddled him, your heat hovering barely over his hard cock.

You took him in your hand, slowly pumping a couple of times from base to tip. A couple of drops of pre cum swirled down your fingers and it was at that moment that you took a decision. You eyed him from under your lashes and saw that he was already so worked up that he had to keep his eyes shut and breathe deeply to not cum too fast.

So you didn't waste any more time and just positioned his cock at your entrance, sinking down on it slowly. His hips involuntarily bucked up, making his tip reach your deepest point. That chain of events made you both gasp loudly and then moan.

"Y/n, baby, I'm not gonna last long" he warned, breathless. You shushed him with a finger to his lips. You started to ride him slowly but steadily, making sure to covering his entire length in the process.

Hyunjin moaned softly, mouth agape and eyes half closed but still focused on you. His hands went to either sides of your waist and hips, then ass, to accompany your movements. You started to kiss him deeply while going a little faster, making sure to move your hips around.

It was making him go insane, so he just decided to catch you by surprise and sit up, your body flushed against him, his whole arms wrapped around you as he fucked up into you. Your arms instinctively wrapping around his broad shoulders, your fingertips gripping so hard to leave white dots on his tan skin.

"Fuck- y/n I'm so close baby-" he spoke, his mouth latched to your neck. You nodded, following his movements with your hips to encourage him.

"Wait- y/n, we didn't use a condom" he groaned "I gotta- fuck, I gotta pull out" he sounded desperate, so you reassured him again, making sure to let your intentions clear this time.

"It's okay, baby. I want you to come inside me." he slowed down his movements, looking you in the eyes in shock.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his genuine concern so sweet. You nodded, kissing him deeply again and speeding up you hips movements. Then you leaned to his ear, whispering "I want you to make me a mommy"

That phrase must've triggered something in him, because you suddenly found yourself on your back, again. Hyunjin over you, his cock still painfully hard inside you.

"That what you want, pretty girl? You want to be a mommy?" he teased slowly, in stark comparison to the deep strokes that he was giving you. You gasped, the rhythm leaving you breathless.

"I want to make you a daddy" you responded, your hands going up to cup his face and bring him closer to you to kiss him.

You gasped again, leaving his mouth and looking down. He had pressed one of his hands on the very low part of your belly, causing you such an overwhelming pleasure that you couldn't breathe.

"Then you're gonna be a good girl and take everything that I give you, right my beautiful wife?" his hips sped up, clearly searching for release. But of course he wouldn't come before you did, so his other hand went to work on your clit with fast strokes.

The mixture of his cock inside you, his hand on your clit and the other one pressing down on your lower belly was enough for you, and that's when you came. You saw fucking heaven, if you had to be honest.

"Oh my- fucking God, Hyunjin, oh yes, yes yes" you cried out, holding onto him for dear life. Your moans of pleasure and your pussy clenching so hard around him was his last drop, so not even after a couple of seconds he came too.

He came so hard that he had to lay on you for some time to calm down. You just held his head against your chest, caressing his hair. Both of you sticky and sweaty by now.

You relished in the feeling of his cum inside you, something that you haven't been feeling for months. Hyunjin slowly moved off you, and you both hissed when you lost contact, both still very raw and sensitive. He was panting, sitting back on his calves, admiring the mess that both of you made.

He then gently closed your legs, making you stay on your side, while he positioned himself behind you as the big spoon. He also threw the sheets on the both of you, to stay warm. A few minutes passed before any of you said anything.

"Why is it always like this between us?" he asked, a hint of humor in his voice. Your drowsiness was taking the lead on you, but you fought it off.

"Like what?" You replied, couldn't help but to yawn. He hugged you closer, his hand going to rest on your lower belly.

"Messy. Impulsive. Now that I think about it, our wedding day was the only organized day of our entire relationship." you both chuckle.

"It's okay. We're doing it out of love, so it's okay." you reassured him. He hummed in agreement.

"Look at us, not even parents yet and already setting bad examples for our kids." he continued, making you laugh and hide your face in his arm.

"We're going to do great." you concluded, a sweet smile on your face at the thought of your future with Hyunjin.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[t-tomuras]

⛏ ─── • 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬

Pairing: Gyuutaro Shabana x F!reader 

Warnings: Modern au, mostly gyuutaro pov, self-depricating thoughts (gyuutaro), use of petnames (baby, pretty thing, pretty girl), 'brat' mention, male masturbation (non descript), mild dry humping, fingering, oral (m+f receiving), messy blowjob / face / throat fucking, panty stealing, praise, mention of breeding, biting, idk lotta plot with some porn

Wordcount: 16.6k

Notes: Please don’t look too hard this is just a giant self-indulgent love letter to this man. Not thoroughly beta read, be gentle 🥹

He hates this job, he really does. The flood of faces day in and day out, the monotony of the same insipid meaningless pleasantries exchanged against his will lest his plucky little barely twenty one year old party animal manager tries to scold him for being ‘unfriendly’. It’s infuriating, to say the least, and he simply isn’t paid enough for it despite the obscene amount of hours he takes up because his boss (that never even sets foot into the independently owned store) refuses to hire anyone extra. 

Gyuutaro barely makes rent either, he’s thankful his roommate covers it without complaint when he can’t even though he hardly ever expresses any gratitude for it; he’s hardly ever home with how much shit he has to take care of. At this point the apartment was just proof of address because good luck getting a job when you’re homeless; he should know. 

Plus, why should he thank the striped asshole anyway? The room dedicated to him was only a fulfilled favor from the man’s brattle girlfriend and self-proclaimed sister of sorts but Gyuutaro didn’t refute the statement either. Hakuji wasn’t exactly a welcoming man but he’d do anything for his little ‘princess’ so his headache is Gyuutaro’s gain, for what it was worth anyway. 

He’d probably save more money if he didn’t send nearly every dime he had to his biological sister to ensure she never went without. A weekly ritual of scraping together what he can to give Ume as an allowance for whatever she so desired, things her scholarship doesn’t cover because he’ll be damned if his pride and joy would ever go without.

Even if that meant pinching pennies and skipping meals often to do so. It’s worth it to him, knowing she’ll be able to pursue her dream in clothing design and not have to take up a part time job to split her attention between. It’d be such a shame for her flawless face to bear the same dark circles that decorate his under eyes.

Thoughts like those are what get him through the doubles he pulls and minimal days off without killing anyone. Though, Gyuutaro swears he’ll hear the shrill ringing of cooler alarms along with the wretched chime of the convenience store doors opening and closing constantly in his sleep. He’ll probably hear it long after he quits, if he ever does. 

Maybe the job wouldn’t be so bad if he didn’t have to perform so much customer service; chatty elderly, rude and entitled soccer moms with their unruly little brats at six in the morning, burnouts that think they’re slick when they’re asking for cash back the second they walk inside and buy ninety-nine cent rolling paper. He hates it all, hates never being able to reach his boss and being expected to make judgement calls that are well above his pay grade like he gives more than a singular shit. Vendors and sales representatives coming and going with information on ads that he forgets the second they leave. 

All but one; one rep that comes in never dressed in any uniform the company surely provides. 

You always come in dressed casually where nobody would think you were working unless they’d seen you regularly. Black jeans because you “hate the work pants” with a plain black tee and a snapback hat that has your company’s logo embroidered professionally on the front with your hair pulled through the hole in the back while the fringe too short for the ponytail hangs from the sides, framing your face that you try and hide. You shake it up sometimes by wearing a company-provided jacket but only when it’s cold out or wearing your hair down entirely so it forces your hair to frame your face a little more than usual but he definitely prefers it like that. You always come in with a smile too, a sort of cheery that Gyuutaro would usually sneer at and waving to him behind the counter while making a beeline to the storeroom, grabbing a clipboard to sign in as proof that you even showed up in the first place even though he tells you often it didn’t matter. Gyuutaro was the only one ever here and if the teenager worked she’d call him a million times for questions she could figure out for herself but you flash him a playful little smile and tell him, “me signing in give her one less reason to call you on your day off.”

It didn’t though, the airhead would ask him where the sheet was despite it never moving from the same spot it’s always been in but he keeps that to himself.

You’re nice, that’s what he would say about you and probably the first and only kind word he’d used for anyone besides his sister for the first time in his entire life.

And it’s an objective truth, you’re incredibly friendly in a professional sense, he guessed anyway. Overly considerate as well. You asked about his day each time you spoke to one another but not in the obligatory way of menial conversation. You’re probably the only rep he even bothered to remember the name of, you’re the only one he’s ever taken the time to say more than two words to. Pretty too, objectively speaking of course, nice to look at so maybe that’s why he didn’t mind interacting with you more than the average person he was forced to deal with.

That’s the reasoning he gives himself anyway as Gyuutaro takes a second to look around the parking lot from the window, seeing if anyone else would come in before hopping over the counter and wandering over to the store room. It’s just to help you with whatever you’re doing, he’ll just see if you have any questions about inventory and then get back around to count the cigarettes or something; nothing more, nothing less.

You’re tapping something into your phone whenever he rounds the corner to the backroom, leaning against the doorframe with his hands shoved into the pouch at the front of his hoodie, the weight of them dragging the baggy material downward and giving him more space around his throat before clearing it ‘innocuously’’ to let you know he was there, sparing you from a fright. You look up for a second, face scrunched into a concentrated scowl that quickly melts into your usual soft look as you flash him a quick smile then get back to whatever you were doing on your phone. 

“Yer kinda early today, huh?” kicking off from his perch as he ventures further into the room as you glance over all the inventory. 

You’re scowling again whenever he gets closer, a short silence falling between you before you turn to him; nodding after heaving a bereft sigh after tucking your phone into your back pocket, “Yeah, reset guy called out so I’ve gotta do it instead because corporates breathing down our necks about the completion rate being so low. Boss told me he’ll cover anything else I have today but hey, I’ll get to bother you for a while.” 

He can’t help but chuckle at the way you stick your tongue out at him as if you lingering for an extended amount of time could ever be a bad thing, continuing to babble about what you’ll have to do and what’s happening with all the products in the store. It sounds like a lot, obviously it is since your schedule was essentially cleared for it. 

“You gonna’ need any help?” The question falls from his lips reflexively, surprising himself because he was never one to offer assistance to anyone, much more likely to make their lives harder and enjoy their suffering in the meantime.

The chime to the store's entrance doors rings when you open your mouth to answer, closing it quickly as you wave him goodbye with an apologetic smile as Gyuutaro rolls his eyes with a snarl to his lips. Pulling one hand from his front pocket and putting two fingers together at his temple paired with an exaggerated but muted explosion sound as he backs away from you to tend to the customer but he earns a cute, tinkling giggle from you over the semantics. He leaves you to your work while he helps the customer with whatever it is he’s needed to do. Put x amount on pump whatever, buying a ridiculous amount of junk food, vape stuff; whatever it is he’s not really paying attention while they’re talking to him and he pushes buttons on the register as that melodic sound plays on repeat in his head until you emerge from the back, his eyes on you instantly. 

It’s obvious he’s staring at you, too, watching while you walk back and forth from the storeroom and between the aisles and displays of different products. Pushing standees around as kicking stacks to certain spots and bending over every so often to rotate perishable stock with a few choice words over the delivery drivers performances but it drains out quickly as Gyuutaro drinks you in. 

And your shirt that usually drapes down to your ass rides up to reveal just a peek of lacy panties, making a pervert out of Gyuutaro quickly. Warming his chest with wandering thoughts that stray too far and end up carrying the heat in his veins until he has to shed the oversized hoodie. 

Customers come in sporadically after that, keeping him tied to the register as he yells responses across the way to you the few times you poked your head around to ask him something. It’s about three hours whenever he’s finally able to actually move away from the counter and meet you in the storeroom where you’re tidying up, bent over yet again and his eyes instantly drag downward to enjoy the view but you sense his presence quickly enough. 

Standing up just as quickly as crystalline hues flit to meet your gaze, saliva gathering on his tongue with the way you greet him so warmly like he weren’t just ogling you for the umpteenth time today.

“Hey!” chirped as you toed at the neat stack you were tending to when he’d appeared, “I’m just about done, I’m sending back all this junk in these boxes.” You could’ve told him the sky was green and he wouldn’t have questioned you, let alone the shit to do with this building he prays burns down. You’re typing away at your phone again at a system he never bothered to learn after explaining all the changes he may actually retain simply because it was you who said it. 

Gyuutaro rubs at the back of his neck while you finish your professional spiel, biting at the skin on the inside of his cheek, “sorry I didn’t get t’help ya any, shit timing I guess,” but you smile at him nonetheless, waving your hand and dismissing his apology. 

“It’s not a big deal at all, promise. You looked like you were ready to jump over the counter and throttle someone anyway,” he likes the way you giggle at your own comment, how it lights up your whole face and makes him need to swallow a little more. Thinks it’s cute, thinks you’re cute and he’s actually pretty annoyed he didn’t get to speak to you more the one day you’re at his store longer than an hour. Scowl marring his perfectly imperfect features as he slouches and scoffs as he recalls the faceless nobodies that kept him away from you.

“Everyone’s pretty fuckin’ annoyin, like they don’t have a shred of sense. We were busier than normal today too, should’ve just traded you jobs for the day,” to which you only gave him a sympathetic pat to his forearm in response. 

It makes him feel warm, a comfortable heat in his chest, with how you always laugh at whatever he says or are just so genuinely enthused to speak to him and that you feel inclined to be near him or touch him. He scratches at the slope of his throat in a subconscious bid to fight the unfamiliar feeling you evoke, flicking the scythe earring that dangles from the tunnel in his stretched lobes while he thinks of what else to say; never one to actually desire for conversation to carry on.

“Uh, so, you gotta order more overpriced shit or?” Was all he could come up with, his cheeks heating rapidly when you look up from the small handheld clutched in your hands and nod before returning to whatever it is you do. Thankful for the dark marks he’s had since birth that spreads from his right cheek to just below the center of his left eye for once in his life as it disguises the blush that probably tints his pale skin. Sighing as he gives up on finding something to say and leaning against the doorframe again while peeking over your shoulder as you add and subtract god knows what to the store owners bill. Jarring him from his stupor when you shift from one foot to the other on your feet before you exhale heavily.

“Alrighty, ’m all done here now, you got much longer today?“ 

He groans long and low before he nods, scowl deepening  and scratching noisily along his sharp jawline, “yeah, Imma be here pretty late, gotta’ work a twelve today because my boss is a dick and the brat he made manager has an important college party she can’t miss. Ya can only tell me yer dyin to have a train ran on ya in so many ways.” 

That makes you frown, genuinely disheartened for a reason Gyuutaro can’t really understand yet, eyebrows scrunching as you chew at your plush lower lip for a second. The next moment you’re whipping your phone out of your back pocket and clicking several different apps before you turn it towards him and he sees the add contact screen, “Put your number in, I get off after I head back to our office to clock out and wouldn’t mind coming by to help.” 

“To bother me, you mean?” quipped in jest as he takes your device with a raised eyebrow and crooked smile that makes you squirm minutely under his gaze, tapping in his contact information and sending himself a text with a playful little middle finger and scythe emoji in it to save yours before handing it back to you. You laugh at the text, rolling your eyes with a nod while tucking your phone away and moving toward the door with Gyuutaro hot on your heels, “Bothering you is an obvious given, you should know that.” 

Playfully shooing you out the door in mock annoyance in response, hanging in the doorway as he sees you out to your car and for once the blaring chime doesn’t annoy him as it screeches in his ears.

The days don’t drag on like they used to after that, probably due to the fact that he spends all day on his phone now texting you. He’s in a better mood too, smiling more (at his screen but smiling nonetheless) because the conversation doesn’t feel forced or stagnant and you’re always engaging in one way or another and if you can’t think of anything to say you you send a meme or a picture of another location that you’re at for the day. 

‘You’d never do this’, your text bubble highlights, which makes him roll his eyes, tapping at his screen in between mindless tasks he can’t focus on. 

‘Probably would if it made you have to be here awhile longer,’ Gyuutaro smirks while he types it, lopsided grin splitting his face as he wonders if you’ll fluster over it or at the very least read it in his tone. He’s gotten a little more bold with you in the weeks you’ve been texting; mostly not so subtle hints of his attraction, telling you you’re cute for simple things and complimenting you in ways that couldn’t be considered platonic. You’re animated in the ways you respond too, displaying how what he says makes you feel with caps lock and unintelligible key smashes and Gyuutaro takes it as a good sign. The awkwardness of flirting with you had long since gone away because of it and he's learned you’re the incredibly nurturing type.

Displaying it overtly and subtly all at once with questions like, ‘Did you sleep alright? Have you eaten today? I’ll be in the area today do you want me to pick up lunch? Have a good day!

The more receptive you are to him the more he does it, always toeing the line of borderline sexting without plunging into it just yet.  

For now he’ll just enjoy the mutually casual flirting, he thinks it’s flirting anyway, that’s what his roommate's stray of a girlfriend (and his bonus sister, he guesses) says when she snatches his phone from his hands or reads the screen from over his shoulder. Taunting teasingly ‘serial killers got a girlfriend’ before they end up rough housing as he wrestles for his phone back until her man came to separate them and toss her over his shoulder.

Gyuutaro couldn’t say he was opposed to the notion, however, you’d creeped your way into his personal life instead of lingering at the doorway of his professional life only. You both text one another as often as you can, but he feels the times where he has to wait, keenly aware of every agonizing minute as he drums his fingers along the counter and clicks through apps on his phone; he even hears a phantom chirp of your text notification every so often and cringes at himself if he dwells on that feeling of desperation too long. 

Lets his mind wander in fleeting distraction when there aren’t customers to busy himself with. Gyuutaro thinks of how his roommate has made fun of him for checking his phone so often just yesterday, recalling the scene vividly in his mind's eye. 

Hakuji watching the lanky man waking his screen or unlocking and locking it back more times than he can count. His legs growing restless as he did so, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he lounges in the living room of their apartment. 

Pots and pans clatter as the bulkier of the two searched for the correct cookware as he commented from the kitchen, “y’know Shabana, it's pretty refreshing seein you this hung up on someone that isn’t your sister.” 

The heavily tattooed man doesn’t realize the connotations of his phrasing, or maybe he does, Gyuutaro could never tell when Hakuji tried his hand at banter. The response was the same regardless “fuck off, stripes.” 

His roommate puts his hands up in front of his torso in mock surrender, “just saying, seems like yer really into her, princess said the girl sounds into you and could be a good thing going.”

Gyuutaro didn’t respond further, simply sneered before retreating to his sparsely decorated room with his brows furrowed in thought over how the both of you interact and if the chemistry was really that palpable that people on the outside looking in could notice it too. 

Returning to that line of consideration now as he waits, ruminating on it and if there were different attempts Gyuutaro should make but it’s abandoned quickly when an eagerly anticipated response wakes his screen and your name graces the notification bar on display.

‘Miss me?’ He reads it in your voice, a sweet sound that rattles around in his head more than he’d willingly admit to anyone aloud. Lips curling up around jagged teeth as he goes to tap out a reply before the door swings open dramatically enough that it agitates Gyuutaro. Growl rumbling from his chest only to die in his throat when he sees you standing with a beaming smile before you hold up a plastic bag with two containers of takeout while you laugh at him. 

“Gotcha!” Exclaimed between your erupting giggle fit as you place the food on the chipping countertop as you make your way around the counter to him, “you should’ve seen your face you were about to lose your shit.”

The snarl he wears is significantly less menacing and off putting than any other that he’s adorned but only because it’s directed at you, “didn’ tell me you were stopping by pretty thing, didn’t even get time to make myself look all nice.”

You scoff as you lift yourself onto the adjacent counter facing the window, your back to it after you’ve laid out your respective meals, “always look nice, now eat, I know you haven’t since I came by yesterday.”

Gyuutaro doesn’t miss how you quickly slip in the compliment but you give him no time to refute it, chuckling himself as he shakes his head while grabbing his plate of food and the utensils that came with it. An upwards quirk lingers on his lips even as he takes a bite and lets his lids slip shut to savor the moment rather than the food itself, a pleasant heat pulsing softly behind his sternum as he realizes you’ve been subtly learning about him too. That you’re at least well versed enough to know how quickly he’d refute your genuine response to his sarcastic jab at himself. 

Instead he lets you have this win, enjoys the fact that you genuinely find him appealing instead of the nagging urge to mock you for it before you could mock him because there simply isn't a singular instance where that would transpire. You were too good for that, too good for him he knows but Gyuutaro is a selfish man that takes what he wants and unfortunately (but oh so fortunately despite how unaware of the fact he was) for you, you and your affection was what he had his sights on. 

‘I’m on vacation starting tomorrow,’ you break the rare silence that had blanketed the space after swallowing your own bite of food. Gyuutaro pulled from his musings with a confused sound muffled by his mouthful as he urges you to continue, “I’m not doing anything special. Staying home all week.” 

You want to squirm over his expression, still clueless with a thin brow quirked high on his forehead hidden behind long fringe that hangs in his face. Waiting a moment in case he just needed the time to process what you were saying but once he continues to miss the point you finally sigh and ask him outright, “Do you want to hang out with me sometime during the week?“

Only for an impish grin to spread on his devilishly handsome face that makes your throat, ears and cheeks burn with heat, “thought ya’d never ask. Just lemme know when ya want me.”

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You’re relatively busy the rest of the week after you inform him of your time off, tying up loose ends so you don’t run the risk of being contacted during your vacation and leaving notes for whoever will be filling in for you. Too dutiful in Gyuutaro’s opinion considering all the times you’ve ranted to him about your coworkers screwing you over as he thumbs away frustrated tears when you’ve reached your breaking point over the added workload. Always telling him that it’s easier for you in the long run if you just take care of things ahead of time but you ignore him when he reminds you of how you pick up everyone else’s slack but they don’t allow you the opportunity to do the same. 

It doesn’t sit right on his tongue and weighs heavy in the pit of his stomach but he lets it go when you ask him to; offering him placating words as if he were the one that felt overwhelmed. 

So he just opts to make you laugh because apparently Gyuutaro’s ‘so good at cheering me up’ and he ‘always knows just how to put a smile on my face’.

But your relief come the end of the week is palpable even without the several texts to him in all caps about how you’d completed all your tasks and written out all your emails for the ‘team’ so you’re ‘home free.’ You’re so ridiculously cute Gyuutaro can’t even stand it, embarrassed about how his heart skips a beat when you ask him his schedule and if he’ll want to come by this Sunday before he could even respond to your joy. He takes a moment to calm himself, exhaling slowly as you coordinate a short back and forth and commit to a plan.

Excitement making his stomach twist with a different sort of hunger than he’s ever suffered from before. Fuck, was he in love with you?

He wished he’d never asked himself that question, at least not before he was going to spend time with you outside of work. The first time he comes over is somewhat awkward, being alone with you in private, nevermind the fact that it’s in the sanctity of your home at that, surely would’ve been. 

The space is tidy, he notes, like you like to keep things neat and orderly the same way you do at work and he honestly isn’t surprised; demonstrating his assumption by holding out your hand for his keys as you toss them into the little bowl on the entryway table that houses your own set. Busying yourself as you move around the space before disappearing into the kitchen that wafts the smell of dinner throughout your home and makes him salivate.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” you call from the other room but Gyuutaro only coo’s a cool ‘kay’ as he seizes the opportunity to explore his surroundings as he meanders to your modest dining room table that doesn’t look like it can seat more than two people at any given moment.

There are only a few scattered pictures on the wall, family he presumes, mostly you and who he guesses is your mother as well as a few that are of people that bear no resemblance to you at all that Gyuutaro gathers must be your friends. Closest to the archway that leads into your kitchen is a singular ornately designed analog clock and some painted canvas’ on the opposite side that lead down the extended hallway that make him smirk to himself, a little pleased to learn on his own that you like to paint and you aren’t half bad at it either. 

Your home is dimly lit as well, curtains drawn for privacy and it blocks out a significant amount of natural light but it's rectified with lamps that cast a softer yellowish glow to illuminate the area. Overall you decorate pretty simply, modestly, keeping mostly essentials with the occasional knick-knacks placed sporadically so the space doesn’t feel so empty or bland. 

Pulled from his reverie when he catches sight of you preparing the plates for both of you, snarling his lip because like fucking hell you were going to do more than you needed to especially on your vacation, especially over something like this.

Broad palm and lithe digits with knobby knuckles take the ladle from your hands with ease, sucking his teeth at you when you go to protest with a cute whine but he stands firm. Taking your dish and holding it higher so you couldn’t try and snatch it from his hands as he spoons the steaming food onto the ceramic. You relent easily enough though, but not without any complaint as your shoulders slumping animatedly in exaggeration as you let him finish up making both plates instead, “I could’ve done it ‘taro.”

“Ya cooked,” short and to the point as he hands you your food, jerking his head backwards because if he acknowledges the cute nickname for him he doubts he could contain he already barely concealed desire for you, “I’ll serve it. How it works.”

Nevermind he’s never served another soul in his life that wasn’t blood related to him. What had you done to him? Will you keep doing it?

He hopes so as you retreat from him, exhaling slowly to calm himself before he follows you into the next room to find you already comfortably sat at your table; waiting for him to join you before you start eating. Something Gyuutaro never let Ume do while they were growing up, always wanting to make sure she’d had her fill before he’d even consider eating.

But food was plenty when it came to you, he knows how to pick his battles as well, Gyuutaro didn’t think he could get away with strong arming you with something simple like this again. Sliding into the cushioned seat next to you as he digs his spoon into the hearty stew after only a moment's pause. Puffing out a disbelieved chuckle when you make no move to start eating yourself as you stare expectantly at him. 

He rolls his eyes but take a decent spoonful and shovels the meat and potatoes into his mouth without even blowing on it to cool it off with little reaction besides a hum of satisfaction. Pointing the dirtied utensil at you when he swallows and lets the taste warm his belly, “s’great, now eat lil brat.”

The deliverance was a little curt but not insultingly so as you beam at him, rolling your lower lip between your teeth as you nod before finally tucking into your own plate with a playfully flippant, “was gonna, just needed to let it cool down.”

You do love your technicalities, Gyuutaro’s learned, “lucky yer cute, liars never are.”

Nudging at you with his elbow before the meal continues in amicable silence, interrupted with light conversation and Gyuutaro getting up to make himself a second bowl halfway through while you sit with him as he polished that one off as well.

This was probably the longest either of you had taken to eat any meal before, Gyuutaro never one to eat very often which was apparently in the way his skin clung to the bonier areas of his body; you because you bite off more than you could chew in other areas of your life and used the excuse of ‘never having the time to stop and eat.’

But this meal was enjoyable, one you both wanted to savor that didn't pertain to the food at all. Lingering at the table as you both idly chat a little bit more than you would when you see him at work or over text. You’d known about his sister of course but it’s more enjoyable getting to watch him talk at length about her more, have him detail to you about her personality quirks and cherished memories from their childhood that you’re sure she would be utterly mortified to know that he’d regaled them someone she hadn’t even met yet.

He was more like a proud dad than a loving older brother but you admire that about him, adored it rather. There weren’t many men like Gyuutaro that would accept that sort of responsibility over their sibling at such a young age, it shows you how good of a father he’d be one day before you nip that train of thought in the bud. 

You hadn’t even met the most important person in his life yet, nevermind that you weren’t even dating or discussing the prospect of it, what did you think you were doing with mental images of him cradling a precious little swaddle of a newborn that looks like a healthy mix of you and–

“Ya feelin alright?” his voice has you careening back to the present from a future you imagine a little more than you should, looking somewhat stupified then shocking at the cool feel of the back of his palm on your heated cheek, “feel warm.”

Your fingers wrap around his wrist thoughtfully before pulling it away gently, patting it assuringly only to chirp out tightly, ““m great! Soups n’stews just warm me up a little too much.”

You’re aware that that sounds less than convincing but you breathe a sigh of relief when he shrugs his shoulders with a smirk before figuring now was as good a time as any to start clearing the table. It makes you frown though, reaching for him quickly and grasping onto his baggy shirt, “you don’t have to do that, I’ll get it.”

Gyuutaro casts a glance over his shoulder to scold you lightly over this as well but his words die in his throat when he sees your crestfallen expression. His cleaning up feels like their time together was already coming to an end and you’d be lying if you said that wasn't more than disappointing. 

So he stops, stands less slouched than normal as he turns to you and lets his index finger hook beneath your chin to earn your gaze, “we’re gonna watch a movie yeah? What kinda asshole would I be if I dined n’ditched?”

His tone is so low and gentle paired with his touch as well as that soft expression on his face that he pulls off flustering and pacifying you in one fell swoop but you do the same to him in turn. Facilitating that pleasantly uncomfortable heat in his chest like a flickering flame that has smothering ash kicked from it’s core the moment your crestfallen expression melts from the warmth of your relieved smile.

This much of a change in mood so quickly, all because he said he’d be staying with you for a little while longer? If you’d told him weeks ago Gyuutaro alone was capable of that he’d have cackled maniacally in your face. 

Well, maybe not your face specifically, but still the sentiment stands, the notion would’ve been unfathomable to him. Gyuutaro favored souring people's moods and leaving a bitter taste in their mouths but the thought of doing that to you in any capacity makes his stomach twist in familiar discomfort.

He doesn’t realize you’re still within his grasp until you reluctantly pull yourself from him, reaching for the stacked dishes in his other hand only for him to shift it further out of your reach, “What did I say earlier?”

Your arm flails slightly, trying in vain to take the bowls from him before you huff in momentary defeat and fix him with a defiant pout, “that I cooked so you made the plates, not a thing was said about cleanin up.”

“It was implied.”

“Implied where, in your imagination?” Wrestling with him playfully as he gives you his back before your arms slip between his own but still only come up short thanks to his lanky limbs, “I can clean up two plates, seriously.”

“Didn’t ask,” purred with his back to you as long legs carry him into your kitchen with three easy strides, maneuvering about the area like he belonged there as he crouched to the cabinet below to grab a new sponge on assumption alone. You protest a bit more, knocking your hip into his in a weak attempt to bump him out of the way only to be quietly humbled over how he doesn’t even budge. Averting your gaze and pouting with warm cheeks when he glances at you with that shit-eating grin of his before leaning against your counter with your arms crossed in an exaggerated huff. 

Tapping your foot quietly against the hardwood floor as the sound of running water and the gentle clink of ceramics and metal fills the tranquil moment; simply watching Gyuutaro work comfortably in your kitchen and enjoying the delusion of domesticity until your heart races. Inhaling audibly and collating his curiosity as you scoot slightly away from him, patting your thighs because you’ve been too idle for too long.

“Actually.. Since you insist on not letting me clean in my own house, do you mind if I grab a shower? I don’t like taking one super late,” a habit even when you’re on vacation, trying to give yourself as much relaxation time before you finally decide to wind down for bed far too late in the night for how early you always seem to wake up. 

Gyuutaro gives a simple nod, resuming his self-assigned task but not without an internal scoff to himself and a smirk that fights it’s way onto his lips with the passing thought of his roommate being wholly aghast at Gyuutaro in this moment considering he never even so much as looked at the sinkful of dirty dishes back home.

Glancing over his shoulder again when he catches the motion of you awkwardly shifting your weight on the balls of your feet as he quirks his brow. Tilting his head for the dip dyed ends of his mop of wavy locks to shift out of his eyes, “Need somethin else? Or was that an invitation?”

You stiffen and he almost thinks he’s overstepped and completely misread everything between the two of you up to this point before he watches you press your palms to your cheeks the same way his sister does when she’s trying to calm herself down. Attempting to stammer out a response but you can’t even meet his gaze and as relief washes over him he taps his foot near yours and shoots you a damning wink, “m kiddin, take yer shower or I’ll start the movie without ya.”

“Don’t you dare,” scowling exuberantly, recovering from your momentary malfunction in a way that has Gyuutaro grinning, “make yourself comfortable when you’re done, swear I won’t take long.” 

He only responds with another nod, giving you an easy smile as he returns to the task at hand, grabbing a few of the stray tableware and cups while he was at it. He can feel you lingering though, feels your gaze on his back and it fleetingly makes the nape of his neck burn but he doesn’t resent the feeling. Another sensation only you stoke in him, one he doesn’t question because subconsciously he knows the cause even if he teeters between delusion and denial. 

You almost look in a daze from what he can glean from his peripheral everytime he sets a dish into your drying rack, snapping you from it as he flicks soaked digits in your direction, “doubt this is an efficient way to shower pretty thing.”

The way you squeal and giggle louder as he flicks more water at you before you race off down the hall to your bathroom makes his (now full) shrunken stomach do a flip, fluttering in another of many foreign yet familiar sensations he continues to amass from your presence. Drying his hands as he smirks over the dull thuds of your feet and the door at the end of the hall shutting hastily as Gyuutaro calls out, “can’t blame me for using all the hot water either yaknow.”

Surprisingly satisfied with what he accomplished he moves to linger in your living room idly with nothing to do, glancing about and opting to occupy his time by familiarizing himself with the dwelling after shedding his hoodie when he rounds the couch. Picking up your scattered candles and appreciating the sweet smells that recognized the times they clung to your skin or clothes before wandering further into your home. Hoping to gain more than a shallow glimpse into your life and how you live it outside of the small window he knows you from on a week to week basis or walls of text messages exchanged for hours on end could ever offer him.

Returning to the kitchen first, concocting a flippant excuse of having a sudden sweet tooth should you emerge from the corner without him noticing, not that he’d really need one for some innocent perusing. 

Starting off simple as he rummages through the fridge to see what you like only to find a random assortment of ingredients and a case of water. Frown marring his features with a slight growl, sucking his teeth because why the hell were you worrying about his eating habits when your fridge looked this barren? He’s a hypocrite for certain as he tells himself to get on your case about it later while straightening his spine and shutting the heavy door with an indignant scoff. Unsatisfied with his snooping yet as he opens and closes every cabinet in the room and stares into the pantry, growing bored before long and settling to just lounge in the living room.

Resolving to actually behave and respect your privacy.. That is, until he hones in on the sound of the running water of your shower trying and failing to muffle the sound of a melody sung in an impossibly sweeter tone than he already thought you’d had. Stalling mid stride, staring blankly down the hallway and at the simple door your voice emanates from.

A siren song for certain the way it draws him to you, craving to hear it more clearly as he closes the gap; allowing only the inch thick distance of the particle board and the few feet between it and your shower to separate you both. Leaning against the structure carefully with his ear pressed to the surface, almost holding his breath as he enjoys the sound of you. Arms folded over his chest with a ghost of a smile on his lips as his lids slip shut as if you were serenading him explicitly. Jarring when you a loud clattering of several things follows your cute little yelp, and he pauses to see if you’ll whine in pain, untensing when the sound never comes nor does the captivating cantical. 

But that’s fine for now, something else has stolen his attention anyway as he carefully pushes away from the bathroom door to push open another. Knobby knuckle nudging open the already already ajar entryway to the room across the hall.

Your room.

And he shouldn’t slink in, knows he shouldn’t slither through the marginally larger gap he created but, the lamp on your bedside table casts such a warm and, like everything else about you, inviting glow. Call Gyuutaro a moth to a flame if you wanted, vying for just a little bit more of you in any way he could get his greedy little hands on. 

Even for something so insignificant and inconsequential as the areas you dwell in, but there was an aspect of intimacy associated within the sanctity of where you seek solace and Gyuutaro has always been a man starved of many things. and since he’s met you you’ve only ever fed him more and more. He’s thankful you’d never taken the lesson to never feed a stray to heart. 

Because he wants to invade every fiber of your very being, infect your life slowly like the plague he saw himself as. Praying to any god that only ignored his pleas until Gyuutaro finally stopped asking and dolled out misery that he’d be terminal for you but in a softer, more affectionate way. 

The feeling festering in the space between his ribs as he stands in your sanctuary. Your room is as simply decorated as the rest of the house aside from a marked amount more pictures and tchotchkes that tell him more than idle chit chat ever could. 

Even silence is a conversation, easy to glean desired information so long as you were willing to look for it. 

