#so I couldn't breathe through there either

[punkshort]

Swept Away: Season Two

Prologue: Two Rings

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: To celebrate taking a step forward in your relationship and moving in together, Joel charters a yacht for the night. He couldn't possibly have an ulterior motive, right?

Chapter Warnings: language, reader has a strained relationship with her parents, smut (18+ MDNI), fluff, unprotected piv sex, oral sex f! and m!receiving, multiple orgasms, reader has at least shoulder length hair, food and alcohol consumption

WC: 7.7K

Series Masterlist

"Reschedule it for next week. I made a promise."

Seven days never flew by so fast.

Joel had been pacing around his house like a caged animal all morning. It was Saturday, but he still took a few work calls just as a distraction. It didn't help much. He found his hand drifting to his pocket every two minutes where a flawless diamond ring in an expensive box was kept.

A couple months prior he had woke up early with you curled up against his side. There wasn't anything particularly exceptional about that day. It was a workday, he remembered that much. It was raining, which was unusual for Los Angeles. But on that day he woke up and looked at you sleeping so peacefully in his bed and it hit him out of nowhere: he wanted to wake up like that for the rest of his life. He had never felt more certain about anything.

He quickly ran into a problem, however. You technically already had an engagement ring. One that was used as a prop, although a very fucking real and very fucking expensive prop, back when you first met and accompanied him to Fiji. He had hired you through a dating agency that specialized in catering to higher end clients like himself. His needs were slightly unusual, however. He had wanted you to pose as his fiancée with the stipulation you weren't to breathe a word about your fake arrangement to anybody in order to win over a real estate tycoon and bid for the last parcel of land on the island.

Behind closed doors, you had your separate rooms.

It was temporary. It was only supposed to be one month and he would never see you again.

It made him laugh now to think about it. He didn't stand a chance. You had him hooked from the moment you stepped into his office with your quick wit and no-bullshit attitude. It took him a while to accept it, but once he did, he never looked back.

When you returned from the island, Joel insisted you keep the ring, which you'd worn on your right hand ever since. He went back and forth over it for weeks. Should he get you a new ring, or should he use the old one and propose to you properly?

He was going to let you decide. Either way, they were both yours, which he anticipated fielding an argument over as you still struggled to adjust to your new, lavish lifestyle with him.

As he looked out the window at the moving truck and two cars puttering up the long driveway, he wondered if he should have spaced things out a little for your benefit. Asking you to marry him on the same day you were moving into his home might be a lot for you to handle all at once. But then he saw you step out of your beat up car, one he planned to replace as soon as possible, and smiled at the excitement written on your face.

He was about to step away and go downstairs to greet you when he saw your mother and father step out of the second car. He froze for a moment, an unexpected jolt of nerves rocking through his chest. He hadn't met your parents before and when you told them you would be moving in together, they suddenly decided to drop everything and travel all the way from Tennessee to help you pack your things.

You thought it was a nice gesture given your delicate relationship with them, but he knew better. They were worried about you and they wanted to make sure he wasn't some psycho coming along to take advantage of their only daughter.

He didn't blame them one bit and he suspected he would behave similarly when Sarah met somebody one day. But he knew how he came off to people. He had a tendency to be gruff and a little cold. It was the by-product of a few horribly failed relationships, as well as years and years of cutthroat business deals. Anyone would have to be hardened to get to where he was in his career.

Still, he intended on making a good impression. These were your parents and, hopefully, his future in-laws. He wouldn't let anything screw this up.

"Honey?"

"In here, Mom!" you called from Joel's master bathroom. Your master bathroom now.

Your mother appeared in the doorway, eyes bugging out of her head when she took in the sizable room. A crystal clear glass shower that could easily fit two people, something you and Joel had already proven more than once, sat in one corner with a built in granite bench and custom tile walls imported from Italy. In the opposite corner was a massive claw foot tub that sat in front of a huge window overlooking the breathtaking ocean view from Joel's backyard. Currently, you sat on the floor in front of the double sinks built into the white marble countertop going through your boxes of toiletries.

"My goodness," your mom breathed with a hand pressed gently against her chest. "Why on earth would he have a tub right in front of a window? Anybody could see you bathing!"

"It's one sided," you giggled. "You can see out but no one can see in."

Her face relaxed and she took a step into the room, making a surprised little noise when she felt the warmth emanating from the tile floor.