Like that you loved deeply and cherish the moments you get to spend with those so fortunate enough you afford the affection if the candid moments immortalized in photos and preserved in protective frames are any indication. Friends mostly, some from your childhood, most from recent years alongside a lone photo of you with a woman you bare a vague resemblance to. Parental problems maybe? May you and Gyuutaro be kindred spirits. 

Perhaps that alone validates his next assessment. Where he grew callous and cold you chose to be kind and warm, obvious enough, to him, that you crave comfort as his eyes rove over the abundance of plush creatures of all varieties, stuffed foxes, cats, a pink fawn as well as a rotund bat plush that looked specifically tailored to cuddle artfully arranged around strawberry shaped pillows. 

Your bed itself reminds him more of a little nest with how it’s tucked into the corner of your room to accommodate the comforts artfully arranged around strawberry and heart shaped pillows along with the fluffiest comforter Gyuutaro has ever seen with another blanket folded at the foot of the bed. He wants to lie in it on the worst of days with you in his arms, curling around you protectively. Burns to bury his nose into your hair after kissing your crown as the smell of your shampoo, the sound of your breathing and the feel of your skin against his lulls him into the most restful sleep he’s ever gotten in his rotten life. 

Gyuutaro has to take a few steps back, berating himself over the faithless fantasies from his wicked and treacherous heart while staring at your empty bed. The longer he lingered the more likely he felt he’d be inclined to stay and for once he didn’t want to intrude or invade, not without your explicit invitation. 

Though he bumps into another piece of furniture on his exit, the rounded edge of the sturdy wood stabbing just below his shoulder blade causes him to hiss in pain. Pivoting on his heel with a snarl that quickly fades into benign curiosity as his hand strokes along the lip of your dresser.  

Drumming his fingers against the material as he purses his lips and quirks a thin brow. Weird place to put something like this, in his opinion, rocking on his heel and as he does he can catch a glimpse of the bathroom just outside of your own room. Easy access, it must be here for when you forget your clothes to spare yourself the shameful shuffle in the starke nude despite living alone. 

The thought makes him laugh, the scene a domestic one he’d never imagined of anyone as his hand rests over the top. Drumming his fingers against the hardwood as serenity turns salacious in his ever working mind. 

It’s shameful, he knows this already, but what wasn’t when it came to Gyuutaro? If he were a kinder, more compassionate man, the kind of man you deserved, the wherewithal to not violate your privacy like this would be a nonissue.

But he wasn’t, never even considered to be and doubts heavily he ever would; in this life or the next. 

So the drawers are already quietly opened with a practiced ease. 

And of course they’re all organized. Jeans, skirts, shorts, leggings and sleepwear in the bottom two drawers. The one above those holds all your shirts, long and short sleeves alike with some camis and tank tops and he chortles over the realization that you’ve sorted the storage's contents by the placement on your own body for the most part. 

Gyuutaro opens the top drawer last, he can hear how heavily he swallows as it creaks open, pausing with a scowl at the shrill sound. Is there any real reason for him to open the final drawer? No, not really, but there wasn’t any valid justification for coming to your room in general either; so, why should he stop now? Guilty is guilty, is it not, he’s always been punished severely regardless of his transgression anyway. It’s why he selfishly prioritized his own pleasure where he could and you being his currently coveted prize was enough justification to slide the drawer open further. 

Just enough to revel at the assortment of bundled silky and lacy underwear alternatively. He should be ashamed of himself, feel disgusting for how he cards through the variety of styles with a lidded gaze and lazy smile, but he doesn’t. 

Doesn’t still as he conjures images of you clad only in the pretty black, lacy pair with a precious little pink bow on the front while you stand between his spread legs with your hands on his shoulders before you climb to straddle him. Lashes fluttering over the daydream as he fists the fabric with a white knuckled grip before he forces himself from his reverie. 

Heaving a bereft sigh as his cock twitched and threatens to throb if he doesn’t leave now, quickly but carefully closing the drawer after he’s pocketed the lingerie before finally fucking leaving your room and just in time for him to hear the steady stream of water to stop. 

He’s in the living room again when the bathroom door opens and the humidity accumulated billows out. You're toweling your hair dry as you pad towards him, wearing a satin red camisole and dark dolphin shorts but you might as well be dressed to kill.

“Sorry I took a little bit, I just know after the movie I’ll want to go to sleep as soon as it's over,” there’s a ringing in his ears that almost drowns out everything you’d said to him. The sound blaring as crystalline hues quickly give you a once over as you cross in front of him  

Gyuutaro croaks out a tight ‘s fine’ as he sits sprawled on your sofa, one arm draped over the back of the couch as he slouches lower. Cursing inwardly as he folds his leg in a way that keeps his swelling cock from tenting the material of his jeans. Gritting his teeth and subtly tensing every muscle in his body to will blood flow anywhere else but you (always unintentionally and jn the best of ways) make his life harder. Plopping down into the plush cushions with a saccharine suspire that will fuel his fantasies later before leaning your head on his shoulder while clicking through several apps before settling on Hulu. 

So sweetly handing him the remote with a chirped ‘you pick’ like he wasn’t fighting for his life right now. He couldn’t be fucked to actually choose a movie so he chose some suggested horror flick and hoped for the best.  

It takes about fifteen minutes into the movie before he’s finally calmed enough to let his arm fall from its perch and drape around your shoulder and tuck you into his side properly. It’s criminal how easily you adjust into him too, shifting your weight more into your hip as your head tucks into the crook of his throat and your hand splays just over his diaphragm after you’ve pulled the throw blanket over you both. 

He doesn’t absorb anything from the movie, not that he’d really been attempting to anyway. Mentally occupied by how well you fit against him, how warm you are as well as committing the fragrant notes of your shampoo and body wash to memory. Mind wandering to anything else, though any and all thoughts still pertained to you, to stave off the dread of the movie ending because the last thing he wanted to do was to go home alone tonight. 

Until he notices how you grip onto him for dear life, whole body tensing before you flinch and fist the material of his hoodie tighter; all normal reactions to a horror film. Gyuutaro almost wants to chuckle over your reactions until you whimper and hide your face, trembling over the gory and frightening scene that has him hastily fumbling for the remote to pause it. 

You opt to hide in his throat when he does until his broad palm cups your cheek after a long moment and coaxes you to look at him, nose nudging against your own when he rests his forehead on yours. Cooing at you in the softest tone he could manage when you apologize for no reason while trembling in his hold, thumb swiping over the apple of your cheek as his fingers caress the hinge of your jaw. 

Your eyes are pretty when they’re glassy with tears but he doesn’t think he wants to see them this way ever again, not from this circumstance anyway. There were probably less selfish ways to comfort you but he tells himself he isn’t a selfless man as Gyuutaro closes minimal gap between you, sealing his lips over yours. Chaste and tentative at first, testing until you whine approvingly and press closer. 

It’s all the permission he needs to do what he does best; take. 

His hand slides to the curve of your skull to press you closer to him, leaning into the contact as he tilts his head with a hum. Your lips are as soft as he thought they’d be, softer maybe but he won’t get too lost in those details. Not when you return his fervor by weaving your fingers into his loose locks, blunt nails scraping deliciously at his scalp and how you barely break the contact to take a breath. 

It’s more than encouraging to him, slightly emboldening Gyuutaro as his tongue swipes along your plush bottom lip before you grant him entry. Your muted moan swallowed by him as he shifts you into his lap for you both to be more comfortable. 

He figures it to be a safer bet than pressing you into the cushions and climbing on top of you. ‘Easier to hold back this way,’ Gyuutaro inwardly assures himself while staring directly at pure temptation with a lustful gaze. Chest heaving as you lean back just enough to adjust and sit comfortably in his lap before chasing his lips once more. 

Broad palms finding your natural waist as your thick thighs frame his narrow hips and you cradle his jaw as if he was your personal treasure. Nipping at and gently pulling his own kiss swollen lower lip before you tug the hair at the base of his skull for him to tilt his head. 

Eyes glinting with mirth paired with a mischievous little smile that he mirrors as he palms the nape of your neck, “feelin better?” 

“Maybe,” giggling as your thumb swipes at the corner of his lips, “not sure yet.” 

Dipping for another kiss as a chuckle vibrates his chest, reverberating against your own as your tongue swirls around his. Gasping in pleasant surprise when your clothed slit brushes over his throbbing cock, chasing the sensation by grinding down after he slouches lower in his seat. 

It feels good, you feel good, even through the layers of clothes like this; it still makes Gyuutaro groan. His hands slipping lower and palm the fat of your ass to pull you closer as he presses further into the plush couch. Whimpering in turn when you repeat the motion with more confidence, rolling your pelvis into his only for him to rut upwards somewhat awkwardly until he falls into a comfortable unspoken rhythm.  

Gyuutaro’s in trouble, mind racing with the desire to pull the thin, flimsy material of your shorts and panties to the side to glide his cockhead through your sticky folds. Gripping your hips with a bruising force that you seem to more than enjoy if how they jerk in his hold was any indication before tap your fingers on his wrist. It gives him pause, swallowing thickly thinking he’d done something wrong when you lift your ass and reach between your bodies to fumble with his button and zipper before he grabs both of your hands in one. 

‘Wait, fuck, don’t wanna—“ he can already see you start to deflate at perceived rejection whenever he grabs your chin gently. Carefully cradling your jaw when you try and shy away from him to force eye contact, “nah don’t do that, believe me pretty girl, I fuckin wanna, but not on the first date. You’ll think I’m easy.” 

He winks with a Cheshire grin that makes you giggle, relaxing against him as your thumb swipes affectionately over the marks he thinks are ghastly. 

“Movie was shit anyway,” shifting you to sit in his lap with your back against the arm of the couch and your head tucked into his throat, “I’ll head home a little later. Put something on ya like.”  

You nod but don’t detangle from him, only adjust enough to where your legs are kicked over one side to sit comfortably in his lap. Spending the next hour letting YouTube autoplay comfort videos with one another’s hands laced together in your lap and even still, when it’s time for him to head home, it feels too soon. Lingering in your doorway after he grasps at his discarded hoodie and helps you into it to see him off after demanding he text you he’s made it home safely with a petulant pout he wouldn’t dream of denying. 

And true to his word he sends a concise ‘home’ after you’ve tucked yourself away in a bed that now feels too big with just you in it’s confines. Breathing a sigh of relief as you reply with a heart and telling him goodnight before you shimmy lower into your thick comforter. 

On the cusp of slipping into a dreamless sleep when your screen wakes that does the same for you in turn when you groan to see what disturbed you. 

A text from Gyuutaro that read “how bad I wanted to, btw” after resorting to fucking his fist with your pilfered panties pressed to his nose. A picture attached of him that’s cut just above his toothy, satisfied grin to just below his toned abdomen where you can see sticky white stain pale skin.

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It’s safe to say the proverbial ice had finally been broken, the shift in your relationship with one another unspoken and the nature of it is still undefined but you’re both certain (at the very least) that you're on the same page. 

From the time he wakes up to the time you fall asleep you’re in constant contact with one another, texting between chores around your households or having extended phone calls during his shifts at work. Conversation feels impossibly easier than before, lighter, uninhibited and lacking any gnawing desire to fill any silences that fall between you often.

The week carries on doing simple activities, seizing any opportunity to see each other again any chance either of you get. Gyuutaro doesn’t collect nearly half as many of his usual hours because of it and he already knows his paycheck will suffer dearly for it but he can’t say it was any real loss. The lack of monetary gain is more than accommodated for with your loving laughter and welcoming warmth; tipped a gratuitous amount of unmitigated tenderness and unconditional care.

Paid in your panoply of both subtle and unsubtle displays of affection like sending him to work with a home cooked meal every day, for instance. Packed up nice and neatly in glass containers tucked away into a branded lunch box he’s never once seen you carry around. Always placed into his hands when he reluctantly kisses you goodbye for the night though it does hold an endearingly innocent ulterior motive on your part, hinted at with your ‘firm’ demand for the containers return the next day. Creating an excuse (besides the desire to keep his belly full consistently for the first time in his life) he doesn’t realize is just so he’ll have a built in reason to come over again, not that he ever needed one but it felt easier than outright asking him to come see you every day of the week.

Until the weekend before the end of your holiday arrives and Gyuutaro can see the telltale signs of trepidation that threatens to ruin one of the best weeks you’ve had in a long while. 

The shift in you has Gyuutaro the slightest bit clingier, more doting in his own unique ways and subconsciously caring for you in the way you like to be loved despite having never been told how. He asks if you need groceries just to volunteer to drive you there, adding to it by insisting, “n’ if yer a good passenger princess I’ll take ya on that bike ride you’ve been beggin me for, maybe we’ll get that too sweet coffee ya like too.”

Treating the chore like an exciting excursion, playing dirty by sweetening the deal plus that damning lopsided grin of his is infectious and it only splits wider when you pout bleeds into a tentative smirk. Agreeing to his terms but with an added stipulation, “passenger princess needs her gas pumped and control of the radio.”

He slouches with a quirked brow and faux scowl before hooking his index finger beneath your chin, tipping it upwards to seal his lips over yours in a fleeting press. Muttering a graveled ‘deal,’ acquiescing to ‘staunch’ demands as if the exchange didn’t go exactly in his desired direction, heart warming as you giggle gleefully in victory before gathering your things to leave.

You hated shopping alone but with Gyuutaro it wasn’t nearly as nerve wracking and hard to focus. Wandering down the emptier aisles at a leisurely pace with him at your side and comfortingly placing his hand at the small of your back to guide you through the more crowded ones. Your basket gets filled with far more items and ingredients than it ever has for either of you separately, discussing dinner options and planning meals for certain days so he’ll have leftovers for lunch. Neither of you comment over how domestic the entire process is for the nature of your still undefined relationship, just enjoy the feeling and ease of it all.

Though if you asked Gyuutaro, regardless of if you were around or not, he’d proudly and possessively proclaim that you were his and he was yours. 

He knows you better than most anyone else at this point too, bagging the groceries how you liked to have them sorted without even needing to be told. Gently kneeing your thigh when you try and carry a single bag out to your car and again when you try to do the same whenever you get back home.

“Don’t piss me off brat,” sniped with a notable lack of malice as he shifted his loaded down arms out of your reach, giving you his back as he crossed the threshold of the front door. 

“Or what?” You taunt daringly only to give him little trouble, though not for a lack of serious trying. Looping your arms around his tapered waist and dragging your feet to slow him down to no avail before resorting to swiping uselessly at the bags before they’re all placed onto your countertop. 

He only sucks his teeth at you in response for now, rolling his eyes when you snatch at a bag he reaches for to unpack and stick your tongue out at him for good measure. Repeating that process for each bag as it devolves into a harmless game, tricking one another with twitching hands and sudden jerks when reaching for what’s laid out on the countertop until there’s nothing left. The whole process of the menial task breezed through with your antics, simpering as you bump your refrigerator door closed with your hip. Turning to gather the discarded bags while Gyuutaro faces your pantry, humming as you flatten and fold the plastics before a startled yelp rips from your throat. 

Broad palms placed onto the countertop cage you in as Gyuutaro’s chest presses against your back, the surprise makes you shrink lower but he grabs at you when you squirm, “where’re ya goin?”

His voice still playful but a silky pitch lower than what you’ve heard before, almost purring in your ear as Gyuutaro cups at your jaw, pads of his index finger and thumb pressing into hollows of your cheeks when you whine. He chuckles at you, the sound vibrating against his ribcage as he nips at your ear to elicit more of the enticing sounds from you; breathing you in as he lets his hands rove over your body. 

Periodically pawing at the parts of you he knows are sensitive just to watch you try and drop to your knees to writhe from his hold fruitlessly until you giggle and gasp, “alright alright, let go of me taro.”

Just the response he was hoping for as he handles you with absolute ease, brushing his lips over the slope of your throat as his arms tighten around your natural waist. Hoisting you up just enough so your toes just barely graze the flooring as you flail in the short distance he walks from your kitchen to your living room. Stopping at the furniture placed in the center of the room before he corals you once again, growing bolder by pinning your hips to the frame on the back of your sofa. Lips to the shell of your ear as he shudders out a breathy exhale when you arch your back and the swell of your ass brushes against his crotch, “or what?”

He takes a sick delight in how your eyes widen but leaves no time to dwell on the notion before deft digits make quick work of your button and zipper. He works both of his hands into your pants, massaging at your hips and palming the sides of your thighs as he shimmies the dark denim lower until it pools at your knees. Taking the time to knead appreciatively at the exposed flesh as they crawl higher, cupping your mound and pressing the pads of his middle and ring fingers over your clit as Gyuutaro slouches around you. 

Your breath hitches at the contact but the lack of tension in your body tells him enough that it isn’t unwanted. Encouraging Gyuutaro further by turning your toes inward as he pulls the lacy material to the side to feel you uninhibited, eyes rolling when you twitch in anticipation but he won’t leave you wanting. Parting your folds to play in the quickly gathering slick and he can’t help but think about how much warmer you are than he thought you’d be; warmer than what he’s fantasized about since the end of the week previous. 

He moves almost reflexively, swirling his fingers around your pert bud in firm circles, growing in confidence when your head lolls forward and you brace your forearms on the back of the couch. Ass brushing against his crotch as you go slack in his hold, dipping lower as you spread your legs just a bit more for him, rewarding Gyuutaro with a throaty sigh as he tests out what makes you feel good. A learning experience for the both of you as the sound of slick clicking and shushed suspires mingle in the space between you. 

Working you up after a few testing pressures and motions, guiding you to your climax while his breath dampens the skin of your throat and the sound of him warms the blood in your veins. The coil in your lower belly tightening with intensity as your thoughts race, all of them about him and how he makes you feel, how you think he feels about you. Focusing on how he praises you, encourages you, the feel of his cock prodding at the curve of your ass and the more he coos at you the warmer you feel. 

Clutching at the cushions of the couch for dear life and finally, finally tipping over the edge when he nips at the lobe of your ear and husks, “cum for me baby, show me how good I make ya feel.” 

Shuddering in his hold and your voice breaks on the syllables of his name as you reach rapture, arching your back and he supports you with his free hand as he overstimulates you with the other. Cupping your throat while you moan his name so sinfully while his fingers swirl in lazy circles over your puffy clit, hips twitching and bucking uncontrollably into his hand until you have to grip desperately at his wrist for some reprieve. Heaving a heavy sigh of relief when he relents and occupies himself with littering the slope of your shoulder up to the hinge of your jaw in gentle nips and caste kisses. 

Slowing his affectionate assault, Gyuutaro takes a moment to bask in the afterglow of your orgasm, marveling slightly over the pleasure he provided for you. Drinks in how you slack in his hold, leaning into him because the tremble in your legs betray you. He didn’t think it possible for you to look any more beautiful but your blissed out, satisfied expression and the softness to your features that follows proves him wrong.

Letting the moment linger until you regain your bearing before he helps you straighten up by fixing your hair and step completely from your pants after voicing you’d wanted to change. Lovingly kissing your temple with a soft apology for getting carried away but not without a swift smack to your ass and a wink, repeating coyly, “told ya not to piss me off pretty girl.”

He starts dinner while you get comfortable before coming to help cook and you equally split cleanup duty afterwards. Gyuutaro all but corrals you into the living room as soon as he’s done with the dishes, drying his hands on the decorative towels before quickly grabbing at your waist before you had time to notice. 

Eager to get situated on the plush furniture and fluff one of your many throw blankets over you both. Cuddling on the couch soon after, again, with you in his lap and his chin resting on your crown as time ticks by watching all the updates to the shows you’ve taken to enjoying with one another until he checks the time and sucks his teeth.

“Gettin late,” he grumbles as he all but tosses his phone onto the couch cushion beside you, “should probably head home so I can drag my ass outta bed for work tomorrow.” 

You almost visibly deflate, relaxed features devolving with dejection as you reluctantly move from his lap for him to stand. You watch as he rises to full height and takes the time to stretch but you grab at his wrist reflexively before he can move to put on his shoes, releasing him when he turns to you with a quizzical look. Turning fully and squatting down to your eye level when you pull your feet up onto the couch and bring your knees to your chest while you fidget with your fingers the way you always do when you’re working up the nerve for something.

Glancing away quickly when he brings his palm to cup the side of your head, stroking along it soothingly before you groan dramatically. You surprise him with the sound, making his brow quirk and he leans back slightly when you drag your hands down your face before resting your forehead on your knees with another groan. Mumbling something that’s too quiet to be understood but too loud for you to be talking to yourself so he leans closer to you, comically cupping his ear with one eye open wider than the other. 

“Hah?” Scoffed slightly and though he can’t see it you roll your eyes, “that a mouse I hear squeakin at me?”

“I said,” you shoot up with a scowl on pretty features, “why don’t you just stay the night instead.” Rushed out in one breath, like you’d lose the nerve if you’d attempted to deliver the sentence in any other way. 

Your shoulders slack again, tilting your head to lean your cheek on your knee as you fix him with this unintentionally hopeful look, “If you wanted to anyway, you don’t gotta of course. It’s just that it is kinda’ late and I can just bring you to work tomorrow but, you absolutely don’t have to. It's just that you live across town—“ you stumble through your sentence for him to, thankfully, cut off your rambling. 

“Ya had me at ‘I said’ pretty thing, why the hell wouldn’t I wanna stay?” Gyuutaro teases as he leans forward on his haunches, pressing a kiss to your forehead before he flops back onto your sofa, pressing his back into the arm of it. He reaches for you, hand encircling your wrist with ease as he pulls you between his legs and into his arms, “plus ‘m not gonna say no to a night away from my roommate and his girl bein’ loud as shit.” 

“You could’ve just said yes,” you scoff as you reach for his phone and the remote previously tossed to the wayside, handing both to him after you’ve woken the screen to check the time, “one more episode? Then we should head to bed.”

You’re telling rather than asking him, batting long lashes up at him as your chin rests on his sternum as if Gyuutaro could ever really deny you anything you desired but that doesn’t mean he won’t put on his own theatrics. Pulling a giddy little giggle from you when his head lolls back and he heaves an exaggerated sigh but powers on the tv anyway.

But ‘one more episode’ turns to two then four because ‘they can’t just leave it on a cliffhanger like that!’ Until Gyuutaro inevitably has to be firm when he tells you at nearly midnight that, “ much as I’d love to pull an all-nighter with ya, I do have the early mornin shift baby.”

Halfheartedly you pour at him, certain he won’t relent this time but you’re beginning to grow accustomed to asking just the slightest but more of him. He’d say he’s rubbing off on you, secretly he’s happy to notice it even as his thumb and index grab at your plush lower lip as he tuts. The sound of your petulant whine is music to his ears as he cackles before tapping suspiciously closely to your ass. 

“Fine, fine, I guess you win this time,” you groan playfully as you detangle yourself from. Standing and stretching as you hold out your hand to guide him to the bathroom as if he hadn’t spent every day of the week in your home. 

Gyuutaro’s brow quirks high and a ghost of a smile tugs at the corners of his lips when you push into your bathroom with him in tow. Blood ready to thrum in his veins simultaneously with elated and nervous energy as you yank open the shower curtains.  

Though he deflates quickly with a burning heat stinging the nape of his neck that forces him to grip it to abate the burn when he realizes you’re just preparing the shower for him. He clears his throat as you slip past him in the small space with a cute, “oh one sec,” as you all but scurry into your room. 

The lanky man tails you like the stray he calls Hakuji’s girlfriend and the one he always has been. Standing and yawning as he slouches in your doorway, debating minutely if he should just crawl beneath your cozy looking comforter and force you into his arms with the excuse that he could just shower in the morning. Swaying forward with intent when he’s pulled from his reverie by the sound of your searching. He leans like he’s going to help you in rifling through your drawers before gasping in satisfaction. 

You produce clothes from your dresser that he doesn't remember seeing whenever he snooped through their contents last week, heart skipping a beat and his fists clenching, hidden away by his pockets before you explain without prompt.

“They’re my brothers,” you add quickly, like you couldn’t bear the misunderstanding, “he’s nowhere near as tall as you, though. They’ll probably look like capris but I doubt you’ll want to sleep in jeans. Turning the nozzle up on the shower makes it hotter, down is colder and in is off kay?”

He showers quickly, he has to, as much as he’d like to stand under the spray and let the warm water soothe tight muscles he’s ready to lay down with you in bed. The thought is lame to him, but it’s been on his mind since he’d come over the first night; since he stood in your room and familiarized himself with it just in case he didn’t get the chance to. Groaning to himself as he slouches forward and the water streams from his wet mop of unruly locks and into his face, off his nose and blurring his eyes before he snarls. 

It was too good of a day to let his self-deprecating tendencies ruin it, finishing up what should’ve been a relaxing experience by using a modest amount of your body wash, shampoo, and conditioner. Thinking idly as he steps into just the pair of joggers alone that you liked the same sort of scents his sister liked to use, maybe just a bit sweeter where her preferences are more floral. 

He’ll have to introduce you soon, if you were up for that anyway. It was a miracle he hadn’t mentioned you to her yet with how much time he was spending with you; cautious in case this (like everything else in his life) blew up in his face when whatever deity harbored a grudge against him in particular decided they needed some entertainment.

Gyuutaro finally emerges from the bathroom as he tugs the spacious hoodie on over his head and discards his worn clothes into the hamper with your own. Brow quirking in confusion when he sees the bed still made, no you sized lump beneath the thick comforter. 

“Babe?” Called as he spins on his heel but you scurry hastily from the hall. Tucking your hair behind your ear as you step into the room and close the door behind you.

“Sorry, sorry,” huffed as you cross the room hurriedly as tug your covers back, “thought I heard something. Then I saw I forgot to turn off the oven and then I was making sure the front and the back doors were locked.”

Gyuutaro should be more than alarmed at the mention of forgetting to turn off the oven. Should question if you do that often and if he’s going to need to remind you or check himself before he can rest. 

He should be, he likely will the following day but for now he’s far too captivated by you. Adam’s Apple bobbing as he swallows thickly when sky blues rove over your body. Drinking in how you don nothing but one of the hoodies he’d left here with only panties underneath. Overtly ogling you, letting his eyes linger on your pillowy thighs before they’re hidden from view when you crawl beneath the covers. 

“Gonna sleep standin up taro?” Cooed cutely as you tap the empty space next to you, “pretty sure this is more comfortable though.” 

You’re so cute to him, every positive descriptor he could use for a person comes to mind when he looks at you. Alluring without trying to be, or maybe you were with the way you pose yourself even beneath the thick comforter. Adorable with the way you smile at him, however impish the expression may be at times. You make Gyuutaro’s mind race but externally he looks calm as he crosses the room to join you even as he retorts, “maybe not with yer popsicle feet.” 

Proving him right instantly as you cling to the warmth of his body, blade of your foot working up his joggers up just enough for your skin to touch his and earn a hiss. A curse from his lips hangs in the air but he resents none of what transpires as you squeal and giggle while Gyuutaro wrestles to return the favor. Gripping at his hoodie to let his cold hands rest at your waist before you offer a truth he’d rather label a concession. 

Finally settling down with your back to him, scooting back into him until you’re contoured to the curve of his body. Finding an acceptable position to cuddle and be cuddled when his leg settles between yours with Gyuutaro’s arm thrown around your torso to keep you close. 

Not that you’d dream of moving away, shimmying lower with an excited energy moments after you’ve both quietly settled together. And you were tired, honestly you were, whenever you’d initially got ready for bed. 

Until Gyuutaro came out of the shower and you fully registered he’d be staying the night. 

You’d cuddled plenty before, all during the week you’ve crawled in his lap or curled comfortably on his chest. You weren’t particularly that shy about anything with him either, not entirely anyway; more bold than you’d certainly ever been with all the times you’ve straddled him and held his face in your hands to kiss him as much as you pleased. 

Going to sleep together was comparatively one of the more innocent, albeit just as intimate, moments with Gyuutaro. 

Heaving a heavy exhale as you scoot ever closer into him, curling into yourself and writhing slightly as you adjust the position of your bodies. Wrapping your arm around Gyuutaro’s as it coils tighter around you, satisfied with the slight change before the sound of his voice sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. 

“Too much energy,” husked almost groggily from the gravel in his tone against the shell of your ear. 

You shift slightly, kissing his knobby knuckles in silent apology as you twist your body once again, “m tryin to get comfy, just a little restless.” 

“Ya sure it’s just that? Don’t really look like yer tryin to go to sleep baby,” voice a low tease as his other arm snakes between the mattress and your waist. Rough pads of fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your stomach as he slides lower, slipping beneath your panties to cup your mound with a sigh and, “need some help?”

You cast a glance in mock innocence over your shoulder at him, a pleading gleam in your eye as you slowly nod your head. 

Not that he was entirely waiting on a definitive answer, having received an explicit enough response when you’d spread your legs wider for him, but; he still had no intention to deny you as he slowly rolls his fingers over your clit until your hips. Testingly at first, varying pressure and motions while he watches what you respond best to until your hips are bucking into his hand and you sigh out his name so sweetly, breathily. 

He builds you slowly at first, basking in the way you respond to him but just when you’re on the cusp of euphoria he pulls his hand away, halting your high so abruptly you voice your frustrations just as Gyuutaro turns you onto your back. 

“Don’t whine,” as he lays you on your back, fingers looped into the band of your panties on either side of your hips before tugging them lower to slip them off your supple thighs to position himself between them. Wasting no time in burying his face in your cunt like a man starved.

You don’t get time to protest, gasping with a roll of your eyes as you arch from the mattress with his first languid stripe up your soaking slit. Gyuutaro lets out a low, rumbling groan at the taste of you that sends pleasant vibrations and shocks of pleasure shooting up your spine. Lost in you as he laps lazily as your lips, harding whetting his appetite like this before his fingers join the fray, calloused pads playing in the gathering slick before adding just a modicum of pressure to spread your sticky folds as he ducks his head lower. Lids fluttering and he relishes in how your hips twitch just before the tense with each lazy lap until his lips purse around the pert little pearl at the apex of your pussy for a kiss. 

Sweetly, affectionaly before sensually suckling at it in an adoring assault, alternating between rapid lateral flicks of his wet muscle and circling around it until your fingers thread through wavy locks.

Arching slightly from the mattress as your hips twitch minutely into his face, earning a rumbling chuckle from Gyuutaro and another kiss to your puffy clit. Softly sighing his name, broken by a muted moan and choked by a gasp when he resumes the motions he’d found you’d liked the most. 

Humming your approval to him as your thighs tremble around his skull and your nails gently rake along his scalp as he works you over generously. Fueled by every sound and reaction you reward him with, never liking the sound of his name more than how you gasp it as thick digits sink into your greedy cunt gradually.  

Gyuutaro’s middle finger first as he tests the motions and finds a rhythm. His ring finger follows second and it has you spasming without control, biting your lip to stifle the first debauched moan. Surely stoking his ego as you helpless rut into his face with babbled, witless whines of his name as you gripped the sheets beneath you like a lifeline. 

He enjoys watching what he does to you, delights in how helpless you are to the pleasure he provides as the taste of you turns saccharine on his tongue when the coil finally snaps. Exhaling a breathy, “fuuuck, oh ‘taro ‘m cumming,” as the tension bleeds from your body and the roll of your hips falls out of sync with him. 

Left reeling after he’s pulled his fingers from your convulsing cunt and climbing up your body, given no time to consider lamenting the loss as Gyuutaro cups your face for an impassioned kiss. Long tongue swiping over yours as he coos praises at you throatily between dizzying kisses but you’re too focused on the rigid length that pokes into the fat of your inner thigh. Leaky tip steadily staining his borrowed sleep pants as it soaks through his underwear, throbbing and left neglected while he enthusiastically tended to your own pleasure. 

Humming as your fingers thread into his unruly locks and your leg hooks on his hip before moving in one swift motion, flipping your positions to straddle him instead. Arching into Gyuutaro and giggling at the muted sound of surprise that you swallow in chasing kisses, resting your weight on the tops of your thighs. Hovering slightly as your hands splay out over his chest, body alight and still thrumming with the aftershocks of euphoria as you arch into him, hands sliding from his pectorals to his trapezius. 

Your thumbs swipe along the columns of his throat as your lips seal over his with a hum before reaching higher to thread into his hair. Blunt nails scratching soothingly at the curve of his skull as his arms wrap around you to pull you closer. 

His lips seal over yours with a sigh as his hands roam your body, groping intermittently with appreciative groans that grow in volume. 

“Fuck, I want you,” husked against your skin as his head dips to litter your throat with open mouthed kisses. Jagged teeth nipping pleasantly at sensitive flesh as you tilt your head to the side to grant him more access. Whining encouraging when Gyuutaro’s teeth testingly sink into the slope of your throat, moaning unabashedly when he adds more pressure. Not enough to break skin but enough to mark you as his, lovingly marr the unblemished space with the structure of his jaw. 

Every reaction to him fuels him, goads him further and fans the flames of desire even more so as you soak through the lacy garment you wear and his borrowed joggers. Finally reaching between your bodies to grip at the elastic band and pull it down just below his sac to run his leaking tip between your folds. 

“Wait, wait, ‘taro” muttered between hungry kisses, gently pressing your fingers into the planes of his chest, “do you have a condom?” 

There’s a glaze over Gyuutaro’s eyes, lidded gaze “never had a reason to carry one pretty girl,” nosing at your pulse point, lips brushing over the thrumming artery affectionately as he kneads at the juntures of your thighs, “do you?” 

“Um.. no? Was I supposed to?” 

“Nah, m’ glad ya don’t, jealous guy after all” winking as he squeezes at the fat of your ass again and gives you a fleeting kiss, “but if I sink you on my cock I ain’t gonna wanna pull out.” 

It is a little early on for him to even consider breeding you even though, in his shriveled little heart you’ve made room in, he’s certain you’re the one; he doesn’t want to risk scaring you off. Missing how your lips part in a soundless sigh at his comment, if he hadn’t you likely would’ve been pinned to the mattress with the entire length bullied into you in one stroke to feel that delicious burn of the sudden stretch.

Instead you give him a parting kiss that leaves him momentarily confused, subtly shimmying as you litter a trail chaste but loving brushes of your lips over every part of him that you adore. 

First to the corners of his lips that curl up with his devious grins, impish smirks and gentle smiles. Then to the inky black birthmark that decorates both edges of his mouth, dipping lower to his adams apple that always bobs distractingly and sometimes holds your gaze in the times there’s a lull in conversation.  

Your hands glide down his body to dip beneath the material of his hoodie as you straddle his knees. Hem of his borrowed hoodie pooling at your wrists as the pads of your fingers press into the toned flesh of his abdomen, firmer as your push upwards when Gyuutaro stops you. Broad palm and long digits resting on both of your hands to halt your ascent, jarring you slightly, ready to recoil in embarrassment thinking you’d misunderstood and were too forward when his free hand grasps at your chin to keep you in place.

“It’s not that baby, god it ain’t that,” he whispers, moving some loose hairs away from your face and running his thumb over your cheek, “just.. You don’t have to, ‘m not.” His voice softens and the sentence trails as his confidence wanes drastically with no intention to finish it, unsure of how he wanted to explain to you.

If he wanted to explain at all; especially something he thought he’d resolved and absolved himself of at a young age from cruel lessons hard learned. 

You cup his face as lovingly, as you always do, comforting him with touch alone in ways even he didn’t know he needed and Gyuutaro is ever grateful for it as he leans into your palm with fluttering lashes. He’s certain of one thing as you blindly offer him consolation, he’s that same sniveling coward he was as a child. 

He fears rejection but only from you, that it’ll take seeing him laid bare before you for you to finally feel the repulsion someone like you should’ve always felt towards a man like him. 

You’ve proved yourself gentle with his jagged edges though, a sanctuary for him to find solace, time and time again. 

“I want to, please?” your voice is barely a whisper, hand resting gently over his clothed cock, your index finger tracing the outline of his heady length. 

Gyuutaro swallows thickly, the hushed plea and how you palm him making him throb with a need that overshadows his cowardice. He concedes to you once again as he nods, untrusting of his voice to not embarrass or fail him should he try to respond. You flash him a dazzling smile, the same one that had him fisting himself in the shower or in his bed with a pair of your underwear balled to his nose the nights following his days filled with you. 

Would you laugh if he told you that all the simple things you did made him ache for you down to his bones? Probably not, because you’re kind like that, because you’re here with him right now, eager to please. 

His blood roars in his ears and rushes in his veins over the way your fingers dance along his abdomen, pushing up his oversized hoodie to expose the years of his neglect the months of your care could only dream of reversing. 

You can see some of his ribs but they’re far less pronounced than before he’d met you, though much less drastically and the crests of his hips still protrude a little too sharply for either of your liking. 

And even though you’ve never judged him once in the time he’s known you, Gyuutaro still can’t help but hold his breath when the fabric is completely tugged over his head and you run your hands back down his body with such caring adoration. 

You lean forward to kiss him then, a reassuring peck to his lips where your taste still lingers, another to his jaw, mapping a trail down his body to finally press another just below his navel as you untie the drawstring of his bottoms. You can feel his abdomen tense beneath plush lips when you hook your fingers into the material, urging you to press another kiss directly above the elastic band. 

“Lift your hips,” your voice is sweet, gently commanding as he complies with little delay and shimmies from the cotton blend. Your fingers tap up his lithe but densely corded muscled thighs, sliding over his rigid cock that tents the fabric of his underwear before you let soft hand linger over the straining material. His jaw clenches tightly, molars gnawing at the inside of his cheek while you rub your palm over the bulge, kneading coyly and swiping your thumb over the darkened fabric dampened by his leaky tip. 

Finally tugging his boxers down after a few agonizing minutes with a mischievously cute giggle but only just enough to free it of its confines and no lower. His engorged tip taps against his pelvis with a soft pap, saliva pooling on your tongue at just the sight of it, flushed and leaky. 

You ogle him for a long moment and his lips part after his tongue nervously darts out to wet the flesh when your fingers wrap around the base of him. Your palm feels cool compared to the heated skin throbbing beneath it, it makes him hiss reflexively and you flinch slightly but thankfully your confidence doesn’t wane. 

Moderately emboldened as you place your thumb and index fingers on his mons so the underside of his shaft rests in the web of your palm. Keeping his hard cock directly upright as you adjust closer to him, lying on your stomach between his legs. 

His heart could almost skip a beat at the sight of you, how focused you look, he can’t tear his gaze away from how you stare at him. As if Gyuutaro and the pleasure you’ll provide him is the only thing that’s going through that meticulous little mind of yours that he’s come to adore.

Leaning closer as you purse your lips around the mushroomed tip with unwavering eye contact just to tease Gyuutaro as he had earlier. Humming coyly as you pull back with a mischievous quirk to your lips as you take a moment more to appreciate the view. 

Memorizing the was his fingers fist the sheets and his pretty face dusts with a hint of red while his cock twitches in your hold. 

It’s long, just like you thought it would be, thick too with a slight curve and a prominent vein in the underside. The muscles of his abdomen tighten when you test different pressures until you think you’ve found one he appreciates, thumb tracing over the slit of his mushroomed tip to spread the pre that leaks from the tip next.

He lets out a hiss, chest rising and falling a little faster when you give him experimental kitten licks to the head down the underside of his shaft. Tip of your tongue tracing over the vein all the way down only to let the flat of the wet muscle caress his girth as you drag upwards again. 

Ending your teasing as you wrap your lips around the head of his cock, taking him in slowly, sensually.  Stretching your lips around it to form a tight ‘o’ before suckling gingerly in a way that earns you a beautiful sigh that has your lashes fluttering open to drink in just what you do to him. 

Only to meet the gaze eyes of clear blue skies now darkened into a stormy cobalt before his hips jerk upwards slightly into your pursed lips with a curse, “fuck baby don’t do that, I could cum just lookin at ya like this.”

You take more of him, hum giddily when he huffs a light “fuck”, threading his fingers into your hair to push the lose strands that fall into your face. It’s tender, the way he tucks some behind your ear and gently holds the back of your head as you bob on his length.

“You’re so pretty,” Gyuutaro whispers, hips thrusting slowly, albeit jerkily, into your mouth. Emitting an involuntary rumbling groan when you hollow your cheeks, taking him in to the base of his cock in tandem with his thrusts. 

You make him more vocal than you’d imagined he’d be, clenching your thighs to abate the throb to your clit from the sound of him. 

Gyuutaro can’t help the noises that escape him before long, jaw falling slack as his head lolls back onto your headboard while he rewards you with his pleasure. He apologizes each time you gag on him, each time he thrusts to the back of your throat that makes your eyes water but you can’t say you hate it, far from. You thoroughly enjoy the way he chases his climax helplessly, using you for his pleasure while still being so loving. 

His hands scratch lightly at your scalp, winding your hair carefully around his fingers, “Yer perfect, shit, yer amazin’— d-don’t stop baby please.” 

You bring your hand down from where you caress his hips, fondling his sac to aid him toward his climax. Humming as you watch his jaw set tightly and Gyuutaro can no longer manage the rut of his hips, fucking up into your face with abandon when the coil finally snap. He lets out a long, relieved moan whenever he finally cums down your throat with a stuttered curse and throaty growl as your only warning. 

He rides his high, fucking your slowly until he’s calmed down and you pull away with an audible pop. Swiping away the drool that dribbled down your chin, smiling to yourself as you appreciate the state you’ve left him in. 

Gyuutaro’s managed to regulate his bresthing when you crawl up his body, tucking into his side with a leg kicked over his own. He presses his lips to your temple after he runs his thumb over the corner of your lips to wipe away the bit of saliva you’d missed. You nuzzle into him, arms wrapping tightly around his torso, warmth radiating between you both, “feelin’ good?” 

“Yeah, feeling great. I think I’m gonna call out today,” he says after a long minute, lacing his fingers with yours over his chest, “it’ll be fine for one day.”

You hum tiredly in response, lifting your head slightly to rest your chin on his chest as a single digit twirls a lock of your hair mindlessly. Simply basking in the afterglow of everything and not just what Gyuutaro has done with you tonight.

He pulls your face to his in a tender kiss, one where you can’t help but smile at the affection, rolling your lip between your teeth when he cups the curve of your skull. 

 “Would ya wanna have lunch with me later? Want ya to meet my sister.”

[deanwritings]

The Guest House - Chapter 11

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Series Summary: Dean Winchester is going through a nasty divorce. He doesn't have much left to his name, but what he does have is his house. Leave it to his soon-to-be ex wife to find a way to even ruin that for him. Enter Y/N, who is looking to get away from life for a bit, and stumbles right into the middle of it all.

The Guest House Master List

Word Count: 3,508

A/N: Here comes the burn 🔥

Dean’s awoken by the sound of laughter. He quickly sits up, his knuckles rubbing deep into his eyes as night rolls in through the back windows. 

He hadn’t realized he had fallen asleep, didn’t even intend to, but the clock above the back console table reads an hour and fourteen minutes since he last chatted with Mary. 

With a groan, he pushes himself off the sunken-in couch cushions, rolling out the kink in his neck that formed while he was napping.

He’s still rubbing his eyes as he steps into the kitchen, the lights bright and the aroma of fresh rosemary, sauteed onions and sizzling garlic immediately assaulting him, inviting him to take in a deep breath. 

“Well look who woke up.” Mary’s eyes are bright as she teases him from the kitchen island. Y/N is behind her, standing at the sink, Mary’s apron partially obscuring your sweater and pants. You look fresh faced, with some still-damp tendrils of hair framing your face. 

Dean then notices the two wine glasses on the island, and a bottle next to it already half drained. Michael Bublé sings quietly from the smart speaker in the corner.

Dean saddles up on one of the island bar stools. 

“Looks like I’m missing a party.” He offers the women a lazy grin as he slowly begins to perk up at the thought of dinner and the two happy companions in front of him. 

This kitchen was no stranger to joviality; Mary was always beloved by her husband and sons for her home cooking. Though she spent her days at the local hospital, serving twenty-three years as an ICU nurse, Mary always made sure to have a fresh-made meal for her family once her shift was over. There was nothing she loved more than having her boys around the dining room table, hearing about Dean’s basketball practices and Sam’s debate team, while John would grumble about his annoying coworkers. Mary’s family meant the world to her. Marrying John and having Dean and Sam were the best things she ever did with her life, and so much of that life revolved around food when you have two sons over six-feet tall and a father close behind. 

Even after John passed, Mary continued to cook. Even after her sons had returned back to their own lives after the funeral. Just being in the kitchen reminded her of all those amazing years together, when John would kiss her on the cheek as she prepared the meal. How, if music was playing, he would steal her away from the stove for a dance when their boys weren’t around to gag at them before she would fight her way out of his arms to make sure the food wouldn’t burn.

The kitchen brought Mary happiness, and it was obvious to everyone who sat in the kitchen with her. 

“Just some meal prep.” Mary brushes him off as she turns towards the stove and gives a pan a stir. 

Dean takes in another deep breath as the pan crackles.

“What’s for dinner?”

After a deliciously filling pan-roasted chicken and potatoes, plus another two glasses of wine, you and Dean are sitting on the back patio, a fire crackling in the pit between the two of you as you relax back in Adirondacks overlooking the pitch black lake. You’re bundled in your winter coat and hat, while Dean is somehow relaxing in nothing more than his jeans and sweater. Another glass of wine rests in your hands, warming you in ways the fire can’t while Dean opted for a bourbon on the rocks after the red wine he had with dinner. 

Mary had excused herself after you and Dean had cleaned up after dinner. It wasn’t late, but Mary was excited about a book she recently started, and decided to say goodnight and head to her room. 

“This has to be amazing in the summertime,” you muse as you look towards the quiet water, lights from houses around the shore reflecting on the thin coat of ice that sits atop of the lake. Soft edison bulbs are strung above the patio, providing a soft glow to your surroundings, and you would love to see this in the summer, when the nights are warm and the breeze doesn’t chill you to your bones.

You take a sip of wine. 

“It’s pretty nice. I keep telling mom she should get a boat, but she doesn’t want to be bothered with the maintenance of it.” He takes a sip from his own drink. “Nor would she actually know what to do with a boat, so it’s probably for the best.” He chuckles to himself and you smile at the sound.

A silence falls between the two of you, and you wish you had a speaker with some music playing just to break up the quiet. 

You decide to let your mind wander, playing back this afternoon, when you padded back downstairs after your shower in some comfy leggings and knit sweater to find Dean asleep on the couch, still sitting up but his head knocked back and mouth open with soft snores filling the living room. You had smiled at the sight, though you didn’t know why, before you had quietly looked for Mary. It wasn’t until you noticed her car gone from the driveway that you realized she wasn’t home. Not wanting to risk turning on the TV and waking Dean, you wandered around the house, taking in all the lake-themed decorations as well as the many pictures scattered throughout the house. A lot of them were from years ago, with a younger-looking Mary – who has aged like a fine wine – and who you assume to be her husband and Dean’s father, John. Two little boys were the subjects of most of the pictures, one with shaggy blonde hair during what seemed like elementary school years, and a lanky, dark-haired, hazel-eyed boy, who must be Sam. The pictures followed them throughout the years; Dean in a basketball jersey, Sam on skis, the brothers looking to be about high school age in tuxes and boutonnieres. It broke your heart as you noticed some pictures from not too long ago, a notable figure missing from the family portraits and the smiles of the remaining three Winchesters not as bright as they used to be. 

You take in a deep breath and look through the fire, shadows flickering across Dean’s face as his eyes stare out across the water. 

You think back to one particular picture that caught your eye, and it brought back a question you’ve been biting back on for a long time.

It’s none of your business. Sort of. You were metaphorically in the middle of their drama, but it didn’t necessarily mean you were entitled to the details. 

It didn’t mean you weren’t any less curious though. 

“If you don’t mind me asking. And you don’t have to answer.” Dean’s eyes dance to you. “But what happened between you and Lisa?” You recall a picture of an adult Dean in a tuxedo standing alongside Mary in a flowing, navy gown, a white rose worn proudly on her wrist, matching the one on Dean’s lapel, resting on the mantle. Clearly from a wedding day – Dean’s you assume. 

“Aren’t you just full of questions today?” He chuckles as he takes a sip from his tumblr, the ice knocking against the glass as he brings it to his lips. You watch as his Adam’s Apple bobs on his heavy swallow, and you feel your face flush with embarrassment. 

You were right the first time. It was none of your business. 

“Nevermind, I shouldn’t have asked.” You whoosh out, trying to fix your mistake before it can threaten to ruin the night.

“No,” Dean rests his now empty glass on the wide armrest and leans forward. “It’s okay. Especially since Lisa kinda roped you into our mess.” He scratches as the light layer of scruff over his jaw as his eyes look through the empty night. His shoulders rise as he takes a deep breath before he begins. 

“We had a good marriage for years, great even. We were young when we got married. Only twenty-four, but we had started dating when we were nineteen, and she was there for me when my dad died, so it just made sense. Which isn’t why I proposed. I really did love her. And back then she loved me too.” Dean’s eyes flick to the fire and hold its gaze. “The downfall started when she couldn’t get pregnant. All she wanted was a big family, we tried for years, then finally found out that she had some condition – I don’t even remember at this point – that made it hard for her to get pregnant. At first, she got depressed. She never wanted to leave the house, just spent her days either on the couch or in bed. At some point, the depression passed, and then the anger appeared. I tried to be understanding and be there for her as much as I could, but the anger never really went away. We started fighting. A lot. Which we had never really done before, and didn’t really know how to navigate. She got resentful, I got annoyed. We just started growing apart.” Dean takes in a deep breath, his lips setting in a hard line. 

“I started working more, just to get away from her and the fighting, then she wanted to get away from me. At some point she found someone, and then I eventually found them. In the guest house, ironically enough.” Dean relaxes back into his chair, though his body is rigid. “That was two years ago now. And we’re still not divorced.” He huffs and picks up the glass, swirling around the ice. 

Your eyes haven’t left him. He remains quiet, his story clearly done, and you have no idea what to say.

“I’m sorry you went through all of that.” You settle on. Because truly, what the hell do you say?

He just shrugs. You’re probably not the first to offer your condolences on the death of his marriage.

“You know what really sucks?” He continues without your prompting. You don’t answer, and let him continue. “We could have been divorced ages ago. We just can’t seem to quit this fighting.” He shakes his head as he deeply inhales. 

“Almost sounds like you two like the fight.” For the first time since he’s started talking, his eyes flick to you. You offer with a gentle smile as you take a bigger sip of wine this time. 

He sighs heavily. 

“It’s exhausting.” He quietly admits. 

“Then why keep going?”

He shakes his head and looks away, his shoulders dropping. 

A moment passes. Then another. Nothing but the crackling of the burning logs filling the dark silence. After another minute, the answer pops into your mind.

“You want to get back together?” You ask softly, and your stomach knots at your words. You expect him to ignore your answer, but he shocks you when he barks out a laugh, his body shaking with the sound before he puts his glass back down on the arm of the chair.

Your body slumps.

What the hell?

“Jesus, no.” He all but wheezes, shaking his head. “There’s no getting back together after what we’ve been through.” His voice drops as the laughter leaves his tone. 

You just stare at him, completely and utterly lost, until he looks back at you.

“We’re being assholes, is what it comes down to,” he admits as he drops his gaze. “She wants the house because I have it, and I don’t want to give it to her just because she wants it. And neither of us wants to be the one to surrender.” He clears his throat as he keeps his eyes downcast. 

“So you’re just spiting each other?” He looks up at your words, and even across the patio you can see the shame in them. 

“Never said I was perfect,” he forces a smirk, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Now I would never accuse you of being that.” You drop your voice as the corners of your own lips quirk up. His eyes crinkle at your words as his grin suddenly matches yours. 

And what a gorgeous smile it is. You think as your cheeks warm and suddenly your core clenches. You take in a sharp breath at the response, and you clear your throat and take a long sip of your wine to try and drown out the feeling. 

As you place your wine glass back down, you catch Dean’s gaze through the flame, his chiseled jawline sharp, even covered in a layer of managed scruff, and the fire reflecting in his eyes.

You take a deep breath and try to lean back from his gaze, but you're already against the backrest. 

Your movement seems to break his stare, and he relaxes back as well.

“How about you?” His voice is casual, but the air around you has changed, an electricity crackling through the cool night in time with the fire. 

“What about me?” You pick up your glass for another sip.

“Ever been married?” Now it’s your turn to bark out a laugh. 

“Kinda hard to keep a relationship when you’re married to your job. A job that didn’t even give a shit about you.” You sigh and look out to the lake as you think aloud. “But maybe that was always an excuse.”

“An excuse?” 

You keep your eyes on the icy water. If Dean can be honest, so can you.

“I haven’t had a serious relationship since college. On paper, we were perfect for each other, but we broke up a couple years after we graduated, and.” Your voice catches on your words and you swallow. “We had a nice relationship, but I never really loved him. Not the way you should. We were more friends than anything and we just fizzled out.” You think back to Justin. You had met at trivia night your junior year, and he was everything you thought you wanted; handsome, driven, had a sense of humor, a good family and group of friends, but somehow it wasn’t enough. “After that, the idea of dating just turned me off. If my dream guy wasn’t enough, how would anyone be? So I just started focusing more on work, and I got my first big promotion after the breakup. And then whenever anyone would ask me about dating, I could use work as an excuse.” You shrug. “I’ve dated here and there since then, but never really found anyone worth taking my attention away from my job.”

“Sounds lonely.” You throw your head back and laugh. You look over to him, his elbows now resting on his knees as he leans towards you from across the patio. 

“So does divorce.” He snorts out a laugh and looks down.

“Fair enough.” He starts to lean back but stops himself and looks over to his empty glass with raised eyebrows. 

“If we’re going to keep talking about relationships, I’m gonna need a refill.” He stands from his seat and takes his tumbler with him.

“Me too.” You hold your own empty glass up and wiggle it in the air. More wine sounded like a great idea. 

With an easy stride, Dean strolls around the firepit and over to your chair. The man is tall when you’re standing next to him, but right now he’s damn now towering over you while you’re seated. Despite the heavy conversation, he looks down at you with an easy smile. And maybe it’s the wine, or it’s just him, but you smile back as your heart thrums wildly in your chest. 

He reaches out for your hand slowly, his fingers brushing against yours as they take a secure hold on the stem. His touch is warm against your chilled skin, and his gaze holds yours and you swallow. His chest moves in a controlled rhythm as his fingers wrap around yours. Your lips part, but nothing comes out as you stare up at him, his eyes evergreen in the shadowed glow. He swallows, his Adam’s Apple bobbing with the movement.

“I–”

A log shatters apart and drops heavily into the bottom of the firepit, and you jump as the logs that had been resting on top of it tumble down, sending sparks wildly bursting and flying into the night sky.

“Holy shit,” you breath out, your eyes darting to the flames just as they begin to die down, as you rest your hands against your chest, just now realizing you had let go of the glass. 

Dean lets out a quiet laugh and takes a step back from you and the movement causes you to look back up at him, your wine glass securely in his hand. 

“More wine it is then.”

You managed to stay out through another glass of wine, until the fire dwindled down to embers, and Dean finished another two drinks. Once the flames had died down, the chill of the night couldn’t be held off, and it was late enough for you to both call it a night. 

You quietly sneak your way through the kitchen, a tipsy giddiness keeping a near constant giggle in your throat as you and Dean bump your way around the darkened room, tossing your jacket and hat on the kitchen table, and doing your best to keep quiet as you place your glasses into the sink before heading up the stairs, keeping a tight grip on the railing as you go. Dean is a half step behind you, so close, the few times you sway on the unfamiliar steps, you brush against his warm frame, even though he sat out in nothing but a crewneck sweatshirt all night. 

As you reach the top of the stairs, you expect Dean to break off, to head down to his room, but as you lazily wander towards your own door, you look over your shoulder to find him a hands-length behind you. You flex your fingers, wanting to reach back and take his hand in yours, but you keep your hand tucked in tight at your side. 

“I know this is my first night here,” you whisper roughly. “But I’m pretty sure your room is that way.” You throw a thumb over your shoulder and he quietly laughs as he leans forward, his chest brushing against your shoulder.

“What type of gentleman would I be if I didn’t walk you to your door?” His breath tickles your ear and your shoulders tense at the proximity as your feet halt. The sudden stop catches Dean off guard and he stumbles into you, one arm catching you around your waist as the other grabs at your hip. His arms tighten, pulling you against his chest. And hips.

And groin. 

You swallow.

You can feel Dean’s heartbeat at your back, erratic and wild as yours as you close your eyes and lean into him without a second thought. His hand tightens around your waist, his fingers deliciously digging in as you sway your head against his shoulder.

You close your eyes as you hear him take a deep breath. 

Without warning, his lips ghost against your exposed neck, a sliver of warmth playing across your skin and you shiver at the contact. 

Finally. Is the only thing that crosses your mind as you push yourself further into him. A growl stirs in his throat, vibrating his chest as you rest against him, and you swallow. Hard. 

You trail your hand up your body, stopping only when you find his still attached to your waist. His deep breath wafts over your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. 

Ever so slowly, he leans over you, his lips locking in on your pulse point, just below your jaw. You sigh out a whimper into the quiet hallway as his lips linger on the sensitive skin, your knees failing you as you let your weight fall against him.

In a heartbeat, his lips are gone, the skin cold without his touch and he takes a step back, his hand around your waist coming to hold your hips at an arm’s length. You spin in his grasp, your head swimming from the wine, his kiss, and the jarring movement. 

He stands there with an easy smile on his lips. The same damned lips that were just on you, making you want more. So much more. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” is all he offers before his hands fall away from you and he turns and heads for his room. 

You don’t move a single muscle, watching him until he disappears behind his door and it clicks shut. 

You shutter out a breath and your shoulders fall. Your fingers come up to your neck, tracing the space where he left his kiss, and a smile grows on your face as you stroke the spot with a gulp.

You were officially in trouble.

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Forever Tags

@iprobablyshipit91  @likesiriusly @kittyque @findingfitnessforme @wonderange @captainemwinchester @xtina2191 @smoothdogsgirl @mogaruke @chin-up-love @tsunadesenjuuchiha @lyarr24 @globetrotter28 @krazykelly @roseblue373 @k-slla @stephv213 @kaydallas21 @nerdymuffinbonkcloud @magssteenkamp 

[yeeterthek33per]

Taken (Steph Catley x Reader)

A/n requested, hope y'all enjoy. 18+ Minors DNI. Smooty warning. As usual, the star marks the safe limit.

"Steph, come on, we're gonna be late for YOUR team's party if you don't hurry up."

The defender had spent the better part of an hour in the bathroom, and now you were both running late to a party that Steph had asked you to come to.

She knew she was gonna cop it from you and her own teammates if she didn't hoof it, but she had to look good. Especially if she was walking in beside you.

Hence why she was wearing a sleeveless button-up blouse and jean shorts. Something that would definitely show off muscles to compliment your own.

When she steps out of the bathroom, her point is only proven.

She grins, looking you up and down, and you blush slightly under her gaze and roll your eyes at her antics.

You're wearing black denim jeans, a yellow crop top that leaves your stomach exposed, and a black leather jacket over your shoulder.

"Come on, we have to go. I'm meeting your other teammates for the first time, I do not want to be late."

At this point, the pair of you had been together for about seven months, having moved in without much communication to her team aside from Caitlin, who you'd spent time with together on several occasions.

So it took until now for you to actually be able to meet them in person.

You both head out to the car, grabbing your keys along the way. Steph is quick to open your door for you before jumping in the drivers side.

"Ever the gentlewoman." You give her a teasing smirk, and she smiles, pecking you on the lips before starting the car and backing out of the driveway, her hand resting on your thigh for most of the drive.

The moment you walk in, there's cheering from the girls as Steph finally makes an appearance.

"Ayyy Stephyyy, she's in finally, and who's this with her?" It's Katie who yells out first.

"Yeah, Stephy, who's this? She's looking fiiine!" That earns Stina a glare from the defender and a chuckle from you.

"Oooh, Stephy brought the girlfriend, be nice guys, she's a keeper!" It's Caitlin that has you blushing a little behind Steph.

"Girlfriend?!"

"Stephy, when did this happen?"

And various other shouts are accompanying them all at once.

Steph just laughs, shaking her head.

"Alright, alright, alright. Everyone, this is Y/n, we've been together seven months. Play nice, nobody scare her away."

You chuckle softly at the brunette leaving a kiss on her cheek as you're quickly dragged away by Beth and Katie.

Caitlin slaps an arm around Steph and drags her over to sit with Viv, Manu, Frida, and Lia. Much to Steph's protests at being separated from you.

In the kitchen, you're being bombarded with questions from Katie. Occasionally, Beth intervenes and tells her to calm a bit before handing you a drink.

You're definitely a little nervous, but once the alcohol is flowing through you, Katie's not so intimidating anymore.

You spend some time just downing drinks as a mini contest with the irish girl, and you can tell straight away that the alcohol you're both consuming is probably not a healthy amount.

About two hours later, the three of you have been laughing at stories you've been sharing, and at one point, there's tears leaking from your eyes, you're laughing so hard.

There's a knock at the door about twenty minutes after that, and Katie is suddenly dragging you to the door with her, practically jumping with excitement.

"Ooh, ooh, I know who that is. It's Leah, you're gonna love her, she's a party girl like me. Blonde and tall and definitely a terrifying captain when she wants, but absolutely let's it rip at parties."

Something clicks in your head, and you go to respond before she rips open the door.

"Oh I know Leah, she's-"

"Leaaaahhh! You made it finally! My god woman, you gotta start getting here earlier. You missed all the fun with -"

Leah grins at you, a cheeky but confused smile on her face when she spots your slightly tipsy self standing at the door.

"Y/n? Oh, I know you've been having a good time then, Katie. This one will drink you under the table."

"You know each other?"

Leah gives you a cheeky wink.

"You could say that."

"Also, wait, there's no way she could outdrink me, I'm Irish."

"Katie, I love you, but she could end your liver if you tried that."

"Meh, I do that on my own accord."

Steph spots Leah walking in with you from the entryway, the music a little loud to hear what you're conversing about but she watches as the blonde puts an immediate arm around your shoulder and kisses your cheek as you grin and pat her face before heading to the kitchen again with Beth.

She feels a wave of heat course through her chest. Why were you so suddenly touchy-feely with her teammates? Why Leah in particular?

She pushed it down, rubbing it off as you were just friendly with the blonde and a little tipsy, if anything. She knows you'd never cheat on her.

Throughout the night, she watches you joke and muck around with the three girls. Occasionally, you converse with a couple of the others. But she focuses on the comfortability you suddenly have around the Arsenal captain.

She tries her hardest to push down any lingering jealousy, focusing on her conversation with Lia instead.

"And so she was talking to me like I knew her. So, the poor thing, I had to stop her and ask, and I just felt so embarrassed."

-------

"Are you kidding me? She just freaking flopped like that?" You giggle, nodding at Katie as Leah huffs lightly, poking you in the ribs.

"You missy, need to stop telling everyone that, who brought you here anyway?"

"Oh, that's another thing I haven't gotten around to telling you yet."

Leah raises a brow at you questioningly. A playful look of hurt crosses her features.

"What haven't you been telling me?"

" I know you've been busy with your injury, and I didn't wanna dump it on you suddenly. But I kind of maybe am possibly dating one of your teammates..?"

Leah raises both brows now.

"Sorry, what? When did that happen? I know I was injured, but jeez, sis, why not tell me sooner? Who is it? I want to know."

"What so you can fight them? Hell no."

"Noooo, me fight them? Neverrrr."

She leaves a sloppy kiss on your cheek, and you shove her lightly.

Steph watches this happen from the couch, and she has to bite back a growl coming from her throat.

Caitlin can see the look on her friend's face and has to hide a knowing smirk. Steph was pretty good with you, but possessive was a trait she picked up quickly, especially with you.

You were kind of oblivious to it, though, making the hilarity of the situation that much better.

Steph can see you laughing with the blonde, and she spots you leaning on the taller girl's shoulder.

It's about five minutes of that before she snaps.

She watches you kiss Leah on the cheek and give her a wink.

That's the last straw for Steph in the other room. She couldn't watch handsy mccaptain continue, and you clearly weren't even fighting it. The fact that you were participating was worse. What is going on with you?

She grabs you by the hand to drag you outside. Leaving behind a bewildered Leah, a hysterically laughing Katie and a knowingly smirking Beth and Caitlin.

Leah just turns to the others.

"I-what? Is it Steph?"

Beth just nods with a small "I probably wouldn't go and ask them now though."

-------

Back in the car, you're completely bewildered by Steph and her actions.

She looks absolutely mad, and she won't look at you. You barely got a "We're heading home early, I need to do something" out of her before you were both in the car headed back to your shared home.

"Seriously babe, what is going on with you?"

The alcohol running through your system is starting to fade off a bit.

"I could ask you the same thing."

Just as you go to reply to that. The car turns into the driveway, and she's out of the car, waiting for you to join her. Her arms over her chest, waiting impatiently.

You're completely and utterly confused by that.

You get out of the car, and you walk up to the door while Steph unlocks it, and the moment it's open, you're dragged inside and pressed harshly into the wood of the inside of it.

It makes you gasp, and Steph is pressed entirely to you, hand grasping your hip and the other in your hair.

Her lips meet yours hard, practically knocking the air from your lungs, and you can taste the strawberry daiquiri she'd been drinking just ten minutes earlier.

The kiss is rough and feverish, and it makes you dizzy and dazes you enough to momentarily forget the whole thing that just happened.

Her teeth tug at your lower lip, and she tugs st the collar of your jacket, pushing you into the wall perpendicular to the door.

Your chest heaves when she pulls away, trying to suck back in air as she kisses and nips her way down your neck, pushing your jacket off your shoulders.

"Baby, I-"

"Shut up."

*It makes you moan softly. You love it when Steph is this demanding and rough with you, and you're practically keening every time she tugs on your hair, holding your head back against the wall.

She pulls away just enough to whisper in your ear.

"Not a word out of you except 'Yes' 'No' 'please" and 'thank you' and anything otherwise I ask. Got it?"

"Yes"

"Yes, what?"

It sends a shiver down your spine, and you have to bite your tongue to not immediately moan at the sentence.

You'd both discussed this one for a while, but it never came into any situations til now.

"Yes, ma'am."

You can see the way her pupils dilate, and her breath catches in her throat.

"Good girl."

You preen under the praise, and your hands are trying to pull her closer to you. She doesn't budge, though, and instead, she lets go of your hair to pin your hands to the wall.

Her lips meet yours again feverantly, and she begins to tug at your crop top before her hand slips under it to grab at your breast and you arch softly under her touch.

You kick your shoes off intermittently, and she does the same.

At that, her leg slips between yours, pressing right into you, and you grind down on her with a whimper.

She whispers against your lips.

"So needy baby girl. Go ahead, try and get off like that."

If it weren't for the fact that your eyes were squeezed shut, they'd probably roll into the back of your head.

You roll your hips against her thigh, moving with a heavy amount of desparation and need. It just isn't enough contact, though, and you quickly find yourself whining in frustration, leaving Steph smirking as she watches you try to cum from grinding on her. Her hands release yours, and she grabs you by the jaw, walking you away from the wall and down the hall to your shared bedroom.

She presses you back into the wall again. Murmuring a "keep going."

Try as you might. You just aren't getting anywhere, and you're just about sobbing in pent-up frustration.

That's when she decides to have a little mercy on you and quickly relieves you of your crop top and flicks at the button on your jeans to open it.

You're pushed back onto the bed with a small thud, and Steph tugs at your pants to pull them off you.

Your breathing is completely ragged now, and the look in your girlfriend's eyes has you whining as she watches you writhe beneath her when she kneels either side of your right leg.

She quickly pins you again, this time she holds for second.

"Keep your hands there sweet girl. You move them and we stop, you hear me?"

"Yes, ma'am. "

You do as you're told and keep your hands latched onto the bedding above your head.

She sucks a few marks into your collar before kissing her way down to your nipple as her hands slip down between the two of you.

She grasps your thighs to spread them a little, where she looks up to watch your face as you clench your jaw.

She moves one of her hands to dip beneath the edge of your underwear, and she pulls back from you to watch as she pulls the dampened fabric from you.

Her eyes darken, and she growls a little, noticing the underwear you're wearing. Red lace.

"Were you expecting this baby girl? So desperate for me to fuck you, so needy huh? So fucking needy for me."

All you can do is whimper below her, squeezing your eyes shut once again. Holding your tongue so as not to beg her to fuck you, which would be out of line.

She can immediately tell, though, and she grins darkly.

"C'mon baby girl, tell me to fuck you, tell me how needy you were for me. How needy were you, tell me how you're such a brat as to test me like that so I could fuck this needy little pussy."

The words barely register in your brain before you're answering.

"So needy, please I need you to fuck me, fuck me til I can't remember my own name, only yours. I was such a brat. Only for you ma'am."

The words are out, and it only spurs the brunette on. She growls and finally pulls your underwear off you, leaving you bare to the cool night. You whimper, lifting your hips to meet her hand as she grazes her finger gently over your slit.

You're completely wet, and it makes her groan seeing you completely at her mercy. Her fingertips dip between your lips finally, stroking your clit and applying just enough pressure to dip inside you and back out again.

"Such a good girl for me now, aren't you?"

You moan out but when you don't say anything, you yelp at the slight spank she leaves on your thigh.

"Answer me."

"Yes."

Another spank makes you jump.

"Yes, ma'am!" It's basically a cry out, and you're thankful your neighbours house is more than two kilometres from your doorstep.

"Good girl."

Steph bends down to kiss down your chest and stomach, one particularly harsh bite has you gasping and you nearly move your hand to grasp her hair but you stop yourself.

Her mouth moves lower to your hip bown, tongue dancing into the groove where your leg meets your body and then across to just above your clit.

You have to clamp your jaw shut to avoid demanding her to move, do anything.

"I want you to scream nothing but my name and please, baby girl. My mouth is gonna be a little occupied so I want you nice and loud for me."

You moan at that.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good."

And with that, she swipes her tongue over your clit and shifts so her hands hold your legs open for her.

"Fuck, Steph!" She smirks against you, her tongue delving right into you, taking you in and sucking up your wetness, your taste exploding on her tongue.

Her lips wrap around your clit sucking it harshly and at the same time, she pushes two fingers into your entrance, setting a harsh pace, pressing right in your g spot with a curl making you see stars.

You cry out as she completely devours you. Her left hand moves to urge your legs up and over shoulders, your right staying put to allow her space to move, but a nudge from her elbow has it following the other leg.

Your thighs clench around her head, and when you start to shake around her, she doubles down. Your orgasm hits you hard and fast, and your moans echo around the room.

Knowing Steph's stamina, this would be a first of many for you. As you come down from that high, she nudges you further back onto the bed.

"So good for me, baby girl." It's said in a breathless whisper, and when she kisses you, you can taste yourself on her tongue.

"You can move your hands, baby."

With that, your hands are instantly on her. Running up under her shirt to feel the skin of her back before moving them to wait at the buttons of it.

She hums in thought for a second before urging you on.

"Go ahead."

She sits back on her haunches as you pull the buttons open one by one, enjoying the feeling of you stripping her.

She shrugs the shirt off, tossing it to only god knows where in the room. From there, you tug open the buttom on her jean shorts and unzip them. She stands off the bed to kick them off.

The dark red lace makes your mouth water a little, and as she crawls back onto the bed, your hands find the front clasp of the bra. You wait for permission, and she raises a brow, looking down at you from her position, kneeling, straddling your thighs.

"What do you say princess?"

"Can I please take these off you?"

She taps her chin for a second.

"Hm, I think you can try better than that baby girl."

"Ma'am, may I please take these off you? I've been such a good girl for you, please can I take them off?"

She leans down to peck your lips.

"Much better princess. Go on then. Take them off."

You don't wait for much else. You unclip the bra, and she slowly lets it fall from her shoulders to her hands before tossing it.

She watches as your pupils darken and you have to resist the urge to grab her straight away. Instead, she goes back to standing, and you follow.

Tugging at the elastic waistband of the panties, you slip them down her legs, and she steps out of them.

A whine gets caught in your throat at the sight, and you look up at Steph with pleading eyes.