"It's heated," you explained before she could ask. She nodded slowly and continued to look around in awe.

"I see."

You could hear her tone, a tone you had grown too familiar with your whole life. She wasn't pleased.

"What's wrong?" you asked, setting down your bags of makeup so you could give her your full attention. She bit her lip nervously before quickly shutting the bathroom door and joining you on the ground.

"Don't you think all this is a little... much?"

You frowned. "Much?"

"This lifestyle is what I mean. This isn't you, honey," your mom said with a soothing squeeze of your arm.

"No, but I'm getting used to it," you said defensively. "This is what Joel is used to and I love him. It doesn't bother me so much, it's just an adjustment."

"He's got a whole staff to tend to this place," she continued with a low voice. "I saw a gardener and a pool boy. Don't tell me he has a maid, too."

"Well, yeah, he does-"

Your mother's jaw dropped with a disbelieving snort.

"He can't pick up after himself?"

"He doesn't have to! He's paying someone to do it for him! Besides, he's very busy. He works long hours every day to afford all this. Why should he-"

"It humbles a person to be able to cook and clean for themselves," your mother said firmly. "It builds character."

"Mom," you whined, "it's different out here and you know it. This isn't Tennessee. Most homes have some hired help, it's just how it is."

"Well, I was just envisioning a different life for my only child, don't come for my head about it," she huffed while straightening her skirt.

"No one's coming for your head, I'm just trying to explain how people live out here. It's different but I really like it. And most of all, I'm happy. I love Joel, Mom, more than anything. And he loves me, too. He treats me well, he cares for me... he's a good man," you finished softly. Your parents never liked the idea of you moving to the west coast with your best friend, Celine, for college. It unknowingly deepened the rift between you and them that you had been trying to mend for years.

"Well, I suppose he does seem rather charming. He has nice manners, at least," she sighed. You thought back to the lunch the four of you had shared not an hour earlier, finding it surprising that your mother found something nice to say about Joel at all given the uncomfortable atmosphere. To his credit, Joel really tried. He asked your parents about their jobs and their church. He even shared some stories about himself, trying to find some common ground, but your parents hardly offered anything in return and it irked you.

"Then why were you and Dad so stand-offish during lunch?" you asked pointedly.

"We were not-"

"Yes, you were," you argued back before she could lie. "I was sitting right there. Why don't you like Joel, Mom?"

She sighed and looked around the ornate bathroom again before floating her hands in the air.

"We just aren't used to all this, sweetie. It's a lot for us. Your father feels uncomfortable around all of this... grandeur."

"Well, do you think you can try a little harder? For me?" you asked, sounding exasperated. "All of this stuff shouldn't matter as long as I'm happy, right?"

After a beat, she slowly nodded.

"You're right. I'm sorry. I'll talk to your father."

"Thank you," you breathed with a small smile. "Now, can you please help me with the last of these boxes?"

She grinned and pulled the last one over to open it up. "Of course," she said, then made a face at the way everything inside was tossed about. "You're lucky none of these things are broken. You pack like a maniac, honey."

You laughed and pushed yourself onto your knees to get a better look inside the box.

"Well, guess it's a good thing you and Dad helped out with the important stuff."

"That reminds me, the boxes for your office are still in the foyer. Dad packed all of that for you," she said while taking out a few bottles of shampoo. "You know him, properly organizing everything. He's retired but he's still labeling and sorting everything in the house like he's working a case." Your father, a recently retired police detective, always had an attention to detail. "He said your important looking work documents were all in one box he marked fragile."

"Oh, great, thank you. I think Joel's still having one of the bedrooms converted into an office space for me so I'll have to ask him where to store it for now," you said, pausing when your mother gave you a look.

"One of the bedrooms?" she repeated. "How many does he need?"

"Mom! You said you'd try!"

"You're right, you're right, I'm sorry," she said with a light laugh. Then she stood with an armful of items. "Where should I put all this?"

"That door right there is a walk-in linen closet."

You noticed her eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the spacious linen closet, but you let it go. Your relationship with them was still a little rocky and you didn't want to press the matter. She said she and your father would try to get used to Joel's lifestyle, so you had to give her time to follow through on her promise.

Your parents left for the airport in the late afternoon. After your tense conversation with your mother, you were ashamed to admit you were a little relieved that their visit had come to an end. But when you saw both your mom and dad give Joel a hug before they left, you softened up a bit, even if their hugs were a little stiff. They promised they would try and that was all you could ask for, even though Joel didn't deserve to be treated unfairly in the slightest. As their car disappeared down the winding driveway, you had visions of all the ways you could make it up to him, but then he surprised you with some unexpected plans.

"You chartered a yacht?" you exclaimed. "Why? To mark the occasion?"

Joel thought about it for half a second.

"Yeah. I wanted to celebrate," he said smoothly while sliding his hands around your waist. "We got it overnight so pack a small bag."

You squealed with delight and grabbed his face to pull him down for a quick kiss. When you turned to hurry back inside, he swatted you lightly on the ass, making you yelp and then giggle your way up the stairs towards your shared bedroom.

The marina was absolutely beautiful at sunset. The last golden rays from the sun reflected off the water as you approached, spreading flashes of deep purples, pinks and greens across the horizon. Joel had insisted on driving you both himself, something that surprised you but you shrugged off, assuming he wanted to allow his driver, Richie, to enjoy the weekend.

"We have this entire yacht?" you asked, mouth agape as you approached a huge two story charter.

"Yep," he had replied, pleased with your reaction. Two crew members had met you at the car and grabbed your bags, leaving your hands free to walk carefully across the bridge to board the yacht. You smiled bashfully when the crew of eight introduced themselves, then tucked yourself into Joel's side as the captain gave you a quick tour. When he paused in the doorway of the master suite to point out all the amenities, you shot Joel a playful look and waggled your eyebrows. He stifled a laugh and rolled his eyes before kissing the top of your head and following the captain through the lounge and to the deck, where there had to have been what looked like a hundred candles lit on every available surface. The sight took your breath away, it was so stunning. Flickering candlelight reflected off the polished wood and glassware that sat atop the table, already prepped and ready for you to be served once you got out onto the open water.

"Pink roses?" you said when you spotted the centerpiece as well as the decorative adornments that were peppered throughout the deck. You leaned in to sniff them and closed your eyes.

"I know you like the pink ones the best," Joel replied as he watched you look around in wonder. Then your eyes found his again and you smiled.

"When did you become such a romantic, Joel Miller?"

His heart skipped a beat in his chest when he replied, "When I met you."

While the yacht made its way a few miles off shore, the two of you found the bar inside the lounge and shared some drinks in front of the small fireplace while soft, classical music filtered through the speakers hidden strategically throughout the room. In the left corner of the room sat a white baby grand piano, sparkling but untouched. To the right was the bar, tended by a discreet looking gentleman with greying hair.

"You know what this reminds me of?" Your leg was draped across his lap and he was drawing slow circles over your calf, but his movements paused when you asked your question.

Joel grinned and nodded, pulling his eyes away from the flames to look at you.

"Glenn's yacht?"

You smiled and leaned in closer.

"Yep," you said, lowering your voice so the bartender couldn't overhear. "Remember the last night we were there?"

Joel bit back a groan at the memory of you on top of him, practically begging him to fuck you, but he had refused. That didn't stop you from finding another way to drive him completely insane. Instead, you had gotten yourself off by riding his thigh. It was the first time the two of you had blurred that line from a business relationship to something more.

"Yeah. Yeah, I remember," he murmured. Your eyes looked heavy as you gazed up at him and it took every ounce of strength he had not to toss you over his shoulder and take you back to the master suite right then and there. Instead, he pulled you in for a deep kiss, tasting the sweetness of champagne on your tongue.

His hand drifted back to get lost in your hair when you both heard someone nearby softly clearing their throat. You pulled away and let your gaze sheepishly fall while Joel handled the crew member who had come to let you know that dinner was about to be served.

"Oops," you whispered once the they were out of sight. A low rumble of laughter bubbled up from his chest and once you stood, he tugged you against him and cupped your face.

"Don't worry. Place'll be all ours after dinner," Joel told you. He gave you a quick kiss before curving his arm around your shoulders so he could lead you out towards the deck.

"Wha - Joel! We - we can't drive this thing!"

He chuckled at the panic in your voice. "Just for the evening. They'll drop anchor and be back in the morning. I ain't gonna get us killed, baby."

"Oh," you breathed a sigh in relief. He pulled your chair out and you sat down primly, glancing down at the complicated looking appetizer that waited for you. A small smile played at your lips when you asked, "And why are they leaving overnight, Joel?"