She chuckles and runs her fingers through your thoroughly tousled hair. Her other hand cups your cheek, her thumb running over your bottom lip, pulling at it slightly.

She lets it dip between your teeth, and you do as silently instructed and suck it gently, letting it press into your tongue as you hollow your cheeks.

Steph groans and then pushes you back onto the mattress and moves to sit on your stomach. Your hands settle on her hips, and she looks down at you with a dangerous look in her eyes.

"You want to touch me?"

Instantly.

"Yes Ma'am."

"How bad?"

"God so bad, please."

She chuckles darkly and shuffles a little further up your chest.

"How about taste me?"

"Fuck, please, I want to taste you, please let me feel you."

"Good girl." It's a little more breathy, and she moves to hover over your head. You know better than to move without permission, though.

"Well? You want to taste, huh? Taste how wet I am for you. Do it."

That's all the permission you need, and you tug her down to sit on your face. Tongue lapping at her almost immediately, a breathy groan leaves you as you finally get a taste of her sweetness.

Fun fact: Did you know, the more upset a woman is, the sweeter she tastes when she orgasms?

Whatever had her upset earlier has her tasting like sweets to you to when she cums.

And that's exactly what you're gunning for as you fuck her with your tongue.

Her hips rock against you as she moans your name out into the cool air. Her hands are tugging your hair, and praises slip from her lips that only encourage you.

Her movements stutter, and she cries out, one hand steadying her on the bed, the other still clamped tight in your locks while you suck on her clit to bring her down.

Suddenly, it all clicks as her breathing slows to a calmer form. As she slips off your face. The memories of tonight set in over the top of the haziness and a smirk plays at your lips.

Her dragging you out directly after you kissed Leah on the cheek, her words about you intentionally testing her, being a brat, the immediate anger turning to heated passion as you get in the door.

It all makes sense now.

What Steph is not expecting to hear immediately after her orgasm is your soft voice in an almost cheeky tone whispering your safe word.

"Pudding."

Her head whips up at that.

"What's wrong? Shit, was I too rough? Was I-." She catches herself at the look on your face. There's a smirk there and a mischievous look in your eyes.

"Were you jealous?" The undertone of your accent makes her shiver.

"I- no! I was not jealous! You were the one testing boundaries. I mean, I wasn't- she was touchy and-"

You chuckle softly and sit up to grab her face and kiss her. She kisses back but is slightly confused when you pull back. It's a much softer but still mischievous look on your face.

"Baby, it's cute that you were, but you definitely shouldn't be jealous of Leah."

She frowns slightly, a round of protests ready to leave her lips, but you lift a finger to them. You urge her back until she's leaning against the headboard and you're in her lap.

"I'm serious, baby, don't be." And you lean down slowly to whisper in her ear. "Fun fact. Us Williamsons really differ in how we look, so it's kind of hard to tell that we're sisters."

At that, the words process and her eyes close as she lets her head thump against your chest, and you start giggling softly.

She feels the vibrations of you laughing, and she looks up at you again, her cheeks having completely gone just about as red as the uniform her and your sister share.

She whines at you.

"Seriously, baby, that's who your sister is? You couldn't have mentioned that earlier? That your sister is my captain? Oh god, I've completely gone and embarrassed myself in front of her, too."

You can only laugh harder, tears coming to the corner of your eyes as she facepalms.

You slow your laughs enough to run your fingers through her hair and console her, though less meaningful than she likes.

"It's okay baby, you didn’t know, and honestly, I would have told you sooner if it wasn't for the fact that she didn't even know you existed til now. Well, that you existed as my girlfriend."

Her face only heats up more, and she just completely melts against you. To the point where she's just completely non functioning as she processes your words over and over.

"Baby!"

Your laughter slows, and to your credit, you do whisper small apologies against her hair.

"So you're saying she never even knew we were dating before I went and dragged you from that party without a word to the other girls?"

"Welllll..."

"Baby, please, this can't get much worse, can it?"

You can't even keep a straight face at that.

"I'd only told her about me having a girlfriend on the team about five minutes before you grabbed me. I didn't actually tell her who it was."

"Oh my god, Y/n! For fucks sakes! Seriously?!"

"I mean, yeah?"

She huffs and pushes you back onto the bed with a small groan. She rubs at her face.

"Glad you're finding the whole thing funny, I don't think I can ever face her again!"

You give her a few minutes but shes still just sitting there with her head in her hands.

"You okay?" Its said in a half teasing tone and her answer comes back a resounding and muffled.

"No."

She drops her hands and tackles you back onto the mattress, and you squeal as she does so, and her hands pin your shoulders to the bed.

"You're so gonna pay for that."

"Oh yeah?"

"Most-fucken-definitely."

Her lips slam back onto yours, and your hands almost slip up to grab her hips, but her hands grab them, slamming them back onto the mattress again.

"Oh, you don't get to touch for the rest of the night, little brat. That privilege is gone now."

You whimper under her hard gaze. And as she sits up a little, she whispers a soft "Stay."

You nod, and she gets up to reach into the closet, pulling out one of your ties.

You gulp as she walks back towards you, swiftly climbing back onto the bed and telling you to go back up by the headboards. Her hands manoeuvre the tie around both of your wrists and tighten them, locking them in place against the headboard.

She then gets up to go digging through the closet again, pulling out a box you know thoroughly by now.

She pulls out another tie when you go to plead with her, telling her you'll be good, and she ties it around your head.

"Not another fucking word, brat."

It makes your head fuzzy, and everything goes back to being hazy again.

She pulls out a small bullet shaped object that you know well what she's going to do with. And then she pulls out the strap and a dildo you hadn't seen yet. It's red and sparkly and makes you shake a little.

"If you cum before I say you can, you won't cum for two months. Hear me?"

You nod slowly.

"Good."

The last time you'd disobeyed that, you were surpisingly proven wrong in thinking she would cave, but no, she edged you for a whole month.

You knew better than to try and finish yourself and risk getting caught because she would only add weeks on to the punishment. Touch starvation can be a cruel but effective persuasion.

Hell, Steph wouldn't kiss you during that first time you were punished unless you got on your knees and begged for it.

That was established on the first day the two of you had started experimenting with this.

The thought of having to do that again makes several shivers run through you.

"I say, we go for ten minutes, no cumming. If you can make it until then, I'll let you finish yourself off."

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

It's about four in the morning by the time your exhausted body is let down gently onto the mattress again. Steph is covered in a thin layer of sweat, and her hair is up but sticking to her forehead.

Her chest is heaving beside you. She'd taken the tie off you earlier to "Let you feel me fucking you. Mark me all you like baby girl, those hands dont leave me while I'm fucking that sweet little pussy."

The gag had come out much before then. For much more... visual purposes.

Your throat was sore and ran dry about thirty minutes ago. Your lips are swollen, and you're covered neck to knee in hickies.

Your ass cheeks were red raw and sore and your centre certainly felt thoroughly fucked through.

Steph's stamina never ceased to amaze you sometimes.

She tosses the strap into a corner off the room and takes very careful steps off the bed to go get water and a cloth, thoroughly pleased with herself at that.

She takes a drink and offers the bottle to you while she wipes you down.

You drink the remaining water in slow sips, watching through hooded but loving eyes as your girlfriend carefully cleans you up.

She walks to the laundry to dump the cloth and throws the bottle into the trashcan beside the bed. She goes to the bathroom to wipe herself down too and then staggers back to the bed and under the sheets, in beside you, thoroughly spent for the night.

You curl into her, letting her arm fall onto your waist, pulling you closer to her.

She kisses you softly. Gentler than she had been all night. Soft praises are muttered into the kiss. Followed by sweet nothings in your ear as you fall asleep on her chest.

Her lips press one final "I love you so fucking much, Baby girl." Into your skin as you drift off completely, letting the early morning hours take you into unconsciousness.

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

The next day at training is almost unbearable.

At least for Steph. You're back at home still under the covers, though now showered and in pyjamas while she's at the field, getting absolutely shredded by her teammates.

Leah isn't even doing anything. It's all Caitlin, Katie, Beth, and Lia ripping into her about the various marks on her neck and thighs and the slight limp in her run as she completes the various drills with them.

All the blonde captain does is watch on with an amused look on her face, even though Steph can't quite meet her eye the whole time.

Eventually, she does corner the brunette after training alone.

"Look, I'd give you the whole, 'hurt my sister, and I'll bury your corpse speech', but judging by the look on your face, you'd probably do that for me. I am just gonna say this, though. Might wanna consider using a better quality concealer than doesn't melt with sweat."

With that, the English captain gives the poor girl a cheeky wink and lets her go.

At least the captain knows her sister's taken now, though... right?

[streetlight11]

I Will Always Love You

Summary: You have known each other for years and practically watched the other grow up thanks to living right next door. Nobody knows how you both truly feel except for yourselves. Now that you're in your mid twenties, you felt the need to put all that childish acts aside and finally acknowledge that feeling you've both kept in your hearts for years

Theme: neighbours au, friends to sort of enemies to lovers

Genre: slowburn, smidge of angst, romance, fluff

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, drunk, slight tension, snowed in briefly, slight anxiety, mild language

W/C: 10k

Pairing: Lee Minho x Fem!Reader

a/n: Happy New Year everyone! 🎉 May 2024 bring peace, health, happiness and success to you all 🩵 Thank you to those who follow my account and for liking my writings that I've posted thus far! To many more writings and ideas this year 💃🏽

You and Minho go way back. You practically grew up with him since he was indeed your neighbour. It’s impossible to split you up with him back in kindergarten and the first few years of primary school. Both of you were like two peas in a pod, even your close friends and classmates knew about your very close friendship with him. Despite his odd personality that just screams Scorpio and his peculiar love for dark humour, you seem to adapt to him really well that not many people can do. Unfortunately, halfway through primary school, his friends started to separate you from Minho.

They would hang out with him before you could find him after school, they would call you multiple different names saying you’re clingy, they would embarrass you by saying you only stick under Minho’s arms like a leech wherever he went. And the worse part is, Minho did nothing to defend you. He did nothing to stop his own friends from bullying you like that.

That was the reason why you slowly distanced yourself from him since his friends would literally shoo you away like you were a peasant.

Eventually, you grew a dislike of him for what he did, even up till this day where you were both turning 25 in September and October. The thing is, you both still lived with your parents which means you still see him everyday just that he lives a completely separate life from you. Your sister however has moved out long ago since she got married.

No doubt, you miss being close to him.

Those times where you would laugh and play catch with him in his backyard. When you’d cry in his arms when someone in kindergarten steals your crayons. Where you would stay up with him past bedtime, writing whatever you wanted to say to each other on drawing blocks and showing it to the other at your bedroom windows that were facing each other. How he would walk with you to and from school, wanting to act like the bigger one since he’s a boy when in reality, he’s 27 days younger than you. Minho was your best friend but that’s just it, isn’t it?

He was your best friend… Not anymore…

Both of you grew up really well thanks to puberty and deep down, Minho couldn’t lie that you still look the same except you’ve gotten prettier. Your fashion sense is still somewhat boyish but not as bad as when you were younger, where you just wore big shirts and ¾ trousers. Now, you’ve worn dresses and skirts a few times for special occasions but you always wore jeans.

Sometimes you go for a feminine outfit with skinny jeans and crop tops while on some days you go for oversized shirts or hoodies with baggy cargo pants or jeans. And you are never a heels girl, only for special occasions. Most of the time, you are seen in sneakers and it suits you a lot. He’d be damned but he agrees that you look the best in sneakers.

You look a lot more confident in sneakers compared to heels. The only thing is, he’s been hiding a big secret from everyone including his parents that he doesn’t plan on revealing it to anyone anytime soon. Minho can lie to everyone but he cannot lie to himself. Seeing you grow up before his eyes, watching all the good and bad times you go through, seeing how puberty did its magic on you and witnessing how different of a person you are now in terms of personality, Minho couldn’t help but fall in love with you.

Unfortunately, his ego is too high for him to easily admit that so he chose to keep that a secret from everyone and act as if he still doesn’t like you.

It is a rainy Saturday evening and your friends Changbin and Chan came over earlier to study and do your assignments together with you. Changbin drove here while Chan rode his motorbike and since the weather wasn’t that great, your mother insists for them to stay for dinner or at least until the rain stops. You were in the kitchen, helping your mother prepare the food and plates on the dining table when they both offered to help. Your dad was out working overtime so it’s just you and your mother at home with your two friends.

She then asked you to text your dad saying there’s food at home and he doesn’t have to buy it after work. You remembered your phone was in your room so you rushed up the stairs to find it. A few minutes passed and you still haven’t come downstairs. Mothers being mothers, she gave the boys a sympathetic smile before she asked either one of them to go check on you.

Changbin nodded and left as Chan stayed behind to help scoop out the beef stew into the bowl. Meanwhile, Changbin softly approaches your room to see where you are. When he saw you by your vanity table where your phone is charging, he tiptoed over to you who was standing with your back facing him.

You were busy texting your best friend Lily when suddenly, a strong muscular pair of arms wrapped around your waist to surprise you. You gasped softly from surprise, glancing to your right to find Changbin’s grinning face just staring back at you.

“What’s taking you so long, dummy?” He asked, earning a laugh from you.

“I was texting Lily. Why? Missed me already?” You teased him knowing there was no effect on him because he is already happily in love with his best friend and boyfriend, Felix.

“Of course, I always miss you.” Changbin said, nudging your cheek with his nose playfully.

He finally lets go of you and leaves the room with you hand in hand. Both of you completely missed the way someone witnessed all this from across your bedroom window in the dark. You came back downstairs to have dinner with everyone, only for your dad to come home when you were halfway done with your meal. Hours passed and you were in your bedroom with your friends when Chan stood by your window to look at the night sky. Suddenly, his words caught your attention.

“Hey Y/N, is that your neighbour you told us about?” Chan asked while staring at something downstairs. You got out of bed and walked towards him only to follow his trail of sight. Sure enough, you saw Minho playing catch with his cats. If you remember correctly, they were Soonie, Doongie and Dori. You naturally smiled at the sight of him playing with his cats.

“Yeah…” You simply said before Changbin frowned at you with a question in mind.

“Wasn’t he like your best friend at one point?” He asked, making you sigh and walked back into your room to sit on your bed.

“He was…”

“Then what happened?” Chan asked as he now sat on your study chair, curiously waiting for your reply.

“We… grew apart.”

“There must be a reason why you grew apart, no? I mean, if you two were really close friends, you wouldn’t wanna grow apart from each other… Unless something happened that made you choose that path.” Changbin said and you immediately felt upset.

“We used to be inseparable. He never told me he wanted me to give him space or anything and he simply stayed close to me too wherever we went. Until our third year in primary school, his friends started calling me names and said I was always clinging onto him like a leech. He never said anything to defend me or stop his friends. Ever since then, I slowly distanced myself from him because of his friends and he never apologised so I just decided to forget about it.” You finally explained to them the full story.

“I’m so sorry…” Chan said, making you smile despite the tears threatening to fall.

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault.” You said as they both looked at each other and Changbin decided to drop the bomb on you.

“Hey, do you mind if I ask you something?”

“Sure. What is it?” You asked as you waited for his reply.

“Do you miss him?”

You fell silent for a while, not knowing how to respond. Your mind screams no but your heart screams yes. It’s difficult to choose one answer but you knew deep down, which is the right answer you’ve been holding onto all these years.

“I do…”

They chose to drop the topic and talked about the plan next weekend to hangout at the club. They soon left to head home after saying and hugging you goodbye at your doorstep since it was no longer raining. That night, before you went to sleep, you walked over to close your window and turn on your air conditioner when you saw Minho cradling Soonie in his arms as he entered his bedroom. You quickly closed the window and drew the translucent curtain over to cover your window while you peeked to see him.

Minho kissed Soonie’s nose as he nuzzled his face into her body. She licked his nose a few times before he placed her down on his bed and soon walked over to his window. You quickly hid behind the wall, afraid he might see you. If only you knew the reason why he actually went to his window, you wouldn’t have moved away that quickly.

A week later, you were just getting ready to head out with Chan and Changbin while your parents were out for their anniversary dinner. You wore a pretty lavender body fitting dress that stops about two inches above your knees. Changbin texted you saying he was already on his way to your house in a cab, together with Chan. Knowing they would reach in just 5 minutes, you decided to head downstairs and waited there instead. You had just locked your front door when the sound of a door closing followed by keys jingling made you turn to your right.

There, you saw Minho leaving his house as well. He was wearing a black silk dress shirt with the first few buttons undone, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows, tucked into his light washed denim skinny jeans and a pair of mens boots. His hair was styled up to show his forehead and bangs to fall and frame his face.

He looked sickeningly handsome. You’re almost jealous of it.

“Does mommy know you’re sneaking out of the house?” Minho asked as he came next to you who was just leaning on the short brick wall that separates your house yard from his.

“I don’t need to sneak out because they know where I’m going.” You said with a soft scoff.

“Mmm, so they’re aware that you’re going out wearing something like this? Naughty girl…” Minho teased you with that charming smirk on his face.

“I’m 25, Minho. I can wear whatever I want.”

“Technically, you’re still 24.” He’s right. You still have four months till your birthday but who cares.

“You’re so annoying.” You whispered to yourself as you saw a taxi gradually slowing down towards you. When the vehicle finally comes to a stop in front of you, the two heads that popped out from the windows made you relax. It was Chan, Changbin and Felix. You entered the cab without saying anything else to Minho, ignoring the way he was keeping his eye on you even after the cab had driven off. One thing he completely forgot to do was to compliment you on how pretty you looked tonight.

Half an hour later, you arrived at the club and soon got out of the vehicle with your friends. You managed to enter the club since the queue wasn’t that long and made your way to the bar to get your drinks. You stayed by Chan the entire time since Felix was with Changbin. That night, you had no idea why but you just felt like letting loose and drinking however much booze your body can take.

Minutes ticked by and you were now on your 7th shot of tequila. You were clearly drunk but not enough to drop dead unconscious. Chan was talking to you about this girl he met on this dating app and was just listing out all the things he liked about her when you suddenly dragged him to the dancefloor. He danced with you with no sense of awareness of your surroundings. Everyone else was just as drunk as you, dancing their hearts out letting their limbs move to the beat.

You were too busy swaying your hips to the song when someone slips in front of you and takes your hands in his gently. Your vision was hazy as you found it difficult to keep your eyes open. The person danced with you, bringing your hands up over his shoulders and dropping them there while his hands rested on your lower back comfortably. For some reason, you felt like the touch was very familiar.

The music was drowning you, wanting to just focus your vision on the person you’re dancing with. Just then, he leaned down to say something in your ear, loud enough to hear over the booming music.

“You’re very drunk.” He said, your mind was running amuck.

“I know.” You giggled but he kept his lips by your ears, not wanting to pull back and let you see his face.

“I should take you home.”

“N-No… Take me to your home.” You giggled as you tangled your fingers in his hair softly to play with it.

“I don’t think you will like that, Y/N.”

Oh, he knows your name. This must be Chan… right?

He then guides you towards the entrance, only for you to panic saying you need to tell your friends that you’re going home and all that so they wouldn’t get worried. But instead, he told you to do that in the cab to avoid you from falling down. Not long after, the cab came and you entered the vehicle with him. During the car ride, you ended up falling over with your head in his lap. You fell asleep with your left arm stretched over the seat while your right hand gently held onto his thigh for support.

The next thing you knew, you woke up the next morning in your bed with a really bad hangover. And yet, the memories from yesterday still lingers in the back of your mind and the mysterious guy remains unknown. Later in the afternoon, you went to make a group call with Chan and Changbin and they picked up your call with ease.

“Hello?” You asked into the line and they both replied at the same time.

“Hey. What’s up?”

“Were any of you guys with me last night at the dancefloor?” You said and you could hear both of them humm in thought.

“I was with you briefly when you dragged me to the centre but I don’t really remember anything after. I was really drunk.” Chan laughed.

“I was with Lix the entire time. So I’m clearly out of the picture.” Changbin giggled as you heard a shuffle from his end but then it stopped.

“Because I was dancing with someone and he sent me home last night. I thought it was one of you guys.”

“Definitely not me then.” Changbin said and so did Chan.

“I don’t think I was sober enough to even send myself home…” Chan said lightly but then he paused. The line fell silent and he spoke up again, “But if neither of us sent you home, who did? And how would they know where you live?”

He does have a great point.

“That’s what I’m confused about. How would a stranger know where I lived? Unless it’s one of you guys?” You asked as your brain began to search for ideas on who it could be. All but one was suddenly missing from your list by accident.

“Maybe it’s your sister!” Changbin said only for you to scoff in disbelief.

“It was a guy! And why would my married sister be at a club when she has a pair of twins to take care of?” You asked, only for Chan to laugh out loud and tease the other male in the call.

“Maybe it’s your cousin?” Chan asked but you knew it wasn’t a relative. Just then, Changbin mentions someone you completely forgot about.

“What if it’s him?”

“Him… who?” You asked in a slow pace, hoping he wasn’t talking about who you’re thinking.

“Your hot but ex-best friend neighbour?” You can’t believe he said it.

“No… No, it can’t be. How would he know I was there? That’s impossible.”

“Probably he just happened to be at that same club. That is the only club in this area anyway…” Chan suggested, making you frown. What if it’s true? That’s the only logical explanation as to how the person knew where you lived and knew your name. If it wasn’t any of your friends, it couldn’t have been a total stranger. But why? Why would he do that when he clearly didn’t have to?

This isn’t making any sense…

Nevertheless, you made an excuse saying you needed to help your mom run some errands so you ended the call. That night, you were just sitting by your window staring at the beautiful starry night sky when you saw Minho enter his room. He paced around his room with a deep frown on his face. Just then, he took you by surprise as he grabbed the hem of his hoodie and pulled it over his head, leaving him shirtless for you. A soft gasp left your lips as you quickly closed your window before he saw you.

Little did you know, right after he took off his hoodie, he heard the sound of your windows being closed so his gaze naturally flew across the room just in time to see you lock your last window and disappeared into your room. Minho chuckled quietly to himself as he went to take a quick shower. After he was done, he laid in bed staring into his ceiling with the same scene just repeating over and over again in his head.

The way you danced with him last night, the way your fingers tangled into his hair, the way you fell into his lap, the way you slept the entire car ride back home, the way he carried you into your home and all the way to your bedroom, the way you unconsciously whined when he pulled away from you, the way he took the chance to gently caress your cheek while whispering the words he never dared to say to you in person now, the way your lips looked so soft and kissable but he had to restrain himself from doing something while knowing you were drunk.

Minho pushed all those thoughts to the back of his mind, hoping he’ll forget all about it as the days go by. Wanting none of that to bother him because if it does, he would probably come knocking at your doorstep and tell you how he truly feels about you. Clearly his ego would be crushed by that so he chooses not to.

Months had passed and it was your birthday today. Your parents invited your sister’s family, your friends Chan, Changbin, Lily and also Minho’s family over to the house for your birthday celebration. It was just going to be a private birthday party for you. You wore a pretty blue semi flowy dress to match the theme of the decorations. Your mother knew you loved blue so that’s why the decorations were all blue in colour. With the right amount of food and desserts she ordered, you can’t wait to have a good time. The only thing is, you were kind of hoping Minho would come.

You missed him a lot but you weren’t sure if he feels the same towards you. Nonetheless, those thoughts were thrown out of the bus the minute your friends arrived. The party started after 3pm and your friends came just one minute after 3 so you got distracted really fast. As the hour went by, your sister, your brother in law and your twin nephew and niece finally came. You greeted them warmly while your brother in law handed you a gift bag.

“Happy birthday Y/N! Your sister and I picked this out for you so we hope you like it.” He said, making you laugh.

“Thank you! I just hope it’s not something weird.” You joked and they laughed. Your niece and nephew hugged you to say hello and wish you a happy birthday before they went to greet your parents. A few minutes later, your doorbell rang again so you went to see who it was. Surprised to see Mr and Mrs Lee standing there with a gift bag and a box filled with home baked cookies.

“Happy birthday dear. Here’s your birthday present and the cookies you loved to eat when you were younger.” Mrs Lee said, making you giggle.

“Aww Mrs Lee, you shouldn’t have…”

“It’s okay my dear. Today is your day.” Mr Lee said as you welcomed them in. Though you did feel a little sad that Minho wasn’t here with them, maybe he really doesn't care about you anymore. You joined your friends in your living room as they played with the twins. Just then, Changbin spoke up from beside you.

“He didn’t come?”

“No…” You said but somehow, he could tell your tone was off.

“Were you hoping he’d come?” He asked softly, not wanting to upset you in any way possible. Your silence was enough for him to apologise even though he knew it wasn’t his fault. Changbin rested his hand over your knee and gently caressed it to comfort you and it partially worked. Hours passed and you were just playing with your niece when the doorbell rang.

“Y/N sweetie, can you go and see who that is?” Your mom called from the dining table where the adults were eating and chatting. With that being said, you nodded and got up to see who it was. Maybe your mom ordered something she forgot about. As soon as you pulled the door open, you froze at the sight of someone too familiar standing at your doorstep. Minho glanced down at your attire before meeting your eyes and he gave you a little smirk.

“W-What are you doing here?” You asked rather softly, unable to calm your nerves.

“What does it look like? I came to celebrate your birthday… And also have free food.” Minho said as he took a step forward while you took a step back. Minho smirked at you cheekily before he tapped the tip of your nose with his finger and whispered, “It’s good to see you again.”

The minute he walked in, your parents greeted him with so much love. Your mom hugged him tightly and he embraced her as though she was his mother. Your mother asked him to make himself at home and just take whatever food he wants, only for him to thank her. Meanwhile, you glanced over to your friends and both Changbin and Chan looked at you with shocked eyes.

The twins greeted Minho warmly as he lifted your niece on his waist while your nephew ran to take his favourite stuffed animal and bring it to Minho.

You’ve never seen him mingle around with kids before, not really knowing what to expect considering he’s an only child. So to see him being greeted warmly by kids who basically met him for the first time, it’s making your heart tingle. To avoid looking obvious, you quickly went to sit next to Changbin while Lily and Chan were talking about school. Your friend looks at you worriedly but all you did was smile.

“Are you okay?” He asked, making you nod.

“Are you sure?” He asked again, knowing you damn well that you’re not anywhere near okay.

“Yeah! I’m okay.” You smiled as you watched Minho get dragged by the kids to play with them together with Chan and Lily who were seated by the toys. Every now and then, Minho would glance at you and you’ll look away as though you didn’t mean to look at him.

Minho’s lips would unconsciously curl upwards slightly without making it obvious that he’s smiling at you. The sun was starting to set and your mother was preparing the candles for your cake. You were just in your room, charging your phone and also wanting to get away from the whole awkward situation downstairs for a bit when a familiar voice speaks up from your bedroom doorstep.

“I thought the birthday girl should be downstairs mingling with her guests?” He asked as you turned around to find Minho leaning against your doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. Why does he look so fucking handsome tonight in just a plain black shirt and jeans?

“I was just about to head back down.” You said, avoiding his gaze as you turned your back to him once more. Minho carefully walked over to you while keeping the conversation alive.

“Really? You don’t seem like you are going to move any time soon though.”

“I-I have to send an email for my school work.”

“For 10 minutes? Yeah right.” He said as his voice sounded a lot closer now. You turned around to say something to him but instead, you flinched back when your arms accidentally crashed into his chest. A soft gasp left your lips when he smirked down at you charmingly.

“U-Um… We should go downstairs.” You said as you slipped past him to head towards the door but Minho caught your wrist and tugs you back slightly to stop you from walking.

“Hey… I just-” Minho’s words get stopped when your sister’s voice echoes down the hallway.

“Y/N? Minho? Come on! It’s time to cut the cake!” She suddenly appears by your door only for Minho to let go of your wrist gently so she wouldn’t question anything. Soon, all three of you went downstairs but while you were about to head to the dining table where the cake was lit, Minho spoke up, earning a frown from you.

“I have to go. I just remembered I need to submit my essay tonight and I still haven’t finished it yet.” Minho said as he bowed to your parents and was about to walk out of the house when you reached for his hand in yours and tugged him back gently.

“N-No, please… Don’t go?” You whispered with a shaky breath. Minho could’ve sworn he saw tears, his heart broke seeing you tear up but he couldn’t just hug and kiss you right there even if that’s all he could think of. So instead, he reached up to hold your face with his right hand and gently caressed your cheek with his thumb to comfort you.

“Happy birthday Y/N.” He whispered softly as he turned and left without looking back. You stood by the door as Chan came over to take you in. Not before he rested a gentle hand on your lower back and comforted you as best as he could.

“Come on… He’ll come around soon. You know he will.” He said, only for you to sigh. Throughout the night, you weren’t as happy as you were a few hours ago. From time to time, you kept glancing over to the house next to yours. Your friends could tell that your mind was somewhere else so they decided not to stay long. But before they left, they made sure to hug you tightly and Lily didn’t forget to say something sweet to you.

“If he’s meant for you, he will come back. Only idiots would be dumb enough to not choose you as a partner.” Lily said, making you giggle lightly. That night, you couldn’t help but feel sad thinking about how Minho slipped away from you yet again. You were just curled up in bed when there was a soft knock on your bedroom door.

“Baby? Are you still awake?” Your mother asked as she opened your door. You hummed to respond, hearing her walk closer until she was right behind you.

“Oh, my sweet baby. Come here.” She said while climbing into bed, only for you to immediately throw yourself in her arms and cry. She held you in her arms securely while you cried your heart out.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“I-I never said this to anyone before… b-but I-I miss him…”

“I know, baby. I’m sure he misses you too… Just… Give him some time to figure things out. I’m sure he’ll come around.” She said, hoping you’ll feel better. Thankfully, you calmed down with her words so you stopped crying and she kissed your forehead before tucking you into bed.

It’s been 2 and a half months now since your birthday party. You didn’t celebrate Minho’s birthday simply because his parents told you he was out of the country with his friends for his birthday. A part of you knows he was just trying to avoid you and so his parents couldn’t throw a party for him only to invite you. Just last week, your parents told you about their plan on going for a staycay with the Lee’s family for the holidays. Apparently they’ve already booked the accommodation which is a beautiful wooden lodge up in the snowy mountains.

It was only after they told you that you remembered it was your friend’s wedding on the day they planned to leave for the mountains. Unfortunately for you, it seems like you have no other choice but to go the next day instead. How you would make your way to the mountain, that’s your task to do some planning at least you can join them on the trip anyway. Your sister and her family would be going too but they’re all leaving on the first day morning but you had to stay behind.

Today was the day where your family and his, had already left to go to the lodge up the mountains while you’re here preparing for your friend’s wedding. Hours prior to leaving the house, you made sure to pack all the clothes you need for your trip so that you wouldn’t be rushing tomorrow or tonight knowing you’ll be back way past 7pm despite the wedding reception starting at 1pm. It was one of your old friend’s wedding from college. Her name is Roseanne and she is considered one of your close friends.

You wore a pretty turquoise boat neck dress that stops a few inches below your knees, pairing that with a simple pair of black open toe heels. Your hair cascades down your shoulder and back in soft straight waves.

When you arrived at the wedding venue, it was very beautiful. The colour scheme for the wedding decorations and the altar is just spectacular. Since you were there alone, you didn’t really know anyone there except for Roseanne’s sister and parents. Time passes by so fast, you don’t even realise it was almost 10 o’clock now. You knew you needed to head home and get your rest since you planned to leave early in the morning tomorrow.

With that being said, you bid her family goodbye and made sure to meet Roseanne and her newlywed husband to say your final congrats before leaving the venue. You called a cab and it came as soon as you called. The drive back home seemed shorter than the drive to the venue earlier, maybe due to less traffic at night.

Nevertheless, you paid the cab fare and got out of the vehicle after saying thank you. The cab driver soon drives off while you went inside your house and locked it.

You let out a tired sigh as you dragged yourself up the stairs to your bedroom. You turned on the lights and walked over to your vanity table beside your bedroom window. Taking a quick glance, you saw that his bedroom was dark. You wondered what he could be doing there at the lodge with your family.

With a soft sigh, you combed your fingers through your hair and brought it up to hold it in place with your claw clip. You began to remove your makeup with your makeup wipes while blasting your favourite tunes. Luckily you already packed your clothes and necessities. A few minutes later, you just left the bathroom down the hall when your phone started ringing. You glanced down to see your mother’s caller ID on your lock screen so you answered it.

“Hello?” You said into the line.

“Hi sweetie. Have you packed your bags?”

“Yeah. I’m just bringing my luggage and my sling bag.”

“Great! Anyway, there seems to be a change of plans. Minho is actually home right now and he planned to drive up the mountains tonight so he would reach here tomorrow morning. Since you’re both at home, why don’t you go with him tonight? He just got off the phone with his mother and he said he’s okay with driving here with you.”

Minho’s not with them?

“Oh… Uh… Sure, I guess.” You said, sounding a little unconvincing to her and she laughed.

“Alright dear, just be downstairs before midnight, okay? I love you baby.”

“Okay mom. I love you too.” You said before ending the call.

Great… What better way to have a reunion by spending a 6 hour drive with him. This is gonna be awkward…

Nonetheless, you did what was necessary before midnight rolled around. It was finally midnight in a blink of an eye and you were just locking your front door when you heard his voice speak up from behind you.

“Didn’t think you’d be left behind as well.”

You turned around to find him strolling towards you in his sweatpants, hoodie with his oversized shirt peeking underneath it and a long windbreaker jacket over it. His hair was damp and fluffy so you’re assuming he just got out of the shower and yet, he still looks good.

“Wedding bells were calling me. What about you? Why aren’t you there with them already?” You asked as he took your luggage from you and placed it in his car boot and proceeded to close the door. Once you were both inside his jeep, he started the car and drove off smoothly not forgetting to answer you.

“I had to retake my exam today. I suck. I know, okay? Don’t judge.” He said, making you raise your hands in a surrender position. Minho’s lips curled up into a cute smile that made you look out the window to avoid his gaze.

For the rest of the drive, both of you got quiet. He focused on driving while you were dozing off after a tiring day. Minho never held a grudge against you for sleeping while he had to sacrifice his sleep and stay awake to drive. Although, he does tend to glance over to his right to check on you but it leaves his heart fluttering every time he does that. It’s been nearly 4 hours since the drive and as he got higher up the mountains, the snow was beginning to get heavier.

Cool air seeps through the car gaps, causing you to stir awake from the sudden drop in car temperature despite the heater already turned on. You glanced up to see the car completely covered in snow while a thick windbreaker was placed over your curled up body in the passenger seat.

“How much longer till we reach the lodge?” You asked tiredly as you peeked the time on your phone screen.

“Another 2 hours, give or take.” He said while keeping his eyes on the slippery road. There’s no way you can make it to the lodge in this weather. With how heavy the snow was falling, it could be a snowstorm coming your way pretty soon. So to avoid any unfortunate events, you knew it would be the best decision to stop somewhere and wait till the morning to continue your journey. Upon having this thought, you noticed there was a hotel lodge just a few metres ahead.

“Stop there. We can’t go any further in this kind of weather.” You said as Minho drove to the open parking lot at slow speed due to the piled up snow covering his tires and almost 6 inch tall snow that was covering the ground. Once you were parked, both of you felt a little worried considering it’s now or never.

“Leave our luggages here. We’re just here to let the night pass anyway.” He said, making you frown even though you knew he had a point.

With that being said, both of you struggled to get out of the car but you still made it to the lodge safely as he clicked the lock button on his key. You entered the lodge first with him following behind you and there were quite a number of families there too and it looks like they’re snowed in as well. Minho approached the counter where a man was seen a little overwhelmed by the new guests who showed up.

“Hi, can I know why are all these people gathered here?” Minho asked, only for the man to politely smile and answer professionally.

“They’re just here for shelter since the weather forecast for tonight isn’t that great. There is a high chance that we will be stuck here tonight. Really sorry for the unfortunate situation.”

“It’s fine but uh… do you guys happen to have a spare room for us to rest in for the night?” Minho asked as you simply watched quietly beside him. You’d usually butt in and argue back with whatever decisions he’s making but tonight, you’re too tired to function.