He sat down across from you and flicked out his cloth napkin with a wink.

"You'll see."

Dinner was elaborate and rich, but you had grown used to that with Joel. You had lost count of how many courses they brought out but when a cheese plate was placed between you after the main dish, you gave him a pained look.

"Joel?"

"Hmm?" he hummed while taking a sip of red wine. Your fingers inched across the white linen tablecloth, seeking out his hand. When his own fingers linked with yours and curled around your knuckles, you smiled at him tiredly.

"This is lovely," you began, "but I'm wondering when I'll get my dessert."

"Dessert's after the limoncello," he assured you. He shifted a little nervously in his chair and adjusted his tie. His mind was elsewhere but you had no idea.

"That's not the kind of dessert I meant," you whispered. You saw the realization dawn on him and you stifled a giggle. He leaned forward, hands still intertwined, and picked up a piece of cheese. He held it out between his thumb and forefinger and as seductively as you could, slowly stretched your neck forward to wrap your lips around his fingers and the small cube, all while maintaining eye contact with Joel.

"Good?"

You nodded and swallowed. "But I know something that tastes better."

"Christ," he groaned, eyes darkening as heat began to spread under his collar. Subconsciously, his finger began to slide your ring back and forth, fiddling with it. He wanted to just ask you right then and there. Just take the thing off and put it on your other hand and say the fucking words. But he had to wait. He had a plan.

Mercifully, dessert finally arrived. Actual dessert. Tiramisu, to be exact. But you were growing restless. He could tell by the way you sighed and tugged at the straps of your dress or flicked your hair over your shoulder to rub your neck with a soft moan. You were trying to get him to break and it was working magnificently. It had him checking his watch and mentally doing the math, trying to figure out if he had enough time to fuck you before his plan was set into motion.

The crew was packing up somewhere in the depths of the yacht. The captain had just left your table after confirming with Joel whether or not he needed anything else, and the anticipation of having the boat all to yourselves was killing you. But when he stood and extended a hand, asking you to join him on the deck instead of dragging you back to the bedroom, you hesitated. He grinned and wiggled his fingers.

"C'mon. Trust me."

You did. Of course, you did. So you stood and let him take your hand, leading you out onto the deck which was alight with flameleas candles and string lights wrapped around all the railings. A small seating area sprinkled with rose petals awaited you, the sight causing your suspicions to stir.

"All this to celebrate moving in together?" you asked. Joel didn't respond. He just smiled and sat down on the plush couch, which was facing the vast, empty ocean, and patted the seat next to him. Slowly, you sat down and leaned into his side before scanning the water. The moon was full that night and blazed a bright beam of light across the sea. It was quiet and serene and had you melting into his chest as his arms wrapped around you.

"It's peaceful," you murmured. In the distance, you could hear the soft hum of a motor from the boat taking the crew back to shore. Joel glanced nervously at his watch and you frowned. Tilting your chin up a bit, you caught his eye.

"What's going on?"

"Nothin'," he said immediately in response, only furthering your suspicions. You shifted so you could get a better look at his face.

"Why are you checking the time? What's-"

"You want somethin' to drink? I can get it for you," he interrupted. Okay, now you knew something was up. His fingers were tapping rhythmically against his leg, which was bouncing so fast the deck was creaking.

"No," you said, "Joel, why are you acting-"

A loud boom muffled the rest of your sentence, which ended up being a scream, anyway. Then a flash of color appeared in the sky above your heads and you looked up in surprise. Fireworks. There were fireworks going on above you, being set off from a barge somewhere you couldn't see on the water.

"Joel," you breathed in between booms. You looked at him and he grinned. "You did this?"

He nodded and said, "Wanted to do somethin' special."

"This is too much!" But you laughed and jumped when another firework popped in the sky, undermining any scolding on your part.

Your curiosity vanished, successfully distracted by the fireworks display. Joel curled an arm around your shoulders and you sunk against him once again with your back pressed against his front. You tipped your head back to rest on his shoulder so you could watch the fireworks, completely missing the way his heart began to beat faster against your back when he reached for your hands, which were resting in your lap.

Thinking he was just holding your hand, you shot him a quick smile before refocusing your attention on the sky. Maybe it was the drinks you had with dinner, but you hadn't even realized he slid your ring off your right hand until he held it up. Your gaze dropped down to look at it pinched between his fingers and your eyebrows knit together. The huge diamond sparkled with the reflection from the fireworks, all the reds, blues, and yellows shining within every flawless carat.