“We do have a small room but there’s only one bed and our heaters are not that strong due to the horrible weather. We can’t fix it until tomorrow when the mechanics are open. Will that be okay?” The man said, giving Minho the chance to look at you to see how you feel about the suggestion.

“Why are you looking at me?”

“Didn’t you hear what he just said? There’s just one bed and the heater isn’t working well. Do you still want the room or not?” He asked.

“At this point, I don’t even care.” You sighed tiredly only for Minho to give the man a shrug of his shoulders.

“Fine. We’ll take it.” Minho said as he then made the payment for the room. A few minutes later, you were both sent to your room on the third level. You thanked the worker as you entered the room after Minho who was now holding the door for you. As expected, the room was just barely warm with the cold air still surrounding the room completely. You were in three layers of clothing and yet you’re still shivering. The first thing you did after taking off your shoes was to climb into bed and bury yourself under the thick covers.

You were just curled up on one side of the bed when you felt the mattress dip with his weight. Minho pulled the cover up so he could also bury himself in it. He laid on his back while you laid on your side with your back facing him. The room was silent as nobody said anything but with the subtle shifts and movements, you knew that he wasn’t asleep.

“Should’ve asked for an extra blanket. It’s still so cold…” He whispered as he shifted a little closer to you when he felt the nice warmth radiating off you.

“I just hope the weather gets better later. But right now, all I need is sleep.” You said as you buried your arms closer to your chest to keep yourself warm. Silence fills the room again but you were still shivering and Minho could feel the bed vibrating softly from it.

“You know what? Fuck it. I can’t sleep like this.” Minho said as you wondered what he was going to do next.

Just then, you didn’t expect him to shuffle towards you until you felt his chest pressing against your back while his left arm slid over your waist and reached for your arm. He slips his hand into your right hand, lacing his fingers perfectly with yours before tangling his legs with yours underneath the covers. Your heart was racing rapidly in your chest now, afraid to make the slightest of sound and movement. But Minho calms you down by caressing your hand with his thumb, feeling his soft lips press on your neck.

“Are you still cold?” He whispered quietly against your neck, making you let out a very soft whimper before saying no.

“Good.” He replied to you, holding you closer right after. This kept you warm and you both eventually managed to fall asleep.

A few hours later, you woke up feeling comfortably warm and fuzzy. You let out a soft moan as you stirred awake, feeling something soft brush against your forehead. When you manage to open your eyes, that’s where you realise the sleeping position you were in. Minho was laying on his back with you resting your head on his chest.

Your left hand was tucked between your bodies while your right hand was lacing fingers with his that was hanging past your shoulder. Minho stirred awake when he felt you let go of his hand only to slide up his chest and stopped on the side of his neck. You stayed like that even when you felt his hand glide up and down your right forearm softly.

“This feels nice…” He said quietly, not really expecting a reply from you. Your heart swelled knowing he was talking about being this close and comfortable to you once again after years.

“We can stay like this for a while more…” Your voice was almost a whisper but thankfully he heard you. Because the minute those words left your lips, you felt him press the sweetest soft kiss to your forehead. Minho couldn’t stop himself from cracking a smile against your skin, knowing you probably felt it.

“I wouldn’t wanna let go anyway.” He said ever so softly, making you blush. With that being said, you snuggled deeper into his chest. Trying to ignore the urge to kiss him right there. About two hours later, you finally got out of bed and headed back down to resume your journey to the family lodge. Neither of you mentioned the cute little cuddle session simply because you were too shy to address it in the car and even when you arrived at the lodge a few minutes past noon.

Everyone asked you and Minho about what happened last night and where you’ve been, so you told them everything. All until the cuddling part. They were just glad that you both made it to the lodge safely so you could finally enjoy the holidays in the snowy mountains.

Throughout the next two days, you were enjoying yourself a lot on the trip. From the activities to sightseeing to homemade food and to family bonding. This has probably been the only time you saw just how fun Minho truly is and how loving he was towards your sister’s children. The twins are already 9 years old and yet, Minho seems to win both their hearts. Maybe including yours too.

It was the last night of the family trip, all of you were gathered around the christmas tree when your parents began to give out gifts to their kids and grandkids. Followed by Minho’s parents giving him his presents. You got a few pretty tops from your parents while your sister got you a beautiful necklace with a simple heart charm. Just then, Minho’s mother held out a wrapped present to you with a bright smile on her face.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart. This is a gift from us that Minho helped to choose. We hope you like it.” She said, making you thank her while taking the gift from her. All eyes were now on you as the kids wanted to help you unwrap so you let them do that. Once the present was revealed, a soft gasp left your lips when you saw the brand of the box. It was a shoe, not just any shoe though… It was your favourite shoe brand.

You carefully pulled the cover open and peeled the paper back only to gasp out loud this time. It was the exact shoe that you wanted to buy for yourself the other day but was prioritizing your expenses to only buy what you need.

“I love it… I wanted to buy this a few weeks ago but I didn’t…” Your voice grew softer with every word until you were now looking at Minho.

“I noticed you like shoes. So I just gambled and picked the one with a baby blue accent. Didn’t know you wanted this exact one though.” He said, making you giggle.

“Well, thank you for the gift then.” You said with a smile, earning a laugh from him.

An hour later, everyone was starting to disperse to head to bed but you weren’t sleepy yet. You bid everyone goodnight but you stayed seated against the couch facing the fireplace. You were just admiring the shoe when a familiar voice caught your attention.

“Be careful not to burn the shoe.” Minho said as he approached you with a teasing smirk.

“Of course I won’t. I’m not that clumsy.” You replied to him while putting the shoe back in the box and pushing it under the tree, away from the fireplace. Minho took a seat on the couch as you got up and plopped down beside him.

“But really though… Thank you for the gift.” You said, earning a soft smile from him. Both of you fell silent, blankly staring at the fireplace instead of each other. You were so close to removing yourself from the room, thinking he probably feels awkward with you here now that you’re alone again but he spoke up before you could run away.

“I’m sorry…” He said very quietly while staring into the fire.

“What are you sorry for?” You asked over a whisper, finally turning to look at him. Minho kept his gaze ahead but you saw the sadness lingering in his facial expression.

“For everything? I’ve hurt you a lot and only now do I have the balls to apologise.” He chuckled but it wasn’t a happy one.

“It’s okay. I forgive you.” You said with a smile on your face, ignoring the tears that were threatening to fall. After what felt like hours, Minho finally turns to you with the deepest frown you’ve seen on him. He took his time boring his eyes into yours in search of something unknown to you.

“Why?” He asked and you were confused.

“Why not? That’s what friends do, no? They forgive each other…” You said easily only to go speechless when his eyes grew wide at the word ‘friends’. This was already pretty obvious where he got caught up and it doesn’t make sense to you. Sure you haven’t really been doing friend stuff with him for years but you still consider him your friend, even though deep down you want him to be something more.

“Friends?” He whispered out as a question so you couldn’t help but giggle lightly to brighten up the mood slightly.

“Yeah? Okay fine, technically we’re neighbours. Does that sound right to you?” You asked, only for him to finally crack a smile. This simple sight has undoubtedly awoken the butterflies in your stomach.

Both of you fell silent briefly, not really sure how to continue the conversation. You stared at your hands in your lap, picking on your cuticles out of anxiety and he noticed.

Minho could never stand seeing you having anxiety. The cuticle picking, shaking legs, fidgeting limbs and all he wants to do is to hold you close and tell you that he’s there with you. He takes this opportunity to calm you down and by that, he reaches one hand up to hold the side of your face and turn it towards him. Once you were facing him, you felt him caress your cheek with his thumb as he slowly leaned in. Partially scared that you might just pull away from him and embarrass him.

Your heart was palpitating rapidly in your chest, not really sure where this is going. Just when you feel his nose brush against the side of your nose, a familiar voice calls out to you very softly from behind Minho.

“Auntie Y/N? Can I sleep with you?” Your niece asked as Minho pulled away from you just in time for your niece to settle herself in your lap.

“Of course, baby. Come on, let’s get you to bed.” You said, turning her around to carry her in your waist while you stood up. Minho stood right after you but before you walked off, you cupped his face with your right hand and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. Minho froze seeing you smile up at him only to then carry your niece to your room. That night, he slept with a smile on his face even though it was just a kiss to his cheek.

The next day, it was time to go back home. Since Minho drove there, he and his parents took his car while you followed your family car together with your sister’s family. Both of you never spoke about last night to anyone, not even to each other. The drive back home was filled with sleep and occasional laughter. When you arrived back home after sending your sister to her house, you made your way to your room to unpack and shower since it was already 8pm.

You had just finished showering and entered your room when you saw Minho shuffling around his room shirtless with damp hair falling down his head. Of course he looked handsome as ever but at least now you don’t have to quickly hide yourself from him to avoid him seeing you.

So instead of doing that, you continued doing what you planned on doing and that was to wear your clothes and unpack.

Minho stole a few glances into your room through his window as well but you didn’t seem to look over so he never waited for you anyway. He’s just happy that you’re no longer mad at him. That’s already a great start for him to redeem himself and maybe redo his friendship with you.

Besides, that’s all you both wanted with each other… To finally be friends again and possibly more.

It's been a few days now since the trip, yet neither you nor him have spoken to each other. Today is new years eve and you didn’t really have plans for midnight. Changbin was going to celebrate new years with Felix, Lily has a party to go to that was hosted by her friends in high school while Chan is out on a date with the girl he’s been talking about lately. It’s 2 hours to midnight and you were just lounging in bed, scrolling through your twitter when your mom came to your room with a bright smile on her face.

“Hi darling. You’re not going out with your friends tonight? It’s New Year's eve…” She laughed softly but you shrugged your shoulders as a response.

“Nope. All my friends already have their own plans. And besides, it’s just new year’s.” You said proudly, earning a smile from her.

“Well, in that case, why don’t you get ready. Someone’s here to take you out to see the fireworks.” She said, making you frown.

“Who?”

“Get ready and you’ll know.” She said before kissing your forehead and left the room. With that being said, you quickly changed into a thin sweater, a hoodie over it, ripped jeans and pinned your hair up in a claw clip. You opted to just fill your brows, put on chapstick and wear your contact lens on to avoid wasting time. Once you were sort of presentable, you took your phone and left your bedroom but you definitely weren’t prepared for when you arrived downstairs. There by your couch, was Minho leaning against the back of it with his arms crossed over his chest.

He was chatting with your dad and he looked so fucking handsome as always. Minho was wearing a simple white long sleeve with black and light grey flannel, a hooded leather jacket, skinny black jeans with his hair down completely not styled and yet he still looks good. When you finally reached the base of the stairs, both of them glanced over to you and you felt shy under his gaze.

“H-Hey…” You started and Minho couldn’t help but chuckled softly at your reaction. You dad smiled at you two, telling Minho to drive safe as he gave the boy a hug. You went over to hug your parents and soon left the house with Minho. The minute your front door closes, you spoke up to him in urgency.

“You didn’t tell me you were going to drag me out tonight?” You asked, earning a laugh from him.

“It was meant to be a surprise. I guess I’m just lucky that you’re home tonight.” He said casually.

He soon started the car and drove off into the night. You have completely no idea where he was taking you but after a while, you sort of have a clue since the drive was leading you to the highest point of town where the famous lookout point was. The drive to the location was filled with singing and laughing, not really having a proper conversation. When you arrived at the lookout point, you had about an hour left till midnight. Minho parked his car to the side of the road a few metres next to the railing.

“Do you wanna stay in the car or sit outside?”

“Let’s sit outside. The night sky looks really pretty tonight.” You smiled and he nodded to your suggestion. He locked his car and you both walked over to climb over the railing and sit on it facing the lookout point.

“Wow… I’ve never been here before.” You said as you took your time to admire the view. The starry night sky, the city lights, the wonderful view of the city at this time of night.

“I always come here if I need time alone. It calms me, weirdly enough.” Minho said, earning a nod from you.

“I can totally understand why. It’s beautiful up here.” You said while looking out into the city before you. At that moment, there’s nothing more beautiful to him than the sight of you here with him after years of missing you. Both of you chatted with each other and catched up with a lot of things you missed in one another’s life. When Minho realised it was almost midnight, he got up and told you he wanted to take something from the car. You let him be as you continued to stare into the night sky.

A few minutes later, you realised you had a minute left until midnight. You were just staring blankly at the city lights when Minho’s voice caught your attention.

“Hey, let’s stand. My ass hurts from sitting there too long.” He said, making you laugh. You did as he said only to join him behind the railing. Without any thoughts in mind, you stood facing the lookout point, only to hear everyone else around that area do a countdown. Naturally, you smiled as you hugged yourself.

10…

9…

8…

7…

6…

5…

4…

“3.” He said.

“2.” You said.

“1…” You both said at the same time as everyone else yelled into the night, “Happy New Year!” At that exact moment, fireworks were brought to life as they exploded into the night sky in colourful arrays of sparks. You gasped at how pretty they looked, not regretting leaving the comforts of your bed for this. Just then you thought the night couldn’t get any better, a warm hand slips around your waist as you get turned around.

When you finally turned to the side, Minho slid his left hand onto your face and without any words exchanged, he locked lips with you. His heart was beating so fast as his hands shook from both the cold and his nerves. You smiled against his lips as you slid your hands up his chest and wrapped them around his shoulders. Minho was so scared that you would shove him away or slap him for being bold but he never thought you would kiss him back. You allowed him to pull you closer against his front, snaking both arms around your waist to secure his hold on you.

His lips were too addictive, you had to force yourself to pull away to breathe. Keeping your face close to him, you tangled your fingers into his soft hair while you held his face with your other hand and caressed his cheek with your thumb softly. Minho’s heavy breaths mixed with yours as he squeezed your waist a little before he spoke up very quietly despite the loud explosion behind you.

“I’ve missed you so much… I regret letting you slip away due to my ego. But I will never regret loving you from the day we met.” He paused as you stared into his eyes lovingly and you could tell that he was nothing but genuine.

“Y/N… I love you… I will always love you.” Minho whispered against your lips and that was all it takes for you to break into tears. You couldn’t help but bury your face in his shoulder, feeling him hug you tighter while caressing your back. He let you cry into his shoulder, never once letting you go or loosening his hold around you. Eventually, he guided you towards the car until he could sit on the hood with you in between his legs.

Once you’ve calmed down, you pull away from him to wipe your tears on the sleeves of your hoodie. Minho laughed at you but he too helped with wiping your tears away using his thumbs. When you’ve stopped crying, he holds your face in both hands and gently tilts them up to meet his eyes. As soon as you finally locked eyes with him, Minho gave you the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen before he kissed you once more.

You melted against him, resting your hands on the nape of his neck as he pulled back to gently say, “I mean what I said just now.”

Minho isn’t the kind to easily convey his feelings let alone show it to anyone. So for him to confess to you right now is a big step he took and he wasn’t going to regret it no matter what your answer is. You wanted him to know how you feel so by pulling him in for another longing kiss, Minho smiled knowing your answer was already pretty obvious.

“I love you too, Minho.” You whispered against his lips, earning a chuckle from him.

“Good because I would dig myself a hole if you didn’t.” He joked, making you giggle. That night, you stayed out with him for a few hours before he sent you home. You ended up cuddling in the back seat of his car, talking about anything and everything you could think of. You came back home feeling so happy and full. Who knew this day would come. You’re just glad you never fully gave up on him.

[lillypad910]

Blurb: Sex on the Beach

(Not what you think)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x f! Reader

Word count: 1029

Warnings: drinking/alcohol consumption, fluff. Not proofread, sorry for any errors!

Summary: Eddie, Steve, and Robin go to the bar for Rob’s birthday. You are there with your friends, checking out the guys who come in, but a certain metalhead catches your eye. He orders the drinks for his friends, but his order shocks your whole table, but you take it as an opportunity.

A/n: this is so short but I thought it was a fun and cute idea.

Emerson! Reader is coming, I promise, it's just a LOT

It’s Robin’s twenty-first birthday as she, Steve, and Eddie sit around the apartment she co-owned with the two men. “So,” Steve speaks up first, “To celebrate our dear friend Robin, I propose we go to a bar. It’s her twenty-first, she has to drink.” Eddie nods, “I’m down, haven’t gone drinking in a while.”

You are sitting in a booth in the corner of the bar, your friends giggling as they check out some of the guys around the room. “Oh, three o’clock, just coming in. Those two are hot.” One says as she gestures loosely. You and the rest of your group glance over as you watch two men and a woman walk in.

One of the guys has around shoulder length hair, neatly done to be swoopy, his jacket is red with a yellow undershirt, blue jeans that perfectly fit him. “Look at that ass, damn.” One of the girls says.

The girl has chin length hair, her jacket collar is up a bit but you can’t tell if she meant for it to be or if it just hasn’t been fixed.

Then there is the second guy, the final individual of the party. “He’s totally a hard liquor guy.” One of your friends comment, “I mean come on, that punk rock look is screaming whiskey.” “Look at his hair,” another comments. He is very attractive, definitely right up your alley with dark long curly hair that reached past his shoulder blades. His eyes are dark in color, probably brown but it’s hard to really tell in this lighting. But it is his clothes that draw you in.

Lots of denim both as jeans and a vest. His leather jacket underneath with a band t-shirt and chains that hang by his belt loops.

The trio had made their way over to a table a good ways from yours but you couldn’t stop staring at the second guy.

“How about you go up and order us the first round, Eds?” The first guy speaks up, you could barely hear him but you were listening way to hard to miss it. Eds…? God, what names use the nickname Eds…? Edward? Eddie? Wait, Eddie is a nickname for Edward also, right??

You can’t think straight with how much alcohol you had already consumed so far tonight. Your fifth beverage sits in front of you on the table, half drank and the ice starting to melt.

The guy, Eds, makes his way over to the bar, “hey, uh, can I get a bud light?” “Tap or bottle?” “Tap is fine, and a screwdriver, and…” the guy thinks for a moment, and your whole group goes dead silent trying to listen.

“Can I get a Sex on the Beach?” Your whole table spits. Alcohol flies across the table from every direction. You just sit there, eyes wide as you watch the guy give the bartender a wide smile. “Sure,” the bartender is completely unfazed, “is that all?” “Yep!”

You quickly stand, catching your entire table off guard as you quickly make your way over. “Excuse me,” you catch the bartender’s attention, “can I get a Sex on the Beach?” You ask, trying to act like you didn’t hear the conversation before. The bartender smiles at you, “sure! I’ll have all that out for you in a moment.”

You both stand there a little awkwardly, your fingers play with your short dress as you wait for your beverage, glancing at the guy next to you.

He taps his fingers on the countertop, a soft hum can be heard from him as he waits with you. First the beer is sat down, then the screwdriver, which he quickly returns both to his friends, before coming back. “And here are those two Sex on the Beaches.” You smile at the bartender, “thanks!” Eddie picks up one of the glasses as the bartender steps away. You give him a smile.

“I didn’t realize we ordered the same thing, good choice! It’s definitely one of my favorites.” You blush a bit, trying desperately to hide the fact that you ran to order one for yourself because you just had to strike up a conversation with him. “I’m (y/n), by the way.” You quickly throw in your name, hoping he catches on.

The guy smiles at you, “Eddie. Glad to see someone else appreciates a fruity beverage. I’m sorry to cut off but I should get back to my friends. Bye, (y/n).” He gives you a small wave and steps off.

You watch him walk back to his friends before walking back towards your own, a little deflated from the lake of interest he showed.

Eddie steps back up to his table with his friends who look at him, wide eyes and arms open. “What the hell was that??” Steve asks. “What?” Eddie asks, slipping back into his chair. “Dude she was totally hitting on you! Get back over there! Get her number!” Robin slaps him on the shoulder. “What? No! She just complimented my drink choice.” Robin and Steve both roll their eyes, “Eddie, she gave you her name. Women don’t just do that if they aren’t interested.” Steve speaks up and Robins nods in agreement.

“You think…?” Eddie glances back over to you, watching you sit your drink back down on the table only to catch you glance at him. “I’ll be back.” He sits his drink down and walks back over.

“Hey,” Eddie greets you and your friends. “Hi, Eddie.” You give him a smile. “Could I… Could I possibly get your number?” He asks, looking a little nervous about your answer. Your group giggles a bit, but you can’t help but blush, “I honestly thought you weren’t gonna ask.” You grab a napkin from the holder on the table and one of your friends digs in her purse for a pen, handing it over to you. You scribble your number down and write your name with a little heart next to it. You fold the napkin up before slipping it into his hand, “Call me later, ok?” You smile and he smiles back, a slight blush on his cheeks. “Definitely will.”

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[scuttling]

Flicker in the Dark - Jacob Black/Reader

Fandom: Twilight Saga Pairings: Jacob Black/Female Reader Word Count: 12,598 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Pining, Unprotected sex, Slightly aged up (Jacob is 20), Fix it fic Summary: My take on New Moon, if all of the characters were a bit more mature and Jacob got his girl. A/N: This is a third-person story that pairs Jacob with a girl who isn't Bella but who fills her role in the story; Bella doesn't exist in this universe because I find she's not as interesting to write as an original character, for me personally. The character has no name and no physical description, so treat her as an OC or a "reader," your choice there. :)

Keep reading below or link to AO3!

Bringing the idea of fixing the bikes to Jacob was the best thing she’s ever done: the best, and one of the dumbest, by far. 

They both have adult obligations now—she has class, and a part-time job, which are thankfully both online, and Jake works full time—so when the stars align and they’re free at the same time, they spend every moment in his garage like a couple of bored kids. They listen to music on his dad’s old radio, eat pizza and tacos standing up much more often than they should; Jacob isn’t twenty-one just yet, but they’re on the rez, so they sip beers sometimes, especially on the rare warm days where the sun shines into the garage and sweat prickles at their hairlines. 

He’s taller at twenty than he was when he was younger, broader and more filled out, like he’d said back on her birthday; she notices, sometimes, things like the tightness of his t-shirts stretched across his back, the way his jeans fit just, extraordinarily well. Those kinds of things you can’t help but notice, even if you’re emotionally, physically, and mentally unavailable, the way she is. 

He pokes fun at her age—forever a sore spot, especially when Edward is and will be twenty-two forever—but she catches him noticing her, too, sometimes, so she’s not a total embarrassment at least.

It doesn’t happen right away, like magic or anything, but hanging out in his garage does make her feel better; he makes her feel better, if she’s being honest with herself. He quiets the chatter in her brain, the anxiety, the self-doubt, and she smiles more when she’s with him, laughs more, gets out of her own head. She’s happier when she’s with him, too, bikes or no bikes—though the roar of the restored motorcycle engine certainly doesn’t hurt—and he’s good for her, there’s no denying that.

She remembers her dad’s advice, even more meaningful now that she’s moved out of his house and living on her own—sometimes, you gotta learn to love what’s good for you—and she even thinks she could, some days. 

That’s easy enough to say to herself, but so, so much harder in practice. She can tell Jacob is… interested, when they go to the movies, with the way he lays his hand on the armrest, palm up, in case she wants to hold it. Part of her wants to, really wants to; part just thinks about Edward and she clams up, can’t do it. She feels guilty, like she’s doing something wrong, even though he left her and not the other way around. 

She still loves him, will always love him, but Edward made his choice; she just wishes she felt free enough to make her own.

She feels guilty when they ride, too, because the one thing he’d asked of her was not to be reckless, and now she goes out of her way to find a rush wherever she can. Anything legal, be it motorcycles, rock climbing, running, skydiving, really, really big roller coasters—you name it, she’s done it, and though none of it ever worked as well as she’d hoped it would, she never stops trying. 

She knows better than to give herself over to things like drugs or binge drinking or meaningless one-night stands, but aside from that the limits to what she will try are almost non-existent. She loves the thrill of it all, loves feeling brave, feeling strong; In the end, she may wind up with a few cuts and bruises, but as long as she’s hurting no one but herself, she doesn’t feel too bad.

When she hurts Jacob, she feels awful, terrible, and she does hurt him—he’s so hurt for a while that he doesn’t want to see her, doesn’t even return her calls. She feels weak for the first time in a long time, like if she’d just been able to be what he wanted, to hold his hand, to kiss him, to get over herself, they both would have been happier. Now she just feels sad, and selfish, hurting the one person who has always been there for her, who’s always eased her pain.

She wants to respect his space, can’t bear the thought of hurting him more than she already has, but her anxiety gets the better of her; no amount of kickboxing or rock climbing has been able to take her mind off of him since that night at the movies, when he left in such a hurry. Even Edward has shifted to the back of her mind, though she has no idea when exactly that happened.

So she goes to him. Against his wishes. In the pouring rain. 

She’s so, so stupid.

He’s so, so shredded, even more so than usual; it’s the first thing she notices only because he’s soaking wet and shirtless and that makes it pretty obvious. The second thing she notices is his hair, no longer long and pulled back with a cord of leather, but cropped short, though inky black as always. The third thing she notices is the tattoo, a large, tribal design on his shoulder that looks well-healed even though she saw him less than a week ago.

She catalogs all of that, and then she remembers he’s avoiding her and that she’s here to ask for forgiveness (she’s willing to beg, but it’s sort of a last resort.)

She calls his name, but he doesn’t turn around at first, not until she’s right in front of him, fists balled angrily at her sides.  

“Jacob, I’m sorry… I’m sorry about the movie. Can we talk about it?” He huffs an unamused laugh, takes half a step closer; that kind of thing used to be playful, but now it seems almost menacing, between the muscles and the tattoo and the deepening frown on his face. 

“This isn’t about that. You–you need to leave. Now.” The tone of his voice leaves no room for argument… but then again, that’s never stopped her before. She steps closer too, more of a challenge than anything.

“Well if it’s not about that, what is it? What happened?” He turns away as if to leave and she reaches for him, fingers latching onto his wrist. She knows right away that when she tugs, and he turns, it’s because he let it happen; there’s no way anyone could force him to do anything now, not with how big he is, how strong, how solid beneath her hand. “Is it Sam? Did he get to you too?” 

“I was wrong about Sam. He’s helping me through it—just like he helped the others,” he says, but it sounds odd to her ears. If something was wrong, if he’d needed help, he would have come to her… right? “I can’t do this right now—you have to go. Please go.” 

Before, he was stern, but this time he’s pleading for her to leave, and that’s just not Jacob—they’d hash it out before he cut her off without so much as a word, instead of ghosting her and making his father lie for him and keeping secrets with Sam Uley.

“Jake,” she pleads too, but instead of tightening her grip on his wrist she brings her hand up to the nape of his neck, to brush through the short hair that lays there, drenched in rainwater. “Please don’t do this to me.” 

He closes his eyes like it pains him, and it very well might; she knows the similarities to the night Edward left are becoming almost too much for her to bear. 

Maybe that’s why she came here, after all, because she could, because at least she still knew where she could find him. Because even if he didn’t want to talk to her, at least she’d know he was okay. 

“I’m not doing this to you, I’m doing it for you. I’m not who you thought I was, I’m not good for you. You can’t be around me anymore.” 

Fuck that, she thinks immediately, because she is so absolutely tired of people telling her what she can and can’t do, what she’s strong enough for, what’s safe. 

She doesn’t want safe. All she wants is Jacob. 

“I decide what’s good for me; I decide,” she says, voice raised and rough, jabbing a finger in his direction, and he grabs both of her forearms and holds them between them. He looks like he wants to shake her, he’s so frustrated, but his grip isn’t tight. “You think you’re going to hurt me, or something? Because look at us, Jake.” Her gaze moves to his hands on her, holding her still but doing it gently, carefully. “It’s okay. You won’t hurt me, I know it.” 

He drops her arms like she’s burned him, like he didn’t even realize he was holding them, and takes two steps back, away from her.

“You’re right, I won’t—because you can’t ever come here again.” 

He turns and runs to Sam and the other guys, leaving her standing in the rain, soaked and alone, her stomach in knots. The chatter is back, the self-doubt, louder than ever now; if they could both do this, both leave her so easily, would she ever be enough for anyone?

She’s not sitting around her house moping about this, not again. She did that with Edward and it got her absolutely nowhere, so this time she resolves to just skip to the front of the line. She packs a bag for the trail and goes hiking, plans to take a long path deep into the woods, away from the bear attacks or whatever’s going on out there. Her dad would have her head if she walked headfirst into danger, and she knows better, anyway, isn’t going to actually risk her life just to get Rocky Mountain high. 

She hadn’t planned on risking her life, anyway, but how was she to know the formerly peaceful Laurent was back in Forks, red eyes and all, and that he was working with Victoria? That wasn’t on her supernatural drama bingo card, that’s for damn sure. 

She listens to him do the villain rambling for a moment, but irritation wins out over fear and she loses her temper, slips up and says that Edward is gone and he’s not coming back, and if he wants to kill her, well no one’s stopping him! 

He looks amused by her outburst, but the smile melts off of his face when an enormous black wolf steps out of the trees, followed by several others of all shades, shapes, sizes. She doesn’t get a chance to count them, just runs like hell in the other direction, but when she risks a look back they are going after Laurent with a precision she wouldn’t expect from wild animals just looking for dinner. 

She tells no one about the wolves—who would believe her anyway?—just runs back to her truck until she’s breathless, goes home and takes a steaming hot shower to rinse away the cold clamminess of his touch. She makes a cup of tea and changes into a t-shirt, a pair of shorts, then parks herself on the couch with her laptop for the rest of the night. 

Until the knock at the door that comes around 1 AM. 

It’s Jacob, and she’s so happy to see him that she forgets all about her day up until that point and wraps her arms around him, hugs him where he stands in the doorway. He hugs back, thank god, his embrace tight and warm and comforting, and then she ushers him in, offers to make more tea while they talk. 

“About the other day,” she begins, filling the electric kettle with water and plugging it in, but he cuts her off, panicked. 

“I wish I could explain,” he says, and he’s almost got those puppy dog eyes that always get him his way; he doesn’t even do it on purpose, just looks like that, and it’s incredibly hard to resist. “But I literally can’t.” 

“No, I know, I… I mean, I think I know.” She has a box of tea in her hand and she’s gesturing a bit wildly with it, so she sets it on the counter, walks closer to him, so there’s about a foot of space between them. “First rule of fight club is you can’t talk about fight club—wait, it’s not an actual fight club, right? Because you’d dominate.” 

He laughs, a real one, with his head thrown back, and she all but grins. There he is. Her Jacob. 

“No, it’s not a fight club, but you’re right. I can’t talk about it, I can’t tell you anything.” His tone of voice hurts her, because it’s clear this is something he wants, needs to share; she moves closer, eyes on his.

“And what if I guess? Is that against the rules?” He shakes his head fervently, rests his palm on the counter beside him.

“No, no—in fact, that’s exactly what I need you to do. Sam can’t stop you, and I know you, you’re smart, won’t stop until you figure it out.”  He reaches out with his other hand, tentatively, and links their fingers together like he did at the movies; when he brings their hands up to his chest, this time, she doesn’t pull away. “It would be so much easier if you knew.”

His face is so soft but so serious, his brow furrowed, and she squeezes his hand.

“I’m going to feel really silly if I’m wrong, but I don’t think I am. I’ve been working on it all night.” With her free hand, she pulls her phone out of her pocket, shows him the same screen she has up on her laptop in the other room. It’s a list of all the facts she has, her own speculation, and finally, in size 42 font, one very important eight-letter word. “You said before that Sam was collecting disciples—a pack of them, Jacob, right?” 

“Yes. Fuck,” he breathes, and though she’s heard him say it in the garage many times, this one is special because it means she’s right. He slides down to a seat on the tile floor, looks so relieved it makes her chest feel tight, and she kneels in front of him, hands on his bare shoulders. 

“You’re a werewolf, Jake, just like the legend—your tribe is descended from wolves. Tell me I’m wrong.” 

He doesn’t say a word, and at first she’s afraid she is incorrect, but then he reaches out and pulls her close, crushes her to his body. He breathes hard into her hair, holds her tightly, and she can’t help it, she cries, hot tears leaving tracks down her cheeks.

He brings his hands there after a moment, wipes the tears away with his thumbs, then holds her face like she’s something precious, lips turning up into a half-smile.

“Thank you. I knew you could do it.” He tips forward, presses their foreheads together, moves his hands to her waist. “You don’t know how badly I wanted you to know.”

“Oh, Jake. I’m sorry—I should have caught on faster. It’s obvious, when you put everything together, when you… You know. When you’ve seen what I’ve seen.” He nods his head and swallows, presses his fingertips into her side. She shifts closer, or he does, maybe they both do, so their breath mixes between them, soft and warm.

“It’s okay, you’re here now. You’re here, it's okay,” he repeats, and she pushes fingers through his hair, softer now that it’s dry. 

“I’m here, and I don’t have to stay away.”

They don’t quite kiss, because she’s still nervous, maybe even more so now—they were so close to being separated, and now that he’s back in her life, in her house, she doesn’t want to risk breaking this delicate, fragile thing between them. His mouth just brushes over hers, more a swipe than a press of lips, and she turns her head so the rest of it catches her cheek instead. 

He sighs, but he’s not upset, and he lifts a hand to smooth through her hair before dropping it altogether. 

“I should go,” he says, but she can’t bear the thought of losing him again already. She stands when he does, takes his hand the way he did before. 

“Can you stay the night? Please?” She squeezes his fingers, tries her hand at her own version of those sad puppy eyes. “I understand if you can’t, but I’d feel… I want you to,” she’s clear to say, and eventually, he nods. 

She makes up a bed for him on the sofa, intends to head upstairs when he’s comfortable; she doesn’t know what stops her, but she stretches out on the other end of the couch instead and they put on a movie, something black and white, volume low. She couldn’t say for sure who’s the first to fall asleep.

She’s the first to wake up, so she takes a quick shower, does some work, brews some coffee. He’ll probably head out the moment his feet hit the floor, so she prepares herself for that—she just hopes that the rest of his pack knows he’s there, that they aren’t worried, or frantically searching the preserve for signs of him like she would be. 

She asks him that when he pads into the kitchen an hour later, eyes sleepy, bedhead evident, and he pours a cup of coffee and sits across from her at the table. 

“Nah, they knew I was coming,” he assures with a sip. “They know by now that if they can’t find me, I’m probably here with you.” That makes her smile, though she looks down into her mug and tries not to show it. He takes a few more quick gulps despite the temperature and sets down his empty cup with a smack of his lips. “Speaking of the pack, I think you should meet them. We gather at Emily’s—that’s Sam’s fiancee—sometimes, and they’ll be there today.”

“Will they be angry that I figured it out?” she asks, genuinely curious. She wants to meet them, wants to know more about the group of guys Jacob is now supernaturally entangled with, but she’s not so sure a house of angry werewolves is somewhere she’s ready to be so soon after her last brush with death. He breathes a laugh and shakes his head. 

“They won’t be angry. They’ll probably be irritated with me, because I couldn’t just let you go…” Their eyes meet, and she thinks of reaching out to touch his hand across the table, though she doesn’t in the end. “But as for you, they’ll probably just be impressed.”

The pack is both impressed by her and slightly irritated with Jacob, but stern glances and eye rolls quickly turn to laughter and playful shoving, as they pile into Emily’s small but cozy kitchen and make introductions around a batch of fresh muffins.

She gets official confirmation on things she’d only read about—like their ability to hear each other’s thoughts when shifted, the accelerated healing, their speed, their power—right from the wolves' mouths, and they learn from her too, everything she knows about vampires like Laurent and Victoria. She doesn’t talk much about the Cullens, mostly because their secrets are not hers to tell, but she can see Jacob’s brain working as she mentions Victoria’s vendetta, as she shows the group the pale, silvery bite mark on her arm. 

“If she’s here, she’s here for me,” she tells them, and Jake tenses, his jaw tight, veins visible, shoots Sam a look that conveys they have a lot to talk about when she’s not around. 

Later, she suggests to Jacob that he take a walk with her, because she can tell how all of those stories have put him on edge. Together they amble slowly toward the beach, close but not touching, and this time she does take his hand, leans in so their forearms brush. 

“It’ll be okay,” she murmurs, tilting her head to look up at him. “You guys are strong, fast. You took down Laurent—I have no doubts you’ll get her too.” 

“Before she hurts you?” he says, staring ahead, voice rough because he’s been mostly silent all day, listening closely to her and taking everything in. “Because if she does…” 

“She won’t. The others are watching her,” she says, hoping like hell that’s still true, “and even if she finds me… I trust you to protect me.” He stops there, on the wet sand, and she turns toward him so she can see his expression, to get a better idea of what’s on his mind. 

“If they come back, I’m not allowed to fight on their land—I’d be breaking the treaty,” he says with a pained look. She understands the words he’s not saying: if they come back, I wouldn’t be able to protect you in your own home.

“They’re not coming back,” she whispers, because she can’t say the words any louder than that, even though they’re true.  “He made his choice, and that’s—that’s okay.” 

“Is it?” Jacob asks, leaning in, and she gets it, gets why; she hasn’t exactly been positive about Edward’s departure, how his choice affected her, took his family away from her too, and now suddenly she’s okay with it?

It isn’t sudden, though, not really. It’s been a gradual acceptance, something she’s been coming to terms with since the day he left. She knows Edward’s decision wasn’t made easily; she knows he didn’t leave because he didn’t love her, but because he loved her so much he put aside his feelings for her and did what he thought was right. 

He went about it all the wrong way, removing every trace of himself from her life, banning his family from communicating with her, taking her choices away, but in the end his heart was in the right place, and she’s found a way to respect that, despite everything. 

Maybe it’s just Jacob. He brought her out of her post-breakup shell, made her smile again, laugh again, feel important and wanted and cared for. Maybe he filled in the cracks of her broken heart so she could use it again, without the need for exhilaration and adrenaline to cover up the pain of what she’s lost; maybe it’s just Jacob, bright like the sun they so seldom see, special and rare and wild. 

“It’s okay,” she assures him, voice steady with her conviction. She raises their conjoined hands and presses her lips to his knuckles, just briefly, before dropping them back to her side. 

Jake nods, accepts her answer, and they walk further along the beach until the sun goes down in a hazy blend of blue and orange and red.

He offers to drive her home, and even though it’s impractical, and she’d usually put up a fight, she wants that extra time with him. Wants to be that close to him. She sits in the middle of the bench seat, neither up against him nor really on the passenger’s side, but close enough for Jake to throw an arm across her shoulders, and they listen to the radio and talk about his pack while cruising down the road. 

“I better go,” he murmurs before she can even unlock her front door, and she tries not to let her face fall; she’d been hoping he’d stay over again, or come inside for a little bit, at least. 

She must fail at controlling her expression, because Jacob smiles softly, like he’s pleased with himself, and leans in, brushing his fingers over the line of her jaw. 

“We’re patrolling tonight—got a vampire to kill. But I’ll call you tomorrow?” 

She nods beneath his touch, and he pulls back and turns to leave, jogging down the street and toward the forest that’ll lead him back to La Push.

He does call the next day, but it’s brief; Victoria’s back, just as Sam expected, so they’re running all night, all day, trying to catch her off guard, taking breaks only to eat and sleep when they absolutely have to. Jacob promises to check in when he can, but after three days with no contact—and a voicemail from her father about locals spotting wolves in the woods—she’s on edge again, less concerned for her own safety, more worried about Jake’s. 

She’s an absolute idiot for doing it—going to the beach, to the tall cliffs that loom over it—but she needs the rush again, doesn’t feel right when it’s just her own troubled voice in her head. She needs to hear the purr of an engine, the hum of a plane, the crashing of pure, white water against rocks… or maybe Jacob’s heartbeat. But the cliffs are the simple option at the moment, and all she can think about until she’s actually there, looking out over the ocean, the gritty scents of sand and salt in her nose. 

She takes several deep, long breaths. That’s the key to these things that bring her so much excitement—using all of her senses, so she’s not just herself but everything around her too. She needs to see the sun on the horizon, taste the spray of seawater and clean, crisp air. She needs to smell the damp earth, touch the frothy bubbles that lap at the shore, hear…

She hears a wolf, actually, howling solemnly in the distance, but doesn’t register the sound until after she’s already jumped. 

The waves are choppier than they’d appeared when she was looking down at them, and it knocks the breath out of her lungs when they crash into her body, pulling her down into the dark vastness of the icy sea. Her arms and legs move instinctively, fighting to bring her back to the surface, but the water is deep and heavy and she’s already so tired of trying. 

She’s so cold all she can feel is cold, her teeth chattering, so even when she hits her head on a boulder and it starts to bleed, she doesn’t realize what’s happened until everything turns black.

She’s warmer, suddenly, that’s all she knows, though the ground beneath her back is rocky and wet, uncomfortable. She thinks maybe it’s a blanket that feels so warm, but quickly realizes it’s Jacob above her, soaked to his bones, a sigh of relief passing his lips. 

“Oh thank god. Can you hear me?” He cradles the back of her head in his palm and helps her sit up, then presses his fingers tenderly to the sore bump beneath her hair. “Your head’s not that bad, but I bet it hurts.” 

“Hmm. Hurts,” she mumbles, her throat raw, temples throbbing. She’s cold and tired and thirsty, but ashamed above all else; maybe she really does need someone making the decisions for her, if this is the kind of stupidity she gets up to when she’s alone. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” he answers quickly, and he runs his hands over her arms and legs, her neck, her face, checking for further injury. “I’m just glad you’re alright. The waves are bad today; you could have been swept away.” 

“I didn’t realize that until it was too late,” she admits sheepishly, and when he brings her closer she rests her cheek against his chest, feels tears stinging her already tired eyes. “I’m sorry, Jacob.” 

“It’s okay, I’m here. It’s okay.” His voice is as soft as his hands as they curve around her, holding her against him, and they sit like that for a couple minutes, until Sam runs over and tells him to get her home. 

He drives again, but this time she’s even more grateful, because there’s no way she could have done it herself. She feels so much at once—dumb and scared and childish, but also brave and calm, while somehow her mind races with thoughts of the wolves howling and Jacob’s hands in her hair. Her focus is shot, and even though she’s wrapped in one of Jake’s thick, fleece lined hoodies, she trembles, heavy and cold, as she peers out the passenger side window, watching the trees go by.

“Hundred and eight degrees over here,” Jacob says eventually, with a half smile, and she blinks for a moment before giving in; with a sigh, she scoots closer, wraps an arm around his waist. She can feel the heat of his body even through the layers they wear, and she shivers involuntarily at the pleasant but abrupt change in temperature.

“You still want me this close? Not afraid the bad decisions will rub off onto you?” It’s a joke, a self-deprecating one, and an apology all bundled together. “What I did was stupid, I know. I could have gotten really hurt, and you should have been out there with the pack, with Harry, not saving me.” 

He tilts his head, leans closer so his cheek rests against her hair.

“Well it wasn’t smart, but we all have our moments. And you couldn’t have known about Harry—don’t be too hard on yourself.” A long beat of silence passes, and she turns toward him, pressing her icy nose to his neck with another sigh.

“Mmm. You’re so warm. It must be nice, never getting cold.” 

“It’s a wolf thing,” he says with a shrug, but it’s not, not really, and she can’t let that stand. 

“Maybe, but trust me, it’s a Jacob thing too. You’ve always been warm.” She just sits there, breathes him in, lets him warm her hands and nose, so content she almost doesn’t notice when he pulls up in front of her house.

“This is better. Now that you know about me,” he says, tipping his face down, after he turns off the truck. She pulls back just enough to look into his eyes, to try to gauge his intent.

“But?” He swallows hard, looks away for a moment before returning to her face.

“You saw what happened to Emily. Sam got angry, lost it for a split second, and Em was standing too close. He’ll never be able to take that back.” He shakes his head, as if imagining the two of them in the same situation. What he could do to her. What she would think of him. “What if I get mad and I hurt you?” 

“You’re new to this—even if you are a natural,” she says, remembering a comment Embry had made when they’d last spoken. “You’ll learn how to control it, how to read the warning signs, and you’ll either stop yourself from turning or get somewhere safe. We’ll be okay,” she promises, resting her hand soothingly against his neck, and he sighs softly.

“Sometimes, I feel like I’m gonna disappear. Like one day it will be all wolf and no Jake.” He leans in, close enough that their noses just barely brush, and the way he looks down at her is something like… 

Yearning, she thinks to herself after a beat. It’s a powerful emotion, but she’s never seen it look quite so beautiful before. 

“You’re not going to lose yourself. I won’t let that happen.” 

“How?” he asks, bringing a hand up to cover hers, and she wets her lips, shakes her head to clear it; it’s swimming again, in this small space, so very close to him—especially when he’s looking at her like that.

“I’ll tell you all the time… how special you are to me.” She looks up, feels like she’s showing her soul to him, like this incident has stripped her down to bare bones and she’s letting him see her, once and for all. He stares into her eyes for a long moment, then leans in slowly, tentatively, and this time she doesn’t stop herself from meeting him in the middle, from pressing her mouth to his. 

She can actually feel the relief wash over him when she doesn’t reject his kiss, like he’s been tightly coiled and tense and can finally relax because she wants the same things, feels the same way.

She expects his lips to be warm, soft, but he is scorching against her skin, even more so when he moves his hand to her cheek in a gentle caress. With the palm against his hip, she pushes up his t-shirt, gets her fingers on his body, and they both gasp softly into the kiss, deepen it. 

“Jacob,” she sighs when they part for air; he seems okay, if a little shaky, but she feels flushed, eager, almost vibrating with the need to keep kissing him. She wants more, even though her throat burns like the last time his lips touched hers, when he forced the water out of her lungs and saved her life. 

That’s what he does best, her Jacob—like a flicker in the dark, he always pulls her away from the dangers of her own making and brings her back into the light.

“Is this real?” he asks, his breath a ghost on her lips; his other hand, on her lower back, pulls her closer to his body, and she turns her head and kisses the palm resting on her cheek. 

They kiss again, hands a bit less careful, hers sliding up his back, his weaving into her hair to control the tilt of her head. She gives in to it all, lets him set the pace, gripping him like a life preserver and letting his heat warm her from the inside out. She feels like she can’t get possibly close enough, wants to be pressed skin to skin, but she settles for sliding into his lap, ducking her head so she doesn’t hit it on the metal roof of the truck. 

He groans as she twists fingers into his hair, as she pulls him into her and feels the long, hard line of his body against hers. She kisses faster, harder, and he matches her fervor, wraps an arm around her waist and catches her chin with tight fingers. 

They kiss for a long time, and the cabin heats, windows fogging up as they share breath and saliva, as they murmur each other’s names like prayer. Her lips are red and raw when she finally needs to pause, and she rests her head against his chest and listens to the thunderous, wild beating of his heart. 

“Will you stay the night? Please?” she asks, voice a little broken—rough with need, and soreness from nearly drowning, and breathlessness caused by the most intense kiss of her entire life. 

Jacob nods, and he sets her carefully back on the seat, removes the keys from the ignition and climbs out of the truck. She slides out behind him, and he closes the door, takes her hand in his just like she did on the beach.

He locks the front door behind them when they’re finally inside—as if that will stop anyone we need to worry about, she teases with a soft laugh—and she takes the lead, walks up the stairs toward her bedroom with Jacob trailing behind. 

Despite his surreal body heat and the thick, warm sweatshirt he’d given her to wear, she’s still cold down to her bones, and wet like a drowned rat, so she pulls off her shoes and socks and sets them down by the radiator. Jacob watches her every move from a couple steps away, eyes lingering as she shrugs out of his hoodie, then pulls her damp sweater over her head. 

There’s nothing sexy or seductive about it, it’s not a striptease by any means, but he doesn’t look away when she’s down to her bra, and she doesn’t want him to. He bends down to take off his boots, to line them up next to hers, then bridges the distance between them and leans in for a deep, slow kiss. 

It’s not long before they both sink down onto the bed, and her fingers slip open the button of her jeans, then hesitate, wait at the button of his. She looks up at him, and the confirmation is all but written there, in the darkness of his eyes, the swipe of his tongue over his lips, but she needs to be sure. 

“I want you, all of you,” she murmurs, and then she brushes a hand through his hair, leans in to just rest her mouth against his. It’s delicate like the first time, but full of meaning, and he presses up into her kiss. “Do you want this?” 

“I want this. You. All—all of you.” He nods, licks his lips again, eyes softer but no less hungry, and she flicks open the button and kisses him like she did in the truck: hands on his body, in his hair, her breath all his. 

They don’t part, not really, just fall back against the pillows and tug at clothing, pressing kisses to throats and palms. His t-shirt drops to the bedroom floor, then her jeans and underwear, his, and the room is quiet except for the sounds of eager, wet kisses and soft, needy moans. 

She sits up, reaches back to unclasp her bra, and Jacob drags the strap down her shoulder, helps her take it off, leaving it somewhere in the bed; his mouth moves to hers, then down her neck, over her collarbone, and finally caresses each nipple with a gentle reverence that makes her ache all over.  

“You’re still sure?” he asks when she is shaking beneath his touch, strong arms wrapped around her back, and she nods and shifts up into his lap. 

When their lips meet, the kiss is hard, and she curls an arm around his shoulders, weaving a hand into his hair. They’re both panting when she leans up, guides him inside her, and when she sinks down it’s like a flash of tingling heat takes over her entire body. 

Jacob groans, holding her securely, thrusting up as she works her thighs above him. They kiss, deep and messy, graceless but passionate, her fingers tugging, his pressing hard into her skin. 

It’s not at all how she’d expected her first time to be; she’d imagined it would be with Edward, of course, and slow, but she can’t get enough of Jacob and it seems like he can’t get enough of her either. She’d imagined a cool, pale body above her, but it’s Jacob’s deep, rich, hot skin she presses her lips to, her fingernails against. She’d expected Edward’s hard, marble arms around her, and while Jacob is strong and firm he’s still soft, skin slick with sweat as they move together. 

“Jake,” she murmurs, the taste of him on her lips, his scent in her nose, woodsy, clean. “Jacob.” Her body trembles and he holds her tighter, presses his face into her neck. 

“I’ve got you.” She sighs happily at that, grabs his hair more roughly, rides him faster. 

“You’ve got me. You’ve always got me.” 

Jacob looks up at her, eyes fiery, liquid, then pulls her in with a hand on the back of her neck and kisses her like the first time—soft, nervous, sweet. The juxtaposition of that gentle kiss and his possessive grip makes her dizzy, and when he pulls back his face is all she can see, all she wants to see, all she needs.

“I’ve always got you,” he promises, his gaze tender, unflinching. “Always.”

He’s got her when he comes, holding her tightly with one thick forearm and dragging his free hand over her breasts, then lower, to rub her clit as she bounces herself to climax in his grasp. “Oh, god,” she breathes, voice like a shiver, and her fingernails dig half-moons into his biceps as they both slow, slow, slow, then stop altogether.

He eases them both down against the bed, arms around her, their legs entwined, and they catch their breath, just look at each other until the exhaustion of the day catches up to her. Her eyes flutter closed, and pressed so close to him, so warm, all she can do is sleep.

When she wakes, it’s still mostly dark, and she desperately needs to clean up in the bathroom and get a glass of water. Jacob’s t-shirt is the first piece of clothing she sees—or the first she wants to see—and she pulls it over her head and pads to the bathroom for a human moment—a very human moment indeed. 

She pauses, while washing her hands, to look over her reflection in the mirror. Rationally, she knows nothing has really changed, but at the same time everything has. 

The bathroom water is never cold enough to drink, so she treads down the stairs, across the kitchen, turns on the tap and lets it run until the water is icy and crisp. She fills a glass, takes a couple of sips, then almost drops it when a cool hand is suddenly pressed to her shoulder. 

It’s Alice, and she uses her other hand to catch the glass before it can hit the floor and shatter. 

“Relax. It’s just me.” Her eyes are soft, and it’s clear she is happy to see her, but there’s something else in her expression, something inquisitive. “You’re alright.”

“I’m fine. I’m… good, actually.” She shrugs, which bares her shoulder, in the large t-shirt she wears, that she’d forgotten she was wearing. She freezes—she knows how she must smell to Alice, like Jacob and like… Jacob—but her friend just shakes her head. 

“I couldn’t see you; well, I saw you jump off a cliff, and then you were gone. I thought you died.” 

“Alive and well,” she says with a tone that’s hoping for lighthearted, but… 

She has no regrets about being with Jacob, not one—she just hadn’t expected to be confronted with a vampire she once considered a sister almost immediately after. She doesn’t know what to say right now, how to act. Who to be.

“I was cliff jumping, recreationally. It was fun... for a minute.” Alice rolls her eyes, but it’s clear she’s happy she’s unharmed—though perhaps irritated by her tendency toward life-threatening idiocy.

“That doesn’t explain why I couldn’t see you, why your whole future went black.” Her golden eyes stare seriously, unblinking for a moment, and then she looks away. “Though maybe I owe that to the wolf in your bed.” 

Of all the nights for Alice to come back to Forks, she thinks, a suddenly uncomfortable pit in her stomach. Then she hears footsteps on the stairs.

“Not in her bed anymore,” Jacob says, voice low, from the doorway to the kitchen; he takes half a step forward, an aborted move, like he wants to put himself in between them. 

“This is Alice, Edward’s sister. Alice, this is Jacob,” she explains, trying not to focus on his shirtless torso, or the pained expression on his face. She blows out a deep breath. “It’s okay. She won’t hurt me.” 

“She’s hurt you before,” he counters, no doubt remembering every heartbroken, aching expression she’d worn in the months prior. He takes a step closer, so he is next to her, his forearm grazing hers, and Alice takes a step back. “I’d like to stick around, if it’s all the same to you.” 

He’s posturing, that much is clear, but she can't find it in herself to be irritated, because at least he’s giving her the option, letting her choose.

“I thought you couldn’t protect me here,” she says, turning her face up to look at him, and Jacob’s response makes heat pool low in her belly, just like the night before. 

“There is nowhere in this world I won’t protect you—treaty or no treaty.” 

She wants so badly to kiss him, but Alice is there, Alice, right in front of her after all this time, and she’s conflicted. Torn. He can tell, she knows, but he doesn’t take it personally, just reaches up to scratch his head, sighs. 

“So are more of you coming? Is–is he…?” 

“I came alone. And no,” Alice replies after a moment, but she’s looking at her instead, probably knows that he’s just saying what she’s too worried to ask. “He only calls in once every few months. Says he wants to be alone.” Jacob scoffs.

“Great. He wants to be alone, so you all leave her behind, unprotected? That red headed vampire is after her because of him.” 

That gets a reaction out of Alice, whose eyes darken protectively.

“Who, Victoria? I haven’t seen her.” She stares off into the distance, like she’s searching for memories, visions, sifting through what she’s seen and trying to piece together what she hasn’t. “Just like I didn’t see you get pulled out of the water. There’s a lot I haven’t seen, apparently,” she adds under her breath, and the other girl presses her lips together, sighs. 

Not the time or place for this discussion, and they both know it, but that doesn’t mean it’s avoidable for long. 

“So you can’t see around Jacob. The wolves,” she guesses. “I’ve been with them a lot lately.”

“With him a lot lately,” Alice corrects. Jacob huffs, but it’s not untrue, so she lets her think what she wants. Her silence must speak volumes, because Alice takes a deep, wholly unnecessary breath, and gestures toward the door. “Should I go?” 

“Please don’t,” she says quickly, nearly begging. It’s the first she’s seen of Alice in almost a year and she cannot let her leave as abruptly as she’d shown up. “If you could just give us a minute…” 

“Take two,” the vampire says, and it’s with a half-smile that turns into a smirk. “I’ll go Febreze the living room while I wait: it smells like wet dog.” She turns to leave, a bounce in her step that the other girl can’t help laughing at, shaking her head. 

She sobers up when Jacob turns toward her, takes a step that moves the both of them, so her back is pressed up against the kitchen counter. He looks so serious, and her heart beats for him everywhere. 

“Do you believe her? When she says she came alone?” he asks, and she tilts her head, nods softly. 

“Of course I believe her. She just had to make sure I was okay, that’s all. There’s… there’s nothing for them here.” 

Even as she says the words, she hopes they’re not true—hopes that, even if they really aren’t meant to be together, that she and Edward, she and the Cullens, can still be… Friends isn’t really a strong enough word, but she wants them in her life, potential bloody accidents be damned. 

“So if he came back,” Jacob says, leaning in closer, his lips hovering over hers, “you wouldn’t go to him?” His tone is light, but she understands the weight of his question, takes a moment to find the right words to answer it. 

“If he came back, I’d want to see him. Just like I want to see Alice.” She reaches out to touch him, his warm, bare skin, places her palm over his thumping heart. “But I wouldn’t go to him. Not like this.” 

It’s true, and she wants to say more, to promise him, reassure him, but just after she says it, the landline rings. Jacob sighs, his breath on her cheek, and reaches out a hand to answer it. “Hello?” The person on the other end speaks in a low tone she can’t make out, but she can see the tick in Jacob’s jaw, a hard set to his eyes. “He isn’t here right now, but that’s not who you really want, is it?” 

There’s another moment of conversation she can’t hear, and Alice walks into the room looking stunned; Jacob hands the other girl the receiver, and she looks from him to Alice and then speaks into the phone. “Hello?” 

“You’re alright.” 

It’s Edward, his voice cool and smooth but thick with emotion. It makes butterflies flutter around in her stomach, just like it used to. 

“I’m alright.” She doesn’t give him more than he asks for, doesn’t take more than he offers. She’s aware of two sets of eyes on her, feels more nervous than before, in her oversized t-shirt and sleep-mussed hair.

She’s glad he can’t see her and wonders exactly what that means.

“Good. Rosalie said Alice had a vision…” He trails off, but they both know what he’s not saying: everyone thought she’d given up and killed herself. She crosses her arms.

“The vision was incomplete. I’m fine. Stupid, but fine.” Edward huffs a laugh down the line, and she can imagine the exact cant of his mouth, the glimmer in his eye that always seemed to be reserved for her.

“You are many things, but stupid is not one of them.” There’s more he wants to say, she can tell; as a man of few words, many of their conversations were punctuated with heavy, meaningful silence. Part of her wishes she could see his face, at least. That always helped. “Who answered the phone? Jacob?”

She looks up at him involuntarily, notes the tightness of his mouth, his arms folded in front of his bare chest. 

“Yes, Jacob. He’s the one who pulled me out of the water, the one Alice didn’t see.” 

“Hmm. He still doesn’t seem to like me much.” Her lips turn up at that—understatement of the century—and she wonders if Jake can hear him too. Based on the stoic expression he wears, he either can’t, or he’s not paying attention. 

“No he does not.” A beat passes, then two. “You should call your family more often, go see them. They miss you.” 

“It’s difficult,” he says, swallowing, and she nods at no one. 

“I know, but don’t punish them. Please.” She knows how it feels, to be totally cut off from people she loves, to constantly wonder, always fear the worst; she doesn’t say it because she knows he knows.

“I’ll consider it, if you don’t go jumping off those cliffs any time soon.” She laughs softly, surprised at his humor; this was not how she would have ever anticipated a call like this to go, but she likes it. Likes them, like this. 

“Deal. Alice is looking at me like she’s going to steal the phone any moment,” she warns, which is putting it mildly. “So I’m going to put her on. You can call when it’s not life or death, you know,” she adds quietly. “It would be nice to hear from you. If you ever want to talk.” 

She doesn’t know if he responds, because Alice takes the receiver, winds the cord around her arm, and scolds her brother with love in the way only a sister can manage. 

While they talk, she walks toward Jacob, then past him, toward the staircase, but she takes hold of his hand as she goes, and he follows just like the night before. This time, he closes the bedroom door behind them. 

“I’m sorry this happened like this,” she says, sitting down on the bed, one leg beneath her and the other hanging over the edge. “I’m not sorry Alice is here, but I’m sorry that’s what you woke up to. If you were… worried.” Jacob takes the space next to her atop the rumpled duvet. 

“I was worried when I smelled a bloodsu- vampire,” he corrects quickly, “and you weren’t beside me.”

“I’m sorry,” she says again, this time leaning closer. “But thank you for giving me the phone, letting me talk to him. I’m sure that wasn’t easy.” He shrugs, like it was no big deal, even though she remembers how angry he’d looked at the sound of Edward’s voice. 

“I almost didn’t. I mean, technically, he didn’t ask for you.” She rolls her eyes—definitely guy logic—then stands up, scoops his jeans off the floor and hands them over to him. Her face heats at the memory of removing them in the first place, but she snaps out of that for her own sake and grabs fresh clothes, steps into the bathroom to make herself presentable.

When she’s done, she heads back to her bedroom, where Jacob is now clad in jeans and boots, sitting shirtless on her bed. She deposits the borrowed t-shirt onto his lap, and when he thinks she’s not looking he brings it to his nose, inhales long and slow, before pulling it over his head.

That action does things to her, and she wishes for a moment that she had his senses, so she could smell the two of them the same way he does, their scents deeply saturated and blended together.

They head downstairs when they’re both dressed, and while he rummages in the refrigerator for something to make them for breakfast, she treads into the living room and sits down next to Alice on the couch. 

“So,” Alice says, and then she gestures to a cup of tea. The other girl picks up the mug and thanks her, brings it to her lips. “How long has that been going on?” 

She feels her cheeks heat, and she hides behind another sip of tea. 

“Really? I haven’t seen you in almost a year and that’s what you want to talk about?” 

“Oh, forgive me for being curious about what it’s like to date a werewolf when last I saw you were grieving the loss of my brother.” Alice’s tone is more playful than it would seem, and her eyes smile even if her lips don’t. 

She always knew that Edward wasn’t telling the truth when he said he didn’t want her. He just couldn’t bear it, knowing that being with him put her in so much danger, caused her so much pain. She knew it was worth it, but if he didn’t… there’s nothing she could have done to change his mind, she knows that now. She can’t feel guilty for moving on when it’s exactly what he’d wanted her to do in the first place. 

“Okay, you’re right. Let’s talk about how I’m going to comb the woods, find Victoria, and rip her into confetti for threatening to hurt you.” 

“You don’t have to do that,” Jacob says, walking into the room with… a cup of tea. He looks over at the mug in her hand, then sets the one he brought her down on the table without a word. “The pack’s got it covered.” 

“All due respect, but if the pack had it covered, she wouldn’t be a threat anymore, would she?” Alice tosses over her shoulder. The other girl sets her tea down and sighs. 

“Alright, can we not do this? The age-old vampires versus werewolves thing? Especially if I’m in the middle of it. Maybe you guys could work together for a change; Alice can’t protect this part of the territory all by herself.” She picks up her drink—a drink, the one Jacob made, this time—and takes a long sip, looks up at them over the rim of the mug. 

“The pack could help, if you give us the authority to amend the treaty,” Jacob says to Alice, though he’s kind of looking at the ceiling, his arms crossed. “But wherever she is, I’ll be.” 

“You can’t be with her every second,” Alice counters, and her exasperation makes it  sound like an argument she’s had before. “It’s not good for either of you and could put her in danger; if Victoria picks up on it, she’ll be able to use your scent to track her anywhere. Trust me, yours is a lot stronger than hers is, and it’s all over her.” 

She thinks Jacob makes some kind of noise, like a low growl in the very back of his throat, but it’s hard to hear. Alice raises her eyebrows like she’s trying not to roll her eyes. 

The three of them discuss potential ways to coordinate with the pack, and Alice mentions calling in Emmett and Jasper to see if they could help with the search; the sooner Victoria is gone, the better, is the general consensus, and Jacob thinks he can get Sam on board with that as well, even if it means more Cullens coming back to town. 

She finishes both cups of tea, then a plate of eggs and toast Jacob put together from the bare-bones contents of her kitchen—she reminds herself to make a shopping list, then absently wonders if she’ll have a grand escort to Trader Joe’s. 

“I’ll make some calls while you’re gone,” Alice says as she is taking her last bite; she looks up from her plate, confused, and Alice waves a hand. “I saw a glimpse of you at the grocery store, but then it went dark; I assume that means he’s going with you.”

“I thought about it for a split second, as a joke,” she clarifies with a huff of laughter. “I don’t think I need a bodyguard in the produce aisle at eight AM.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Alice and Jacob say, at the same time, and her lips twitch in amusement. 

Looks like they’re not so different, in the end.

She gives in and allows Jacob to drive her to the supermarket, though not without a long look from Alice as he walks her to the truck with his hand on the small of her back. 

They breeze through the store thanks to the list in her head—she buys a little more than she usually would, because it seems like Jacob plans to be around. She likes the thought of that even more than she’d expected, likes choosing things solely because she knows he’ll enjoy them.

“I think we should talk about last night,” Jacob says, voice low, when they’re nearly back to her house. She cringes internally, because that’s never a sentence a girl wants to hear after a night like that, and he clears his throat. “I know cliff jumping ended up being kind of traumatic for you, and it didn’t feel like it last night, but if I took advantage…”

He looks over at her, his expression pained, and she shifts closer and wraps her hand around his forearm.

“God, no, Jake—that’s not what happened.” He brings the truck to a stop in her driveway, puts it in park, and she presses her palm to his cheek so he’ll focus on her instead of fixing his gaze out the window. “I wanted everything, every moment. I still want it,” she murmurs, and he looks over her face like he’s still not quite sure he believes it.

“You do? Even after… after you spoke to him, and everything?” It’s a fair question, and again, one she answers very carefully.

“I think we needed to talk, he and I, but it didn’t change anything. You’re the one who changed everything,” she admits softly, tentatively, wetting her lips. She hopes her eyes convey the certainty her voice can’t seem to. “Do you want to kiss me?” she breathes, leaning closer, her fingers winding a path through his hair, and he nods his head and presses his mouth to hers. 

She gets up on her knees so she can be closer to him, but she doesn’t climb into his lap like before—she does have some self-restraint, despite what it may seem. She curls one arm around the muscles of his back, pulls him in for more contact with the hand in his hair, and it’s a few minutes later when she remembers they’ve got bags of perishable groceries in the back and a vampire with excellent acoustic abilities just inside her home. 

She pulls back, smiles a little at the soft, unfocused look on his face, then runs her hand down his chest before lifting it away entirely.

“I know we’re kind of at DEFCON 1 right now, but more of that a little later would be nice.” 

“Hmm. Very nice,” he agrees with a nod, his voice slightly rough, and he turns off the ignition and carries all of her groceries into the kitchen with one strong arm. 

Emmett and Jasper do come back, with Rosalie and Esme, to her delight and Jacob’s discomfort. Between the pack, who comes to get the vampires’ scents so there’s no friendly fire, and the family, who split time between her house and the one they left behind, the place is a revolving door of the supernatural for the next few days. 

All of them take turns watching over her house at night, while the others patrol the woods. She catches up with everyone she’s been separated from—even Jasper gives her a crushing hug, so at least the time away was good for something—and it’s wonderful, but it means there’s not much time to be with Jacob aside from planning sessions and the occasional quick check in. The most time she spends with him is when they attend Harry’s funeral, something somber and intimate, with ethereal music and a glowing campfire and endless stories about the Clearwater line. 

She is introduced to Leah and Seth, Harry’s children, and while Seth seems welcoming and friendly his sister is cold, standoffish—though not without reason, she soon learns from the pack. 

“She’s not always like that… mostly just when she’s around Sam,” Embry says where they stand on the edge of the forest, away from the thick smoke that burns her very human eyes. She looks over at the pack leader at the mention of his name. “Now that she’s part of the pack, we have to live the Leah/Sam/Emily painfest all over again.” 

She turns back to him, to Quil, who’s standing beside him, and tilts her head, curious.

“I don’t think I follow—Sam left Leah for Emily?”

“Well, yeah, but it’s not what you think. He hates himself for hurting her, but he couldn’t help it. Emily was ‘the one.’” Quil says it almost sarcastically, with air quotes for emphasis, and she frowns.

“The one?” She doesn’t mean to sound skeptical, but these days she’s not as big a fan of providence and destiny as she used to be.

“Sam imprinted on Emily. It’s kind of like… soulmates, but bigger. Cosmic. They were literally meant to be together.”

“Like fate,” she says, filling in that blank, and then a large, warm hand is splayed across her back, fingertips pressing into the fabric of her dress. 

“We make our own fate around here,” Jacob says tightly, and she looks up, regards him curiously. He’s not just upset about Harry, or Victoria… there’s got to be something else making his jaw tense, his eyes hard. “And I think that’s more than enough of the pack soap opera for tonight. Are you ready to go home?” 

He turns his gaze to her, and it softens, for which she is grateful; he is her guardian on duty tonight, and despite the solemn evening—or maybe because of it—she wants to spend the night as close to him as she possibly can.

She nods, and after they say their goodbyes he walks her to the truck, opens the door for her, closing it carefully when she’s safely inside. He takes the spot behind the driver’s seat—his usual, now—but doesn’t drive straight to her house like she expects. 

“Ice cream?” she asks when he turns off the engine outside of a mom and pop shop selling sundaes, cones, and shakes. She exits the car at his indication, and the two of them walk hand in hand up to the illuminated window that says Order Here. An older couple is ahead of them, pointing at the chalk menu board, and Jacob leans in to speak in a hushed tone. 

“This place was Harry’s favorite. You like chocolate, right?” 

“Has anyone ever answered ‘no’ to that question?” she asks softly, playfully, and it works as intended, lightens the mood just enough to bring a brilliant smile to his painfully beautiful face. “I think this is a wonderful way to remember him, Jake.” She wraps a comforting arm around his, and Jacob nods, lips pressed together, eyes sad.

“Just kind of feels right.” 

He orders for them when it’s their turn, two waffle cones with two scoops of chocolate ice cream each, and they sit at a picnic table on the side of the building, eating their tributes with heavy hearts and looking up at the stars.

The ride home is quiet, contemplative, at least for her; by the time they arrive she has been running through thoughts of mortality, finality, how short life is and how very precious. 

These are all normal thoughts for a person to have, and certainly after a celebration of life like the one on the reservation tonight, but she thinks seriously for the first time about Jacob and his desperate need to protect her, the way he puts himself in danger—stupidly, recklessly, completely—every day to keep her safe.

When they’ve made it inside, she exhales deeply, looks up into earnest, curious eyes, and wraps her arms around him, presses close so she can bury her nose in his clothing.

She breathes him in long and slow, his usual scent of crisp air and rain and oak dulled by the smoke of the bonfire, and then his hands are in her hair, tipping her face up for a decadent, passionate kiss. 

God, how is he so good at this? she thinks as he sips at her lips, glides his own down the tender line of her throat. She sighs and grabs for his arms, something to ground her as her desire threatens to take over, to leave her a whimpering, begging mess beneath his hands. 

Jacob turns them so she’s got her back to the kitchen table, sets her on top of it, and she parts her knees for him, pulls him closer. Her fingers itch with the need to touch his skin, so she tugs at the hem of his shirt and gets her hands beneath it, skims them over the taut muscles of his bare back. 

“I can take it off,” he murmurs against her neck, and she nods breathlessly and helps him pull it over his head. His hands bracket her hips, palms flat on the table, and her arms curve up around his back, bringing him closer; she kisses him eagerly anywhere she can reach—his throat, shoulders, face, everywhere.

She whispers his name into his own skin, presses her lips to his biceps, scrapes her teeth over the lobe of his ear, and he shudders at her touch, tilts his head to look up at her, his eyes dark and almost… dangerous.

What does it say about her, that she finds that look so goddamn attractive?

“I’m sorry, I—I need a minute,” he says, panting through gritted teeth, and she lets her hands fall away, leaning back a little to give him space to breathe.

“Take all the time you need,” she assures him calmly, patiently. It’s the first time she’s ever seen his wolf so close to the surface, and she’s completely unafraid, would hold him and help him ride out the tension in his body if she thought he would let her. “It’s just us, Jake, just me and you.” 

“Just us,” he repeats, his fists clenching and unclenching, taking a long breath with his eyes closed. She breathes with him, has always found that helpful when she herself is overwhelmed, and after a few moments he presses closer and she runs a soothing hand over his chest. “I’m okay,” he says eventually, leaning in slowly for a kiss as though he’s afraid it will be rejected. She brings her hands to his face, deepens it, so it’s still soft and easy but with enough meaning behind it to convey her thoughts. 

“I know,” she murmurs, just to be certain he believes her. “You did so good; so good, Jake.” He nods, pulls back a little so he can look into her eyes. 

“It’s not that I can’t control it, I can, but…” He looks away for a moment, swipes his tongue over his lips. “The instincts are so strong and I don’t always want to fight them. Sometimes when I’m with you, I want to let the wolf win.” He says it like he’s ashamed, and she puts her arm around his shoulders and brings him down for another kiss, this one just a gentle press of mouths.

“I understand that more than you think I do.” His breath on her lips makes her crave more of his heat, but she knows it has to be slow now, or he’ll get too in his head and never let himself enjoy their night together. “I may not be supernaturally inclined, but sometimes making decisions with my body is all I want to do. Especially with you,” she adds, just a sigh between them, then touches their foreheads together. 

They stay like that for a moment, embracing in their own way, until he initiates a kiss that is so thorough it makes her toes curl. She brings her hands to his waist, guides him closer, and he rests a broad palm at the base of her throat and kisses her, again, and again, and again. 

Her arms curl around his body the second they separate for air, and he lifts her from the table, carries her up the stairs with an ease that makes her long for more frequent displays of his strength. 

Getting his clothes off is quick enough, since he’s already shirtless, and his hands are tender and gentle as he sweeps her hair away from her neck, pulls down the zipper of her dress, slides it off her bare shoulders. 

Neither of them bother to pull back the covers, simply lay back on the bed, her knees apart again, Jacob hovering between them and letting his eyes move over her like he’s committing her body to memory. It makes a wave of heat rush through her, and since tonight is less hurried she does the same, lingers over every curve of muscle, every sharp line of bone. He leans in, lays an arm behind her head, glides his lips over her jaw, her cheek, her mouth.

“I was right, before,” she says after another satisfying kiss, letting her fingers press into the flesh of his hips. He looks into her eyes, tilts his head curiously, and she smiles a little, can’t help herself. “You really are beautiful.” 

Jake breathes a laugh, even blushes a little, then kisses her until they’re both panting; her fingertips press harder when he pushes inside, then glide up his back to keep him close while the two of them move together. 

Jacob feels so different this way, is so much deeper, filling her in a way that makes it so she really can’t tell where she ends and he begins. He is heavy on top of her, but not uncomfortably so, and when her body shifts up the bed with every thrust it’s thrilling, incredible—she’s never felt so much in her life.

His face is serious, eyes focused, and she weaves her fingers into his hair and catches his lips in a kiss, moans into the end of it when he finds a spot inside of her that takes her breath away. 

“Oh, god, Jake.” He leans in for another kiss, deep and wet, nods against her lips. 

“You’re perfect—so perfect,” he huffs, breathless; he moves his hand to her hip, runs it over her stomach, then presses his palms to the bed and repeats his previous motion, over and over, her body coiling tight with pleasure. “Can’t believe I get this.” 

“We get this,” she corrects in a whisper, won’t let him think for one second that she’s not as completely in awe of him as he seems to be of her. She skims her nails over his lower back, his ass, tightens her thighs on either side of him and tips her head back just as he makes her come. “Don’t stop, Jake, please,” she whines, shaking, holding him so tightly with her entire body—she never wants it to end, never wants to be separated from him again, and he agrees, if the way his body presses down on hers is any indication. 

“Can’t stop… need you,” he groans, pushing her leg up further, so he feels almost impossibly thick and deep. Her arms wrap around his back, pulling him closer, holding him there as he ruts into her, scorching flesh pressed against flesh. 

“Yes, oh—”

Before she knows it she’s quaking again, gasping when he brings his teeth to her throat, scrapes them over her throbbing pulse. He growls in her ear, a deep, low, animalistic rumble she can feel in her stomach, then comes inside, claiming her with a broken, raspy, “mine.”

He lays half on top of her, half on the bed, after, their skin soft and damp with cooling sweat. She can’t stop looking at his face, his dark eyes, sharp jaw, and he cups her cheek with a gentle palm and gazes just as intently at her. 

“Come here,” she murmurs, a soft smile on her lips, and he kisses her slowly, makes her sigh with a pleasure so complete—mentally, physically, spiritually—it feels like she’ll never be the same. 

He gets up after a moment, comes back with a glass of water and a towel, and helps her clean up well enough to hold her over until she’s ready to get out of bed. She pulls the covers back while he’s gone, slides in between the cool sheets, and he follows her lead, pressing close to her beneath them.

“Are you upset you didn’t imprint on me?” she asks carefully, propping herself up on her elbow and using the other hand to run fingers through his hair. “I noticed that when the guys were talking about it, you got kind of tense.” He shrugs slightly before shaking his head.

“No, not upset… I was just so sure you were meant for me; I really thought it would happen sooner or later.” She understands that, can picture him wishing and waiting for something that would never come to pass. So patient, her Jacob.

“Do you wish it had? Do you think it would make this more real?” Her hand moves from his hair to his collarbone, down his chest, over his stomach, so very low. “Because when I’m touching you like this… nothing has ever felt so real.” 

He presses her against the bed, hovers over her, kisses her breathless, and it goes without saying that he agrees with every word she says. She softens beneath him, tired and pleased, and he shifts into a more comfortable position, laying behind her, that she knows means sleep for the both of them. He drapes an arm over her, and she draws circles into his skin with her fingertips, feels his warm breath on her neck, closes her eyes and revels in the weight of him at her back.

“Anyway,” she whispers, one last thought on her mind before she succumbs to sleep, “I almost think it’s better like this, that we have to fight for each other. No help from fate—just your will and mine.”

A/N: I got my start in fandom spaces by writing Twilight fanfic fifteen years ago, but I never posted it because it was... bad. Last week was a crummy week for me, so I found comfort in watching New Moon, and I literally couldn't help myself from re-writing it in Jacob's favor. There's no Edward hate here, and he'll play a bigger role in the next part I have planned, but Jake took hold of me in this one and didn't let go.

[ereardon]

Homecoming [Jake Seresin x Reader] Chapter 2

Summary: Returning home to California after six years abroad in England, you found everything has changed. Jake Seresin, your father's former college roommate and lifelong best friend, is now a widower and has purchased a new vineyard in Montecito, only a few miles from your childhood home. Your parents’ marriage is on the rocks, your brother is struggling with what to do with his life, and you’ve grown up and are starting your own counseling practice. So what happens when you find yourself falling for the man your father calls his best friend? And worse, what happens when your parents find out he’s falling for you, too? 

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader

Warnings: Age gap, eventual smut, cursing, alcohol

Word count: 2.2 K

Chapter overview: Y/N starts her first day at work at Jake's vineyard

Author's note: This fic references a significant age gap, as reader is the child of Jake's best friend. However, she's in her mid-twenties, and he's been only a small part of her life to this point as he spent the majority of his time traveling with his late wife. This fic does not depict grooming, but if you are concerned with any of the themes please read at your own risk.

Masterlist here

Colin, despite being eleven months and five days older than you, was your first patient. Although neither of you realized it at the time.

You remembered it clearly. The two of you sitting on the edge of the pool, toes swinging in the water, the sun glinting off the surface and bursting into a million shards of light across the tile bottom. 

“I’m mad,” he said. 

You looked over but his eyes were trained on his feet, thrashing in the chlorinated pool. “Why?” you asked. 

He shrugged. “I don’t know.” 

“Is it because of mom?” you asked. Another head shake. “Is it dad?” There was a pause. You sensed a shift in his demeanor, even at eight years old. You pushed. “He thinks you’ll like it. Make friends.” 

Colin turned to you, his shaggy hair covering one eye. “I have friends.” 

“I don’t count.” 

“You might like it,” you whispered. “Camp is fun.” 

“Cowboy camp,” he replied, frowning. 

“Horses are cool.” 

“You think that because you’re a girl.” 

Your eyebrows knitted together. “At least dad is letting you go to camp.” You pulled your legs out of the water. “He won’t even let me out of his sight.” 

Colin’s small shoulders sagged. “That’s because he loves you more.” 

Your mouth dropped open, but nothing came out. Just air, filling your lungs, mounting so much pressure in your chest you were scared to let it out, lest you collapse. Colin’s back stayed turned away from you. 

And then it was over. And you went inside, wet legs sticking to the edges of your capri pants. 

***

“What do I wear?” you asked your mom, standing in front of your open closet. Everything in it felt wrong. The dresses you wore to the nightclubs in Berlin, the jeans that spent nights at the pub, your old high school wardrobe that was seriously dated. God, you needed new clothes. Something that said young professional, but not in a sad way.

“I have no idea, dear.” Your mother picked up a lace thong that you had tossed on the bed and frowned. “I’ve never been to the vineyard.” 

“What?” You swiveled around. “You’re kidding.” 

“Your father is the one who goes,” she replied with a shrug. “He and Jake have always been closer.” 

It was true. Jake and your father had been college roommates at USC, randomly paired together freshman year. They couldn’t have been more different, but somehow they made it work. 

You grabbed a blue dress with a tie in the middle and turned back toward your mother. There was something about her gaze, the way she was looking out the window. “Mom?” you asked. “Everything OK?” 

“Of course,” she replied instantly, but her voice caught at the end, a small lift that set off a warning sign in the back of your brain. 

You frowned. “Alright. Well, I’ll see you guys tonight at dinner?” 

She stood up, smoothing her hands over her linen pants. “Have a good first day.” 

You turned toward the mirror, angling the dress over your body before tossing it on the bed. You couldn’t afford to fuck this up. It wasn’t just that you owed it to Jake. You owed it to yourself to show up and prove that you could be successful outside of an academic environment. 

***

Thirty minutes later, you stepped through the vineyard doors. The sound of your heeled boots echoed in the vast entryway. “Jake?” 

“Sparky.” Jake appeared from your left, wiping his hands on a towel that he then slung over his shoulder. You breathed a sigh of relief. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a loosely buttoned shirt, a pair of loafers rounding out the look. You sent up a silent prayer that you had also worn jeans, albeit a tight pair with a slight flare, and a silk sleeveless turtleneck. “Ready to meet the crew?” 

You nodded. Jake spent the next hour introducing you to everyone, from the waitstaff for the tasting room to the food engineers helping to bottle and test the wine, and the farmer he had on staff to cultivate the small garden where they grew fresh vegetables to include in charcuterie plates. 

“Your job is to be the puppet master,” Jake said as the two of you emerged back onto the main floor. “There’s two hostesses. If they’re both gone, you can man the front table. At the end of the day, you and I will sit down and look at the books and go over how things went and where we need to make changes.” 

A silent scream rose in your throat. This was too laissez faire for your taste. You needed rules, regime. 

Jake grinned, putting one hand on your upper arm. His touch was warm, inviting. Once again, you looked down at his bare ring finger and felt a longing for Jenny. “You’ll do great,” he said. “Trust me, you’ll know what to do. It’s intuitive.” 

“Where will you be?” you asked. “If I need you.” 

“You won’t need me,” Jake asserted. “But if you do, I’m around.” 

“Helpful.” 

Jake raised an eyebrow. “Is that how you talk to all your bosses?” 

You flushed. “Oh my God, I’m sorry, I didn’t even–”

He laughed. “It’s OK, Y/N. I know it’s a weird dynamic, because we know each other. I don’t expect you to call me Mr. Seresin or anything like that. I trust you, and that’s why I’m giving you free reign of the place.” 

The blush was still inching down your neck. You nodded, gulping. Jake reached out, squeezing your upper arm gently. “I’ll be in my office, alright?” 

Jake disappeared down the staircase and you swiveled around, nerves worming their way through your body. Just as you were about to flee into a corner, the doors swung open and a young couple stepped up to the podium. 

“Hi, we’re the Kellers,” the woman said. “We had a one o’clock reservation?” 

Jake and Amy, the host, had shown you how to use the tablet. Your fingers shook as you pressed buttons on the screen, pulling up the reservation, a sigh of relief bubbling in your throat as you found their names. Ethan and Whitney Keller. 

They sounded as white as they looked. 

You looked up, smiling. “Of course, Mr. and Mrs. Keller. If you’ll please follow me.” 

Jake had been right. A part of you cursed him a little. It came naturally. Floating around, asking people how they were, chatting lightly about the wine. All those years in Europe had done nothing if not given you a taste for alcohol. 

Plus, you liked talking to people. You always had. You listened and gave them thoughtful responses. You could read people – if there was tension, if someone in a group felt left out, if they wanted to be left alone. 

It was almost like therapy. With wine. For a split second you wondered if you could get a liquor license for your clinic before realizing that was an insane thought. 

At the end of the day, once all the tables were wiped and the floor was mopped, the wine was put away and the rest of the staff had gone home, you found yourself outside on the bench at the edge of the patio, overlooking the vineyards, a small tree above you gently blocking the setting sun. 

“Can I join you?” 

You turned just as Jake slid into the spot next to you on the bench. 

“You were amazing,” Jake said. 

A blush crept up around your cheeks. “Thank you.” 

He threaded one arm against the back of the bench, behind your head and shoulders. It was casual, not cloying or weird at all. His scent, that familiar crushed stone fruit smell, wafted over you as the soft breeze carried your scents together, melding them in the air. 

“Do you have dinner plans?” 

You thought about your parents, sitting at home in the Spanish Villa they had built when you were three. About Colin, who you still had barely seen since you returned from London. 

“I’m free.” 

“Good.” Jake stood up and wiped his hands on his jeans. “I’ll make you dinner. Hugo will be excited to see you. And we can taste the new crop of wine.” 

As you watched Jake walk back up the hill toward the building, a strange sensation built in your stomach. For the first time ever, you realized that Jake Seresin was more than just a family friend. 

***

“It’s hot.” 

“Ow, ow, ow!” 

Jake laughed as you let your mouth hang open, pasta tumbling back onto the plate. You closed your mouth, wiping it with a napkin. “OK, ew, sorry you had to see that.” 

“I warned you,” he replied, twirling a fork in his bowl of creamy vodka pasta. “You just don’t listen. You never have.” 

“That’s not fair,” you said, breaking off a piece of bread and sliding your hand down to your thigh, feeding Hugo under the table. He greedily chomped at the bread, and you wiped your fingertips on your thigh. 

“I saw that,” Jake countered and you laughed. “Don’t spoil him too much or he’s going to stop liking me and he’ll only want you.” 

“That’s the plan,” you replied, patting the Golden’s head. 

Talking to Jake was easy. It wasn’t until the two of you sat down to dinner that you realized in all the years you had known him, Jake and Jenny flitting in and out of your life as they returned or started a new global trek, you had only limited interactions with Jake. 

Before taking the job at the vineyard, you had only one distinct memory of Jake Seresin. On your nineteenth birthday, right before you left for London after your gap year, Jake and Jenny had been staying at your parent’s house. After dinner, as everyone sat around with glasses of champagne, Jake handed you a gift, wrapped in silver paper. 

Inside was a delicate gold necklace with a pearl dangling off the edge. You looked up in surprise. 

He smiled. “I saw it when we were in Vietnam and had to get it for you.” 

After dinner, as Jake cleared the table and you sat on the floor playing with Hugo, you reached up and touched the pearl necklace underneath your turtleneck collar. It was hidden, but it was there. 

“Drink?” Jake asked, emerging with a bottle and two glasses. 

“Do you ever get tired of wine?” you asked, standing up and stretching, the hem of your shirt coming untucked for a moment and you reached back down, sticking it into the top of your jeans. 

“Never.” He grinned, pouring the dark red wine into a glass and handing it to you as you settled onto the couch. Jake poured himself a glass, sitting in a wingback chair near the fireplace. 

“How are you?” you asked quietly. On the mantle was a picture of Jenny. She had been beautiful. Dark hair, piercing green eyes. A laugh that could fill a room. 

Jake stilled. Hugo sensed it because he left his place at your feet and made his way to Jake, nudging his head against Jake’s thigh. “It’s quiet,” he replied after a moment. “Being alone.” 

“How so?” 

“Leaves you alone with your thoughts,” Jake said. “A good thing, and a bad thing.” 

“I understand,” you whispered. 

Jake cocked his head to one side. “Do I need to pay you for this?” he joked. 

You hid your face behind your wine glass. “Sorry, force of habit.” There was a pause. Then, “Have you, um, dated? Since?” 

“A few dates, yeah. But everyone I met, they just didn’t hold up to her.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“She loved you,” Jake said. “That time that we came to see you in London and the two of you went shopping at Harrods? She came back to the hotel practically giddy. Said that even though the two of you had an age difference, she felt like you were a friend she could count on.” 

“I loved her, too,” you replied, a tear forming in the corner of your eye. “I’m so sorry I didn’t make it back for the funeral.” 

Jake shook his head. “Really, don’t worry about it. Jenny wasn’t one for funerals. Neither am I, for the record. If it ever comes to that.” 

“It won’t,” you replied instantly. “Jake Seresin? You’re unstoppable.” 

“So was she,” he said softly. “Life happens, Y/N. You can’t predict it. You just have to keep going and hope that you find something else that makes you happy.” 

“Have you?” you asked. “Found something else that makes you happy?” 

“I’m working on it.” 

Tag list:

@lyn-js @seresinhangmanjake @bobfloydsbabe @blue-aconite @clancycucumber230 @dempy @allbark-no-bite @teacupsandtopgun @na-ta-sh-aa @katiedid-3 @bradshawburner @xomrsalliej4787xo @xoxabs88xox @kmc1989 @shanimallina87 @rosiahills22 2 @emo @horseshoegirl @eminyourjeans

[neoplatinum]

speed racer | nicha 'minnie' yontararak

summary: after the loss of your mentor, you reconnect with an old friend. also to discuss growing up around each other.

pairing: minnie x street racer!reader

themes: childhood friends to lovers, angst, sad minnie :(, small character 'death', mentions of yuqi

wc: 1.6k

eyes on the road, hand's on the wheels and keep your head leveled. that's what your mentor said to you when he offered to let you drive his road racer when you were thirteen. now at the age of twenty something and the loss of your mentor, you try to keep his teaching in your mind when you race. the only attachment you have left is his modded mk4 supra and a pack of half used cigarettes and lighter from his last days.

no one heard from him since, everyone agreed that he has passed away, but you knew better. that man was resilient and able to get himself even out of the worst situations, so you were confused when his family showed up asking where he had been.

his last words to you were, "drive." but there was nothing left for you here. in a past hobby that led to more injuries than a cash prize, you were determined to leave the street racing scene.

sometimes you race though, whenever minnie calls you to. one of the closest friends you had growing up. growing up around each other whenever her father gave you racing lessons or even just spending dinner together. both of you had grown up orbiting around each other but never collided until her father disappeared.

the funeral procession took place weeks ago, but you couldn't find the strength to attend. instead you opt to take his favorite supra out for a long long ride, reminiscing of his drifting techniques and his shifts. deciding it was the proper way to honor his disappearance, you take his supra out for every weekend.

tonight you find minnie's car out on an overlook as she stares out into the scenery of the distant city. her eyes glossy and arms crossed.

"hey." you start when you step out of her old man's car. she still hasn't registered that there's someone next to her. "minnie?" you call out to her.

"oh hi," she starts wiping away the tears that are rushing down her face, rubbing with her palms and wiping them off on her jeans. you offer a tissue and stand next to her.

"how are you doing?" you start.

"well how well can anyone really be doing when their father's missing and everyone thinks he is dead." she explains in a shaky voice and holding her own arms for comfort. you go into the trunk and hand her a jacket to wrap around.

"here." you offer, to which she smiles seeing the jacket. an old jacket that was once her father's. large and old and worn, with small holes and cutes along the sleeves. she can tell that you've been wearing it frequently.

"this jacket...you know he loved you right?" she starts, watching you stare into the city with a heavy heart. "he always talked about how much you reminded him of his young self."

"i know that old geezer loved me, i truly do." you begin. shuffling your feet and kicking pebbles to avoid looking at minnie.

"sometimes i thought he loved you more than his own daughter," minnie explains slowly, you look at her confused "i used to resent how much time he spent with you instead of his own daughter. how he could devote hours to a kid that isn't his when he has his own."

you nod, its obvious what circling around each other since you were young has put you two into. she resented you for the attention you were given. on the other hand you resented her for being the kid that he went home to and spent time with, leaving you to sleep outside and away from their family.

"glad to know we both felt the same." you grin and she drops her jaw.

"what?" she exclaims.

"i resented you too minnie, you were the kid he actually went home to, i was left to sleep alone in the shed while you were his family. i always just felt like a stray, never part of the family." you turn more serious and face her as you talk.

she stops to think about your words and feelings, to understand your point of view and why you feel the way that you do.

"he really is something else." she laughs a bit and turns back to face the city. "i miss him."

"me too minnie."

she looks at your features, ones that are familiar and ones that are new. not seeing each other for so long has definitely been jarring.

"i see you still take his car out for spins." she glances at her father's black supra. she circles the car before settling into the passenger seat.

you get into the driver's seat and watch her marvel at the car that was once her fathers.

"stupid dad, him and his cars." she lets out tears when she sees the photo of him and minnie in the glove box, a treasured photo that she never knew he kept. you smile at the photo and lean over.

"lets go on a ride, i'll follow you." you smile at her. she nods and settles back into her own purple car. turning the engine into a loud roar before setting off into the night, you following behind closely as you both share the same feelings of driving.

--

you both reach a local convenience store by the end of the night. as you both eat cup noddles by the window, minnie turns to you.

"how are you and yuqi doing?" she asks, immediately you cringe at the question. rather unfortunate memories resurface when you think of song yuqi.

you answer honestly, "she dumped me." digging into your bowl of noodles and slurping loudly. minnie nods to process the answer; you can see her curiosity overflowing.

"what happened?" she continues in a more gentle tone. her eyes following your eyeline.

you sit and ponder the breakup as well as the aftermath. a hard topic to go back to, considering yuqi and minnie were close friends until you started dating yuqi.

you cough a bit, "she says that im in love with someone else." the air becomes stiff, yuqi hasn't spoken to minnie in a long time so she's suprised by the answer.

"are you? in love with someone else?" she asks and hands you a napkin. in between bites you try and think about the question because it has you stumped for weeks.

"not that i can think of." it's hard to come to terms with your own feelings for other people. instead, most of the girlfriends you've had all approached you first.

"then you're dumb." minnie bites out.

"do you know something that i don't know?" you counter.

she nods and points at you. "when we used to hook up, way before yuqi, you called it quits because you liked me." she explains.

"no i didn't." you roll your eyes, you hooked up with minnie because it was safe; it wasn't complicated like feelings were. you both understood each other's boundaries, never crossing past them. "that wasn't why i called it quits."

"then why did you call it quits?" minnie prods at your brain.

"it was probably because you said you liked someone." you mutter back, eating more of the ramen you had.

"nope, didn't like anyone at the time." she smiles as she says it, "you were just scared that you were falling for me." she grins in that familiar manner; when she knows something you don't know.

"i didn't like you then minnie." you conclude, a little exhausted from all this interrogating. "did you know that yuqi was uncomfortable with us hanging out?"

she nods, "yeah, it's why we drifted apart. she thought i wanted to steal you."

"as if." you scoff at the idea.

"she wasn't wrong though, i did want to steal you from her." she goes on. the shock is written all over your face.

minnie nods and explains that she used to like you too, but her dad forbade you two from ever dating. "he hated the idea of us dating. said i should find someone who isn't like him: not dangerous, you know."

"i agree, you should find someone better."

"see, that's why you're just like him, always thinking i deserve better, when all i want is you." she continues, and you let her. she explains how she always wanted you around, and when you called it quits, it broke her heart.

you're confused, but she explains that she's always liked your resilience and that yuqi dating you is what made their friendship distant; she couldn't bear to see you two together.

"yuqi is nothing like me, she's loud, she's brash and she gets what she wants. i've waited for years to even ask you how you truly feel about me. all along i've liked you." she says.

you nod, a little shocked by all this, minnie never mentioned that she liked you all these years, even when you told her you wanted to get to know yuqi better.

minnie is a woman that feels hard, feels all her emotions and lets others take her spot, even if she deserves it. and you feel awful, knowing that her feelings were never properly reciprocated. also that younger you was too caught up in your own suffering that you had strung minnie along.

"i'm sorry for dumping this all on you all of a sudden." her shoulders drop.

"it's okay, i needed to hear this. to finally understand us." you explain back. it's strange, seeing minnie after all this time, so familiar yet she's changed, grown into herself more. trying to better grasp the opportunities that she has. meanwhile you're staying afloat lost in yourself, confused where to go next.

"hey, if i beat you down that mountain, you owe me a date." she grins, shaking her car keys.

"and if i beat you?" you ask back.

"then i owe you a date." she says back.

you laugh out, "fair deal. let's drive."

--

a/n: don't know how i feel about the ending but i wanted to do a street racer story for a minute. wanted to incorporate more about street racing but i got tired. stay safe and stay healthy everyone!

[heybrownieboy]

CHAPTER TWENTY: HE’S A TSUNDERE

POV: Written.

— Word Count: 5.8K

Author’s Note: Sorry it took a week for this update :( But this is a much longer chapter than what I normally write. I hope you enjoy :)

— Anything in regular italics is just Y/N’s thoughts. Things in bold italics is Y/N speaking to Minho telepathically.

Jeongin’s whole body was tense. His muscles were wound so tight he swore if he made one wrong move they would snap. 

“You have some rich friends, Sunbae.” 

Jeongin’s head snapped over to you. You stared back at him with a slightly frazzled expression, shifting the tote bag in your hands. He blinked a few times before turning back to stare at Chan’s and Changbin’s massive condo complex. 

“Yeah,” Jeongin breathed. “Chan’s family owns Bahng Enterprise and Changbin’s family owns Seo and Co.” 

You hummed. “Lily mentioned that before.” You paused for a moment, taking in Jeongin’s handsome side profile. I see why he’s so popular. “You ready to do this?” 

Jeongin took a deep breath, running his hand through his ginger hair. “Yeah,” he said. “But, uh… a little warning? I’m not really on the best of terms with them.” 

You winced slightly at that. “Are you guys going to be arguing a lot or…” 

He shook his head. “No,” he said. “It just might be a little tense. Okay, it’ll be a lot tense. But, I promise I’ll try to make everything go smoothly.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassure. “I’m not going to judge or anything. I’ve had falling outs with friends too. I understand how hard it is.” 

Jeongin shot you a small smile which you quickly returned. 

He squared his shoulders. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s do this.” 

The two of you made your way into the building and over to the front desk.

“Visitors for Bang Chan,” he said. “Suit 101.”

The clerk nodded and picked up the phone. She spent a few moments speaking to the person— which you assumed was Chan— on the other side before hanging up. She then handed the two of you temporary visitor passes.

“Enjoy your day,” she said with a polite smile. 

“You too,” the both of you said simultaneously. 

You followed Jeongin towards the row of gold elevators and waited patiently for one to come after he pressed the up button. Your eyes scanned the lobby and you immediately noticed the sheer amount of security guards and other staff there. 

“Security here is tight,” Jeongin said. “Like insanely so. You aren’t allowed anywhere without a keycard or visitors pass.” 

“I’m glad we decided to meet out front then,” you said as the two of you stepped into the elevator that opened. “I would have just tried to head up and get in trouble.” 

Jeongin chuckled, pressing the button for floor ten— the highest floor. “You probably would have been carried out,” he said.

“Oh god,” you groaned. “Knowing you, you’d probably come out and tease me for it. You’d never let me live it down either.” 

“Knowing me?” he asked with an arched eyebrow. “Girl, we've met twice.” 

“You’re best friends with Beomgyu and Heeseung,” you pointed out. “And Jimin has said you can be just as bad as them.” 

Jeongin snorted in amusement. “Of course he did.” 

The two of you hopped off the elevator and started down the grand hallway of the top floor.

You felt so out of place here in your jeans and sneakers. You berated yourself silently, wishing you had worn something a little more dressy or maybe one of the few designer pieces you owned.

I should have let Nicholas dress me up today or something.

Jeongin came to a stop in front of a pair of large cherrywood double doors. You watched him as he stared at the keypad, seemingly contemplating something. A heavy sigh escaped him after another moment before he rang the doorbell. 

Almost immediately, the doors swung open. You couldn’t help but be just the teensiest bit in awe at the man standing in front of you. 

Because Holy shit it’s Hwang Hyunjin— JYP U’s dance team captain and resident “It Boy”. 

You’ve never actually met him in person, only catching glances of him at parties or occasionally in the halls of the university. 

He really is even more gorgeous up close.

Hyunjin’s eyes were zeroed in on Jeongin— who looked like a deer caught in headlights. 

“You know you could have just come in, Jeongin,” a voice said, breaking the award tension building between the two men. 

Bang Chan appeared from behind Hyunjin, shooting you and Jeongin a kind smile. His eyes settled on Jeongin for a moment as he continued, “You know the pin for the keypad.” 

Next to you, Jeongin shifted and shrugged. “I haven’t been here in eight months,” he said. “It didn’t feel right.” 

Eight months? So, they fell out around the funeral?

You shook your head slightly. That is none of your business, Y/N. 

Chan didn’t say anything for a long moment. His eyes scanned slowly over Jeongin, taking him in. A dissatisfied look flashed across for a split second before it was gone. He hummed softly before his focus shifted to you. 

“And you must be Y/N,” he said, reaching out a hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Chan. Lily talked about you a lot.” 

You shook his hand with a sheepish smile. I’m shaking hands with Bang Chan! you squealed internally. “I hope they were all good things,” you said, doing you best to not seem fazed by the fact that you were shaking hands with the JYP legend. 

Chan chuckled. “They were don’t worry,” he said. He stepped aside, pushing a still silent Hyunjin back gently. “Come in. Felix is in the kitchen right now. He’s making tea.” 

You and Jeongin stepped into the condo’s foyer. Both of you began to take off your shoes as Chan stepped over to grab slippers out of the coat closet. 

“Where are Changbin-sunbae and Seungmin-sunbae?” Jeongin asked. 

You couldn’t help but shooting Jeongin a questioning look, thrown off by the use of “sunbae”. You knew they fell out and all, but that seemed way too formal for people that used to be so close knit. 

“They…” Hyunjin trailed off.

Your eyes connected with his. You could see the pain and grief floating in them.

Chan set down slippers in front of you and Jeongin. “I don’t think they’re coming, Innie,” he said gently. 

“Why?” Jeongin asked. 

Chan grimaced. “It’s hard to explain,” he said. 

“It’s my fault,” Hyunjin said, voice barely above a whisper. “I should have never texted that stupid question.” 

Jeongin blinked a few times, eyeing Hyunjin. “Let me see,” he said. 

Hyunjin’s eyes widened. “Wha—“ 

“The texts. Let me see.” Jeongin held out his hand, waiting for Hyunjin to hand over his phone. 

Chan let out a soft sigh and patted you on the shoulder. “Why don’t you come with me, yeah? We can get whatever you need set up.” 

You looked over at Jeongin. He gave you a small smile and nod. 

“Okay,” you said softly, following Chan towards the living room. 

“Show me,” Jeongin said again, once you were out of ear shot, still holding out his hand. 

“Innie,” Hyunjin breathed. 

Jeongin let out a groan and rolled his eyes. He took a large step forward, reaching into the pocket of Hyunjin’s jeans and snatching out his phone. 

Hyunjin stayed silent as he watch Jeongin unlock his phone with ease and go to the messenger app. He remained silent as he watched the younger boy read over the previous night’s conversation, waiting patiently for him to finish. 

“Okay,” Jeongin said, handing back Hyunjin back his phone. 

“Okay?” Hyunjin asked with a tilt of his head. 

Jeongin simply shrugged. “They can do whatever they want,” he said. “If they want nothing to do with this then that’s fine. At least I know what they think of me now.” 

“They love you Jeongin,” Hyunjin said. “They do. But you know those two. They…” 

“It’s fine, Sunbae,” Jeongin said. He smoothed down the front of his shirt. “But never let them say anything bad against Y/N again.” 

“Do you actually trust her?” Hyunjin asked. 

“Jimin trusts her. She helped him. Plus, she’s done nothing but try to help me this whole week and hasn’t asked for anything in return. So, yes, I do.” Jeongin’s eyes connected with Hyunjin’s. They were only about a meter apart and he could smell the older man’s rose scented cologne. “If you don’t want to be here either then you can leave. You won’t hurt anyone’s feelings.” 

“I want to be here. I want to be here for you, Innie.” 

Jeongin took a small step back and nodded. “Okay,” he said.

Just as the two were about to head towards the living room, the doorbell rung. They shared a look before Jeongin reached over and pulled open the door. He blinked a few times in surprise, the two men in front of him seemingly just as surprised as him.

“Who is it?” Chan asked walking back into the foyer.

“Changbin and Seungmin,” Hyunjin answered, quietly. 

“I thought you weren’t coming?” Jeongin asked, tone coming out colder than he had planned. 

“We never said that,” Changbin said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “We just…” 

“You just what?” 

Chan placed his hand on Jeongin’s shoulder and shook his head. “Let’s not start an argument. Not while Y/N is here.” 

“Ah yes the medium,” Seungmin huffed. 

“Seungmin,” Hyunjin hissed. 

“If you’re going to be rude,” Jeongin said, his tone completely taking on the icy edge now, “leave. Seriously. Y/N is trying to help and if you can’t hold back your snarky ass comments then don’t bother even coming in.” 

“You don’t think this is a load of bullshit?” Seungmin asked. 

“Don’t you think it’s stupid and pathetic to blow something off before even giving it a shot?” Jeongin snapped back.

Jeongin knows he should watch what he says. He knows he should. Seungmin is older than him. He needs to be respectful. But he was way to on edge at the moment to care.

“I get you want nothing to do with me anymore, Hyung,” Jeongin said, his voice smaller now. “So, if this is going to make you uncomfortable then you don’t have to be here. Just stop talking down on Y/N before even getting to know her.” 

Seungmin looked taken back. “I never said—“

“You may have not said it outright but you definitely implied it. And it’s okay. I get it.” Jeongin took a deep breath. “I should get back to Y/N. Felix’s probably talking her ear off.” 

As he walked away, he could make out Chan scolding Changbin and Seungmin quietly. He shook his head a little and stepped into the living room. But, as soon as he did, he was hit by a heavy feeling. 

Jeongin had no idea how to describe it. It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling but something was definitely a little off. He looked over to where you and Felix were standing, both of you seemingly a little nervous. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, walking over to you two.

“Minho’s here,” you said. “And he’s not exactly happy.” 

“What? Why?” 

“He’s angry at us,” Felix said, voice weak. “The rest of us. For how we treated you.”

You shifted in your spot, an uneasy look on your face. Jeongin could tell you were looking off somewhere adjacent to him at the moment. 

“Is he saying anything else?” Jeongin asked. “It feels weird in here.” 

Your eyes widened slightly. “You can feel it?” 

“Kind of? It feels… heavy?”

“He has a really strong aura,” you said. “But even so, most people still wouldn’t be able to tell. Do you feel anything, Felix-sunbae?” 

Felix shook his head. “No,” he said. “Not at all.”

You scrunched your nose. “Don’t be a jackass,” you muttered. 

Felix and Jeongin shot you looks. 

“Sorry,” you said. “Not you. Minho. Has he always had a smart mouth?” You rolled your eyes. “Yes, you do. I get that you’re pissed off but come on.” 

Jeongin stared at you for a moment flabbergasted. “I’m guessing that last part was for him and not us,” he said after a moment. “And yeah. Minho-hyung had always been a smartass.” 

“He said ‘good luck’.” Your eyebrows furrowed. “Just ‘good luck’? What does that even mean?” 

“I’ll have to wait and see,” Jeongin said. “He’ll probably do something petty like turn on all the lights again or keep me up all night with his pacing.” 

You huffed out a small laugh. “He said it’ll be worse.”

Jeongin rolled his eyes but he couldn’t help the small smile that made its way onto his face. “It won’t be,” he said. “He’s a smartass, not a straight up ass.” 

“Is everything okay?” 

You, Felix, and Jeongin all looked over towards Chan. Hyunjin, Changbin and Seungmin all stood behind him. 

“Minho-hyung is angry at us,” Felix said. 

Hyunjin blinked a few times. “He’s already here?” he asked.

You nodded and pointed over by the entrance to the kitchen. “He’s right there,” you said. 

“You didn’t have to perform some type of, I don’t know, seance or something?” Seungmin asked. 

You tilted his head at him. “No? He goes wherever Jeongin-sunbae goes most of the time.” 

Jeongin look at you, surprised. “Wait, really?” 

“Yeah. He’s not attached to you or anything but it seems easier for him to stay close to you most of the time. Since you’re familiar.” 

“If he wants to ‘attach’ to me he can.” 

You smacked Jeongin’s arm. “Absolutely not,” you said. “Don’t offer something if you don’t know the implications of.” 

“How bad can it be?” Jeongin asked. 

“It’s awful so stop thinking about it.” 

Jeongin shrugged, plopping down on the love seat. He tugged you gently, coaxing you to sit in the spot beside him. 

“Why is he angry at us?” Changbin asked you. 

You winced. “He’s using some… choice words.” 

“Choice words,” Minho huffed. “Go ahead and tell them what I said. Those assholes deserve it.” 

You blinked at him. “Don’t call your friends assholes.” 

Minho crossed his arms, chains rattling. “They are and they know it. They abandoned him when they all should have stayed together.” 

“He called us assholes?” Chan asked. 

You blinked a few times, eyes tearing away from the disgruntled spirit on the other side of the room. “I said that out loud?” 

Chan nodded. “You did,” he said. “But honestly we deserve it. We were assholes.”

Jeongin just sighed and leaned into your shoulder a bit. “Tell Minho-hyung that all of that isn’t important right now.” 

You nudged him slightly. “He can hear you, dummy.” 

“I am so going to get that kid once we go back to his apartment,” Minho grumbled. 

“Don’t run his power bill up too high,” you giggled.

“Hyung!” Jeongin whined. “Stop fucking with my lights!”

“He’s been messing with your lights?” Felix asked.

“Yes,” Jeongin groaned. “And my water. Plus, he’s been hiding things too. I know you’re there now, why did you have to hide my AirPods?” 

“I didn’t hide them, dumbass,” Minho said. “They’re in the pocket of the shorts you wore yesterday.” 

“He said he didn’t hide them,” you said. “They’re in the pocket of those shorts from yesterday.” 

“Oh,” Jeongin said, slumping slightly. 

“You forgot to add the dumbass,” Minho said. 

You sighed. “And he called you a dumbass.” 

“Love you too, Hyung,” Jeongin said, rolling his eyes. 

Minho grinned. 

“Damn,” you said. “No ‘Love you too’?” 

“He would never,” Felix said. “He’s a tsundere.” 

Jeongin nodded in agreement. You hummed, shifting slightly from Jeongin to set down your tote bag. 

“We can start whenever you all are ready,” you said. 

“Ah!” Felix suddenly exclaimed. “The tea! The brownies!” 

You watched the blond haired man scurry into the kitchen.

“Brownies?” You asked. “As in the famous Felix Lee brownies?” 

Chan chuckled. “So you’ve heard of them?” 

“Lily said they were the best brownies she’s ever had.” 

“Oh trust me they are. I think these are new though. He mentioned something about turtles?” 

“You made turtle brownies?!” You squealed at Felix once he walked back into the living room with a massive tray.

“Yeah,” he said nodding. “I texted Lily last night and asked her if you had a favorite kind. She said you really like them.” 

You clapped your hands together excitedly, leaning towards the coffee table as he set the tray down. “I love them!” 

Felix smiled at you. “I made Hojicha too,” he said. “I thought it would pair best with the brownies since it’s not too sweet.” 

“That sounds great. Thank you, Sunbae.” 

He really is sweet like everyone says, you thought as you watched him pour tea for everyone. 

“He is,” Minho said. 

Your head shot up and you peered at him. “Why are you in my head?” you asked. 

Minho shrugged. “You’re the one thinking out loud, Sweetheart.” 

You glared. Don’t call me that, you grumbled to him. 

He smirked, leaning against the wall he was standing infront of.

“Minho-hyung is in your head?” Hyunjin asked utterly confused. “What does that mean?” 

“Ah,” you breathed. “It’s kind of hard to explain. It’s a part of the ‘psychic’ part of being a psychic medium.” You shifted slightly. “I can usually communicate with spirits telepathically. But sometimes my personal thoughts bleed out into that telepathy and I ‘think out loud’. At least to the spirits I do. It’s kind of like earlier. Sometimes I’ll accidentally speak out loud instead of telepathically.” 

“Can you read our thoughts?” Changbin asked. 

“Nah,” you said. “Only dead people’s don’t worry.”

Jeongin snorted in amusement.

“Though,” you said, “I can usually tell what people feel. I’m also an empath of sorts. Not as strongly as others but I can usually get a gage on what everyone feels.” 

Felix handed you a tea cup and a plate with a brownie on it. You accepted it with a quiet “thank you”. 

“So you can tell me what I feel right now?” Seungmin asked. 

“I think anyone with eyes can tell what you feel right now, Sunbae,” you said. “At least on the surface. It’s extremely obvious you don’t trust me or believe any of this.” 

“I don’t.” 

“Seungmin,” Chan warned. 

You shook your head with a soft smile. “It’s okay,” you said. You took a sip of your tea, humming in content at the taste before setting the cup on the side table on your right. “I’m used to it. I mean I claim I can see dead people. Of course you don’t believe me. Most people don’t at first.” Your eyes connected with Seungmin’s. “So what do you want me to do?” 

Seungmin’s eyes widened slightly. “What?” 

“What will make you believe?” you asked. 

“I…” he trailed off, eyebrows furrowed together in thought. 

“He’s stubborn,” Minho said. “I don’t know if there’s anything you can do to make him believe.” 

I’m used to stubborn people.

Minho hummed. He stood up straight from against the wall and walked over towards you, chains scrapping on the ground. 

Next to you Jeongin perked up. “I heard that,” he said. “The chains. Where is he going?” 

You stared at Jeongin. He has to be sensitive to the paranormal. He’s catching way too many things most people wouldn’t. 

“He’s right behind us now,” you said slowly, still staring at the man next to you. 

“Is that why it feels a little cold?” 

You nodded. “Yea-“ 

You yelped as your head was yanked back by a firm grip on your ponytail by something.

Or rather someone. 

You turned around in the love seat and glared up at Minho. “What are you ten?!” you hissed, reaching up to smooth down your hair. “What the hell was that for?!” 

Minho grinned, his cat like eyes glinting mischievously, and nodded towards the men sitting across from you. Slowly, you turned around and were met with nothing but shocked expressions. 

“They should believe you now,” Minho said. 

“You pulled my hair to prove a point?” you grumbled. 

“Holy shit,” Changbin breathed. He elbowed Seungmin. “You saw that right?” 

Seungmin stared at you owl-eyed. “Yeah.” He sat up a little straighter. “I need more proof though.”

“You just watched her head get yanked back and you need more proof?” Jeongin asked.

“That could be faked obviously.”

Jeongin let out an exasperated groaned.

“I told he’s stubborn,” Minho whispered, close to your ear. You felt a chill go down your spine at the sudden closeness. But, before you could get out even a single word, he started to walk away and over to his original spot.

“Where is he going now?” Jeongin asked. 

“You can actually tell when he’s there or when he’s moving?” Felix asked. 

Jeongin nodded. “I can hear the chains,” he said. “And it’s not cold anymore. It moved.” 

“Chains?” Hyunjin asked. 

But before you could answer, all seven of you were plunged into darkness. Immediately it was followed by the sound of the tap turning on in the kitchen. Several curses broke out amongst the men in the room and there was the sound of panicked shuffling.

“He’s really trying to prove a point, isn’t he?” Jeongin sighed. 

You hummed in agreement. 

The water came to a stop and then the lights turned back on after another moment of silence. Hyunjin and Changbin were now both standing up, terrified looks on their faces. 

“Why do you look so scared?” Jeongin asked, amusement clear as day in his voice. “It’s just Minho-hyung.” 

“How does that not freak you out?” Hyunjin asked. 

“Because it’s Hyung. Why would I be afraid of him?” 

Your eyes focused on Minho, who was gazing softly at Jeongin— a completely new look for the normally agitated spirit. You couldn’t help but smile at that.

You really are a tsundere, you teased. 

Minho shot you a look but there was no strength in it. “Shut up,” he grumbled. 

You giggled and finally took a bite of your brownie. 

Holy shit this is amazing!

“Felix-sunbae,” you said. “Please open up a bakery.” 

Felix looked over at you, still frazzled from what all just happened and nodded slowly. You giggled to yourself again. 

I think he’s still in shock. 

“I think they’re all in shock,” Minho said. “Changbin looks like he shit himself. He’s always been a scaredy cat. Chan is weirdly calm though. He’s usually even worse.” 

Nah. He’s scared shitless. I can feel it.

Minho let out a loud laugh before quickly collecting himself. “That’s great actually,” he said biting back another laugh. “He deserves it.” 

Damn. You that angry at them?

“Yes,” Minho said, his voice firmer now. “They just abandoned each other. They abandoned Jeongin. I’m fucking livid to be honest. If I could, I would punch every one of them. Okay… maybe not Yongbok but still.” 

Yeah, no. Let’s not do that.

“You think I could? I was able to pull your hair. Maybe I have enough energy to punch one or two of them.” 

You sighed, shaking your head at him. Maybe? But I’d rather not find out.

“You’re no fun, Y/N-ah,” Minho said with a teasing smirk. 

“Okay,” Chan said, breaking the silence that had fell amongst the others. “I think that’s enough proof as it is.” He blew out a breath. “Why don’t we officially start this meeting then, yeah?” 

Everyone chimed in with agreements. Hyunjin and Changbin both took their seats. Felix quickly finished handing out the tea and brownies before taking his.

“Two weeks,” Jeongin started but shook his head. “No three weeks ago now," he corrected himself, "I started experiencing weird things in my apartment. The lights and water would turn off and on. My keyboard even turned on once. Small things like a keychain would go missing and then I find them in places I know I didn’t have them. And the pacing. I heard it almost every night.” 

“But how did you know it was Hyung?” Seungmin asked. 

“Beomgyu suggested it. The keychain that went missing? It was the one Hyung got my from Kyoto.”

“The fox?” Felix asked. 

Jeongin nodded. “I found it in the old hoodie of his that I have,” he said. “Then there was one day where I heard humming in my kitchen. It sounded just like him. So when I told my friends that, Beomgyu was also the one that suggested me asking ‘Eris’ for help.” 

“At first I didn’t know Jeongin was associated with any of you,” you said. “Especially Minho or Jisung. So it was an insane coincidence that I happened to see Minho the same day he texted me.” 

“Jeongin mentioned you saw him,” Chan said. 

“It was only for a minute. But when I recognized him, I was really thrown off guard. I had been able to sense him or Jisung at all the previous year.” 

Jeongin twisted towards you, surprised. “What?” he asked. “What do you mean?” 

“I wasn’t in Korea when they went missing,” you said. “I got back a few days after the last search party. So, I went camping in the mountains for a week to try to find them.” 

“You tried to find them?” Hyunjin asked. 

You nodded. “Usually if I concentrate hard enough, I can pin point where people are. Dead or alive. It’s one of my abilities that goes both ways. So, I used flyers and concentrated on what they looked like. Usually I’d be able to track them? It really is hard to explain. It’s more like a feeling than anything else. I walked through every inch of those mountains but I didn’t find anything.” 

It was quiet for a few moments as everyone took in your words. 

Jeongin decided to break it. “Before I knew she was Eris she told me to try a knock method,” he said. “I asked Minho-hyung a bunch of yes or no questions. From what he told me, whatever took them? It wasn’t human. He also told me that he and Jisung-hung had made a contract with something— which Y/N had suspected when I told her about hearing chains dragging on the floor. Whatever they made a contract with wasn’t human either. And that Jisung-hyung is with it.” 

“Wait,” Changbin said. “Contract? What kind of contract?” 

You and Jeongin shared looks. 

“They’re in spiritual debt,” you said. “I haven’t told Jeongin this yet because it just happened the other day but Jisung came to me. He and Jisung made a contract with three things. Well, two things and one living person. They made a contract to be resurrected.” 

“And we were fucked over,” Minho grumbled from across the room. 

You shot him a sympathetic look. 

“Resurrected,” Jeongin repeated, voice barely above a whisper. 

“Is that even possible?” Felix asked.

“No,” you said. “But it’s one of the oldest tricks in the book. A demon or other entity swears it can help resurrect a spirit but in the end they get fooled a usually end up selling their soul instead.” 

“So they sold their souls?” Chan asked. 

“From what Jisung said, it was only supposed to be a quarter. Apparently this contract including some type of trial. First they were supposed to escape from Purgatory. And then they sold a quarter of their souls. But they were lied to. Instead half of their souls got taken.” 

“We didn’t realize it at first,” Minho said. “We signed the contract and it seemed to be okay. But then we had to escape Azrael. That didn’t go so well and we were sent to hell. It took us almost four months to escape. And when we got back, another quarter of our souls were taken.”

“Minho said that they hadn’t realized it at first,” you said. “That the contract seemed to be fine. But when they had to escape Azrael, they failed. They were sent to hell and when they escaped almost four months later, another quarter of their souls were taken.” 

“They had to escape the angel of death?” Felix asked. “And hell?” 

You nodded. 

“How?” the blonde rasped. “How is that even possible?” 

“It was mainly Jisung,” Minho said. “He made a map. It took us probably over a fifty or more tries to get out. But he was able to map everything out.” 

“Jisung was able to map everything out after over fifty tries,” you said. 

Makes a lot of sense. He must of carefully mapped out each level like I did. 

Minho stared at you, shock written across his face. “What?” He asked. 

Shit. He heard me again. 

You just shook your head. Nothing. What happened after that?

Minho squinted at you— obviously suspicious— but continued. “When we escaped we were chased down by hellhounds. Jisung sacrificed himself for me. I was stuck on that mountain while he was sent back to hell.” 

“After they escaped,” you said, “they were chased by hellhounds. Jisung sacrificed himself for Minho and was sent back to hell. Minho was stuck on the mountain.” 

“Stuck on the mountain?” Seungmin asked. 

“Jisung mentioned a binding spell.” You paused, listening carefully as Minho explained. “The living person they made a contract with used a spell to bind those them to the mountain,” you continued when he finished, “so they couldn’t wander anywhere else. But when Jisung manage to escape hell, the hellhounds, and Azrael all for a second time he was also able to break the binding spell that held them there. But when they left they were only able to enter Jeongin’s apartment for awhile.” 

“Why isn’t Jisung here?” Changbin asked. 

“When we managed to escape,” Minho said, “They came looking for us. We were worried they would go after Jeongin. They have this weird… infatuation with him. They talk about him all the time. Jisung went back to them three weeks ago. He stays there to try to deter them off from finding us. They’re afraid Azrael will come for them so, they don’t leave the mountain often and have a bunch of wards to keep him and the hellhounds away.” 

Your eyes widened and you slowly explained to the other six what Minho said. 

“Why me?” Jeongin asked. 

“We don’t know,” Minho said. “Jisung has been trying to find that out.” 

“Jisung’s trying to find out,” you said. And they have wards to keep angels away? Hellhounds sure. But, angels?

Minho shrugged. “I don’t know how they do it,” he said. “One of them is… different. Like completely different. It doesn’t feel dark like the other thing. But it doesn’t feel good either. It’s the one that set up the wards."

Could that be the elemental? Would they be able to ward off angels of all things? 

“So the two of you were in my apartment before three weeks ago?” Jeongin asked, facing directly where Minho was. 

He really can tell where he is.

“He said they were just staying there at first,” you said after Minho finished speaking. “It wasn’t until Jisung went back to the mountain that Minho started to present himself. He was trying to figure out a way to get your attention so you could help them.” 

“Didn’t you have a premonition about Jisung?” Felix asked. “Jeongin mentioned it but he didn’t say what it was about.”

“He’s going back to hell again,” you said grimly.

Minho stood up straight now. “What?” he asked.

“He was being chased down by hellhounds,” you said. “He was close to purgatory and he was trying to make it. But…”

“He doesn’t,” Hyunjin uttered.

You nodded. “I’m not sure when he’s being sent back. I just spoke to him two days ago so he might have not gone back yet.”

“He popped in yesterday,” Minho said. “While Jeongin was in class.”

“And Minho saw him yesterday.”

“Do you think we can help them before he gets sent back?” Jeongin asked. “I know you said it’s dangerous to break a spiritual debt but we have to try right?”

“It is,” you said. “Especially since we ha—“ You shook your head and corrected yourself. “Since I have no idea what I’ll be dealing with.”

“You?” Chan asked. “We won’t let you deal with it by yourself, you know?” 

“For the most part I will be,” you said, voice firm. “Again it's dangerous. Extremely dangerous. It’ll be safer if I go about this mostly myself. Honestly, I mainly just need you all as a connection.” 

“A connection?” Seungmin asked. 

“You were the last people with them before they went missing. Plus, from what it seems you were also the people closest to them. If people with strong connections are present, I might be able to actually not just break the contact but also help them move on.”

“How do you know how to do that?” Seungmin asked.

You took a sip of your tea. “I was practically bred to do it,” you said, a bitterly sarcastic edge to your voice.

“Bred?” Changbin asked.

“My family was very selective with partners for each heir. My mother was married off to a medium in hopes that their child would be one too. It worked to say the least.”

It worked a little too well.

“Jimin said you’re from a family of Shamans,” Jeongin said softly.

More like a cult.

“I am,” you said, “But a lot of my family are also full on mediums or empaths as well.” You let out a soft sigh. “Most of my childhood was spent in training. Cleansing. Banishing. Complete exorcisms. You name it, I could probably do it. So, though it is dangerous, I am confident I can help those two in some way. But, first we need to find their bodies.” Your eyes connected with Minho’s. “Do you know where they are?” 

“A cave,” Minho said. He seemed almost pained saying it. “A cave in the mountains. I… I don’t know which one though.” 

“A cave,” you repeated.

“Does he know which one?” Chan asked. 

“There’s dozens of caves on that mountain,” Changbin said.

“There’s a whole network of them,” Seungmin said.

“He said he doesn’t remember,” you said. “That’s not surprising though. It happens a lot with spirits. They don’t remember certain things about their life or about their death. And a lot of the time, the longer they’re earth bound the more they forget.” 

The guys all shared grim looks. 

“What about the one that’s alive?” Hyunjin asked. “The one they made a contract with?” 

“He lives at the shrine,” Minho said. “He’s not a monk but the caregiver.”

“The shrine,” you said. “He’s the caregiver of the shrine.” 

“That motherfucker?!” Changbin suddenly exclaimed, standing up. 

You tilted you head at him. “What?” 

“He was an asshole,” Felix grumbled. “He barely let us search anywhere on the property.” 

“The cops found him suspicious,” Chan said. “They got a search warrant and they said they turned the shrine pretty much upside down. They didn’t find anything though.” 

“Well,” you said, “I know the first place we’re going.” 

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[moodymelanist]

once bitten (and twice shy): part two

we are back again with the second installment of Cassian trying to flirt his pants off with Nesta! hope you enjoy @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk (and thank you again to @acotargiftexchange for putting this whole thing together!)

Chapter Summary: Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn go next door for dinner.

Nesta escapes mostly unscathed.

Read on AO3 here!

✷✷✷✷✷

2.

The next morning dawned bright and crisp, with a fresh layer of snow settling on top of everything like powdered sugar. Nesta couldn’t help but stare out the window for a few minutes once she’d woken up, Emerie still sleeping peacefully in the other bed, taking some long, deep breaths as she watched the snow continue to fall gently from the sky. 

Based on how things had gone yesterday, it might be the only chance she’d get for some stillness. She was going to take advantage of it while she had it. 

Eventually, Emerie woke up, and the two of them made their way downstairs to find Gwyn already laying out ingredients for breakfast. Nesta wisely busied herself with as many tasks away from the stove as possible, and twenty minutes later they’d whipped up some pancakes, bacon, and fresh fruit for the three of them to enjoy over steaming mugs of coffee and tea.

“Any news from Mor?” Nesta asked as she reached for the syrup. Their Airbnb had come surprisingly well-stocked; they’d had to pick up less than they’d expected at the grocery store yesterday. 

“Yeah, she said we could come over around 6:30 or 7 for dinner,” Emerie answered. “Any food preferences?”

“No, I’m happy to be surprised,” Gwyn replied. Nesta nodded her agreement; she was a little curious what the self-proclaimed chef would whip up for them. “I would love some lemon drops, though.”

“I’ll tell Mor,” Emerie agreed, popping a grape into her mouth. Once she was done chewing, she swallowed and added, “Unless you just want Azriel’s number…?”

“Well, yeah,” Gwyn responded emphatically. “I just don’t want to be weird about it.”

“I think that ship has sailed,” Nesta teased, laughing softly as she dodged Gwyn’s halfhearted swat on the arm. “It’s a miracle we survived yesterday in one piece.”

“Excuse you, we were very normal yesterday,” Emerie said, Gwyn nodding furiously to back her up. “You’re the only one being weird. Cassian seems like he’s really into you.”

“I’m not being weird,” Nesta said back. “You know how I feel about dating right now.”

“You hate having your very expensive time wasted, yeah, yeah, we know,” Gwyn replied with a roll of her eyes. “We’re on vacation, Nesta! Live a little.”

Nesta rolled her eyes right back. “I’m living just fine, thank you very much.”

After breakfast, the rest of the day went by in a relaxed blur, the three of them reading the afternoon away in their cozy living room with the fireplace blazing. Eventually they peeled off to get ready for dinner, each of them showering and getting ready in their respective corners of the house. 

“Mor says dinner will be ready in 30 if we want to head over soon,” Emerie called out. She was getting ready in her and Nesta’s shared bathroom while Nesta had taken the vanity, and Gwyn was in her own en suite. “Azriel’s making drinks right now.”

“Okay!” Gwyn yelled back. “I’ll be ready in five.”

Nesta was putting the finishing touches on her hair just as Gwyn came into her and Emerie’s shared bedroom. “You look cute, Nesta.”

“Thanks,” Nesta said. She’d gone for a simple look — a cream sweater, slightly flared jeans, and her favorite booties — and her hair was in its usual braided coronet. “You look cute too.”

Gwyn had paired an oversized, blue sweater with leggings and leather boots, and she’d blow dried her hair to smooth, coppery perfection. “Thanks! You don’t think it’s too casual, do you?”

“No, no, you look good,” Nesta reassured her. “Let’s grab Emerie and get this show on the road.”

Emerie emerged from the bathroom then, wearing a lovely green blouse and black jeans. Her loose curls were pulled half up from her face, showing off her high cheekbones and pretty, hazel eyes. “How do I look?”

“Mor won’t know what hit her,” Gwyn replied, winking. “Let’s knock ’em dead, ladies.”

Once they were suitably bundled up, the three of them made the short trek next door to Mor, Azriel, and Cassian’s rental. Gwyn reached out and rang the doorbell, and thankfully it didn’t take long for someone to come open the door.

“You made it!” Mor tripped excitedly as she flung the door open. She was dressed in a white sweater dress and tights, and she and Emerie eyed each other appreciatively for a moment before Mor remembered they were standing in the cold. “Come in, come in.”

Nesta followed everyone inside, unsurprised to find that their neighbors had a very similar layout to their own rental next door. Even the decorations were nearly identical other than the color scheme, and someone had set up the fireplace so they were almost immediately blasted with warmth once they walked far enough inside. 

Gwyn went to go find Azriel and Mor whisked Emerie away to help her with something, which unsurprisingly left Nesta on her own. Sighing, she figured she might as well follow the smells of good food, which was how she ended up finding Cassian standing in front of the stove. 

Cassian looked right at home in the kitchen, and since he’d rolled the sleeves up on his red henley, Nesta got a full view of the muscles in his arms flexing as he stirred a massive pot of what smelled like spaghetti and marinara sauce. He looked up at the sight of Nesta entering the kitchen and shot her a wide grin. “Hey. You made it.”

“That I did,” Nesta said. She motioned toward the stove and asked, “What’s on the menu?”

“Spaghetti and meatballs,” he said back. He gave the pot one last stir and reached down to turn down the heat, his large hands easily encompassing the knob. “I didn’t have time to make the spaghetti from scratch, but at least the meatballs and sauce are made with love.”

“I sure picked a great day to wear cream,” she replied dryly, motioning to her sweater. 

He laughed, and damn did his eyes crinkling around the edges do something for her. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. If you spill something on your shirt I have plenty of extras upstairs.”

“What are we, five?” she fired back with a roll of her eyes. She absolutely didn’t think about how comfortable his shirts probably would be, given their size difference. “I’m a grown woman. I’m not a messy eater.”

“Can’t say the same,” he responded, his familiar smirk already beginning to make an appearance. “The best meals are worth making a mess, if you know what I mean.”

Thankfully, Azriel entered the kitchen at precisely that moment and lightly smacked Cassian on the back of the head. “Get your mind out of the fucking gutter, Cass.”

“Whatever, Dad,” Cassian said, rolling his eyes. “Don’t you have drinks to be making?”

“Don’t you have food to be cooking?” Azriel said back without missing a beat. He rummaged around in the cabinets for a few moments before finding what he was looking for, making a soft noise of victory as he began pulling cocktail glasses off the shelf. “I deeply apologize about Cassian’s lack of manners, Nesta. We’ve tried to help him but I’m afraid it’s too serious a case.”

“Maybe I’ve just never had the right teacher,” Cassian replied, turning to look at Nesta suggestively. “I can be good with the right… motivation.”

“There’s something seriously wrong with you,” Nesta responded. She rolled her eyes, hard, before moving to help Azriel carry the glasses into the dining room. “That better be the best spaghetti I’ve ever had in my life or else, Cassian.”

“It will be!” Cassian called to her and Azriel’s retreating backs. 

“If he’s making you uncomfortable, you can tell him to fuck off,” Azriel told Nesta once they were out of Cassian’s earshot. “Or I can, if you don’t want to say anything. He likes to get a rise out of people, but if it’s not fun for you…”

“I appreciate that,” Nesta replied sincerely. She hadn’t spoken much to Azriel, but she could tell he meant every word that he was saying. “But don’t worry, I’m not uncomfortable.”

“Okay,” he said. “Good.”

They fell into comfortable silence as they set the table, and once Gwyn came back from using the bathroom, Nesta ler herself fade into the background a little bit so she wasn’t as aggressively third wheeling. Gwyn looked more than happy helping Azriel make drinks, and Nesta could hear Emerie’s soft laugh mixing with Mor’s much louder one, so she supposed as long as her friends were happy, she could deal with a few minutes of quiet time. 

Besides, judging by Cassian’s outrageous flirting, she was going to need every minute without social interaction she could get her hands on.  

Once everything was on the dinner table, Nesta found herself enjoying the food and drinks being served. She made a point not to get even a speck of red on her light sweater, but she had to hand it to Cassian; he knew what he was doing in the kitchen. Azriel seemed like he knew what he was doing, too, since the lemon drop martinis were  just sweet enough to satisfy everyone. Mor had also pulled out a bottle or two of wine as another option, but Nesta didn’t want to push her luck with spilling that on her clothes, so she stayed loyal to the much less risky martinis.

Once they’d eaten their fill, everyone naturally paired off again, and Nesta found herself sitting on the couch next to Cassian while Gwyn helped Azriel with the dishes and Emerie and Mor flirted over the dining table.

“So, Nesta,” Cassian said, turning to her as he slung a heavily muscled arm across the back of the couch. He was so warm she could feel the heat practically radiating off of him, and she had to fight not to lean into it with how cold she nearly always was. “What do you do for work?”

Nesta resigned herself to her fate; hopefully Cassian could hold a decent enough conversation that she wouldn’t be bored out of her mind — or pissed off within the first few minutes — for the rest of the evening. “I’m an attorney.”

“An attorney, huh?” Cassian replied, clearly impressed. “Beauty and brains in equal measure.”

“I won’t deny that,” Nesta told him with a half shrug. She’d heard something similar from so many men over the years it didn’t even phase her anymore; besides, she wouldn’t argue with anyone who was correct. “I work in corporate law.”

“Now it makes sense why you’re so stressed all the time,” he continued on. “And probably why you’re so tense. I told you I’m a PT, right?”

“No, you haven’t mentioned it at all,” she responded, deadpan. “I had no idea.”

He laughed. “Okay, point taken. But if you want my unsolicited professional advice—”

“I don’t.”

“—I would go see someone,” he finished as though she hadn’t interrupted him. “I think you’d really benefit from a good, thorough rubdown.”

“A good, thorough rubdown?” she repeated, cocking a brow. “Is that the official standard of care these days?” 

“It is in my office,” he answered with a wink. “But even more so outside of it.”

“Whatever you say, Dr. Feel Good,” she snarked back, aggressively shoving down the mental image of him in a well-fitting pair of scrubs. 

Wait — did physical therapists even wear scrubs? she wondered. Not that it mattered, anyway, since she absolutely did not care what he did or didn’t wear in his office.

“It’s Dr. Hernández, actually,” Cassian retorted, a smirk forming on his full lips, “but as long as Dr. Feel Good can make you feel good, I won’t complain about what you call me.”

Nesta aggressively rolled her eyes. “If that’s the best you can come up with, I need something stronger to drink.”

Cassian laughed, watching as Nesta got up from the couch and made her way into the kitchen. She had every intention of mixing herself the strongest drink she could whip up, only to nearly walk right into Gwyn and Azriel. Nesta caught sight of one freckled hand beginning a slow ascent under Azriel’s dark shirt and that was more than enough for her tonight. 

Nope, Nesta thought, turning around and immediately going back the way she’d come.

“What, you couldn’t find something strong enough?” Cassian teased once Nesta was nearly to the couch. He’d spread out in her absence and his thighs were spread enticingly wide, with just enough space for her to slide between if she’d wanted. 

Which she obviously didn’t. 

“The kitchen was… otherwise occupied,” Nesta answered after a moment, much to Cassian’s clear amusement.

“If you want to traumatize them back, I am very down,” he replied with a low chuckle. 

She just rolled her eyes, ignoring every image her brain conjured up that involved his hands on her. “I’m going home, where my eyes will be safe and my liquor accessible.”

“Don’t miss me too much,” he responded, winking. 

“Believe me,” Nesta told him with an unimpressed look, “that won’t be a problem. Good night, Cassian.”

“Good night, sweetheart,” Cassian said. 

Nesta didn’t bother trying to get him to stop with the pet names. She was too concerned with pretending she didn’t feel the weight of his gaze on her as she gathered her shoes and coat and strategically retreated back to the safety of her bedroom.

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[luveline]

i love the idea of Eddie in the zombie au!!!! i think you've mentioned the reader being rougher/tougher in this one and maybe they meet already in the campus or sometime on the road but r has been on their own for a while and Eddie is like the first person they can rely on in some time??

thank you for your request!! i apologise I wrote this as fem!reader before I realised you said ‘they’ later on, so if that isn’t okay with you please let me know/ send another request! <3

Eddie's trying not to stare at you, but he finds you attractive in the awe-striking way. You're ignoring his staring, crouched down by the crate beside him, counting cans under your breath. 

"Seventy two," you say. "How many did you say we needed to eat every day, Eds?"

You really shouldn't call him Eds. You're giving him a you-shaped complex, what with your nice smile (though he doesn't get to see it all the time) and your quite frankly distracting muscles. You're tougher than Eddie by far. He can't believe he had to end up in the middle of the apocalypse to find his dream girl, but here you are. 

"Eddie," you say, nudging him. "What was the math?" 

"Well, calorific intake wise, uh… it's twenty five hundred for men and twenty for women, but that didn't feel fair. It depends on what's in the cans–" 

"You said all this already," you say, "could I get the short answer?" 

"Like, three if we want to stay healthy-ish. Three each, so six a day." 

"Awesome. Twelve days, then." 

"But I think we should eat two. You know, insurance until we can go back for that second crate." 

You sit down on your ass heavily. "Okay, awesome. When are we going back? Tonight?" 

"You have a sprained wrist." 

You roll it in his face. "This old thing? She's fine." 

"It's not fine. Your wrist was the size of a coconut three days ago."

"Eddie, you treat me like a baby," you say. 

You stretch out onto his sheets and his twin mattress on the floor, which is great, he can't wait for the agony of being able to smell you tonight on his pillow, he really can't. You've taken your shoes off for once, three pairs of socks to your calves over your jeans like a weirdo and two t-shirts worn as though that's a regular thing to do. You haven't once needed Eddie's help since he found you, nor has he really needed yours, but you've looked out for him without complaint, sharing your food, letting him follow you from place to place. 

He thinks, despite your tougher persona, that you quite like the company. You like him, which is brilliant, because Eddie's lowkey planning your wedding in his head. Something classy, barefoot on the beach maybe, he won't wear a suit (when would he ever) and you probably wouldn't want to wear a white dress, but he's sure there's something you'd like. 

"You have your head in the clouds again," you say. 

"No," he denies. 

He lays back on your mattress and tries to move aside your dirty t-shirt without chasing a fuss. You're not shy about privacy, as in, you don't want any. Obviously you don't force him to bear all nor do you force him to see anything he doesn't want to see, but it's been a shock sometimes to turn around and find you've taken off your shirt to lounge in your bra. The summer heat is disgusting, layer thick and suffocating as insulation no matter how many windows you risk opening in the house above. 

"Don't be mean, tell me what you're thinking about," you say. 

Where to start? Your tight biceps, your theoretical wedding, or your shirtlessness? 

"I was thinking we shouldn't bother going back tonight for the second crate. We need to sleep. I need to feel like a normal person." 

"You're far from normal." 

"Says you." 

"If I were a boy," you say, "you wouldn't think anything about it. I'd be super normal." 

"It's not about being a girl," he says, grabbing one of your pillows to throw at you. You grab it quickly and throw it straight back. 

"What is it about, jerk?" you ask. 

"I don't care if you're a girl, I care that you're, like, the bravest person I've ever met." 

"Now I feel bad for chucking a pillow at you." 

"You're really cool. So, can we please go to bed early?" 

"Oh, right. Yeah, swap with me. Sorry if I made your bed smell bad. Tomorrow we need to find some more soap." 

"You don't smell bad," he says. "You know I usually tell you." 

It's not fun or pleasant to run out of deodorant these days. You must keep a small pharmacy in your bag, but soap is on rations. 

"You do tell me. Eddie…" You sit up. "I really don't smell bad?" 

"Not today." 

"I can give you a hug, then?" you ask. 

"Sorry?" 

"Eddie. I've met lots of people since the end of the world," —you sit up on knees, your hands outstretched gently, fingers apart— "like, so many people, but you're the only person I ever stayed with, because you're good, and you're nice. I trust you to take care of me, and I really want to give you a hug." 

"I don't think you need taking care of," he mumbles. 

You shuffle toward him where he hikes on elbows. Without shame, you wrap your arms around him and hug him close. "But if I needed you to, you would… Right?" 

"Right," he says. He starts carefully but his body must realise someone's close, someone who wants to be held, and suddenly he's hugging you tightly, his back straining in the position. He holds you far longer than he should, worried you'll pull away and see his blushing face. "Of course I would. You're the last person I'd imagine needing looking after, but yeah, I'd do it. I'd love to do it."

"Well," you say quietly, adjusting your cheek against his, "what are we going to do about my wrist?" 

"It's hurting, isn't it? I fucking knew it." 

You lean back onto your haunches, laughing. "Like a bitch. Not when you were squeezing it." 

"You need pressure. I'll wrap a bandage around it. You'll be fine in a day or two." 

You stand up in search of the first aid kit no doubt. Eddie smiles like a loon while your back is turned, flustered by your warm hug and soft touches. It was better than he's pictured. He wonders when you'll hug him again. 

"Eddie? I'm really sorry, but you smell bad." 

"Yikes," he says. Kill me now, he thinks. "Thanks for your honesty." 

You laugh. "Welcome."