"Joel?" you said quietly. So quietly that it was impossible to hear over the loud booms.

Then you saw the tremble in his hand that held your ring and your eyes widened with a slow realization: the private yacht, the fancy dinner, the fireworks... this wasn't an evening designed to celebrate moving in together. This was something else.

Joel lifted your left hand from your lap and adrenaline began to course through your whole body. Your ability to blink and breathe just... vanished. Time might have even stood still as you stared down at your hands, watching in disbelief as he carefully slid your ring onto your left finger. Then you felt his beard brush against the shell of your ear from behind.

"Looks better on this hand. What do you think?"

Tears welled up in your eyes almost immediately. You splayed your fingers out in front of you both to look at the ring on your hand, but your vision blurred and your hand shook worse than his. Then two fingers found your chin, tilting your face to the side so he could look you in the eye.

"I wanna spend my life with you," he murmured softly. Your lower lip began to tremble and your heart stuttered in your chest, but you did your best to focus on his words. "You changed everythin', sweetheart. Changed my entire life. Brought me back together with my brother, with my daughter... reminded me what it's like to enjoy life again." His own eyes grew misty when he gave you a small smile and added, "Made me believe in love."

You laughed a little and two fat tears trickled down your cheeks.

"I've never known a peace like the one I have when I'm with you," he whispered. He was talking softly but even with the fireworks still going off above your heads, you could hear every word, almost as if the entire world melted away in that moment and all that remained was just the two of you.

His eyes looked so warm as he stared at you. They were so adoring and vulnerable. It made you want to crawl into his lap, wrap your arms around him, and never let him go. But you wanted to hear the words. You were desperate to hear the question you longed to hear, so you bit harshly into your bottom lip and fought back the desire.

Finally, he dragged in a ragged breath and asked, "Will you marry me?"

"Yes!" you sobbed, and it was like the floodgates opened. You flipped around and tossed one leg over his lap to straddle him, missing the way his face beamed with excitement when you grabbed his cheeks with both hands and kissed him. Your tongue slid easily between his parted lips, catching his groan between your teeth. When your thumbs brushed over his cheeks, you felt dampness there. Tears. Shortly after, your own streaked down your face, but you couldn't stop smiling.

The fireworks were probably coming to an end, you couldn't really be sure. You were too lost in your little bubble, perched on Joel's lap with his hands fiercely gripping your waist. You couldn't remember if it was you who started to grind your hips into him or if his hands had urged you to move. Regardless, within just a few short minutes, you found yourself dragging your pussy up and down his thigh while your kisses grew more and more urgent.

"C'mon, let's go inside," he panted while you sprinkled kisses down his jaw. When he tried to pull you off him, you shook your head and pushed your knees deeper into the cushion, keeping you both planted in place.

"No - here," you murmured before hiking up the skirt of your dress so it pooled loosely around your waist, freeing your legs to spread even wider. Joel groaned when his chin dropped to his chest, watching as you pulled your panties to the side with two fingers. You bit your lip and swiped your fingers through your folds while he nearly ripped his belt open with shaky hands. He had just unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock, already hard and leaking, when you pressed your glistening fingers against his lips. His blood was pumping so fast, he was growing lightheaded, and when he parted his lips to taste your arousal on your fingertips, his eyes fluttered shut and his head dropped to the back of the couch in a daze.

"Dirty girl," he rasped after he licked your fingers clean. You smirked and reached down between your bodies to wrap your hand around his aching cock. He made a soft noise in the back of his throat and opened his eyes so he could watch you stroke him up and down.

His hands squeezed your hips and encouraged you forward, unable to wait any longer. Fortunately, you couldn't, either. You lined him up against your entrance and removed your hand, the only sounds that filled the air now that the fireworks were over was your shared heavy breaths and the water lightly lapping at the side of the yacht.

"It's why you sent the crew away, right?" you breathed as you slowly sunk down on his cock. "So you could fuck me wherever you wanted?"

A strangled groan slipped past his lips when you began to shift ever so slightly, the feeling of your tight cunt wrapped around him taking his breath away.

"Didn't want them to hear," he replied through clenched teeth. "Didn't think you'd - fuck - didn't think you'd be so fuckin' needy so fast."

The fact he really thought you wouldn't want to jump him as fast as possible after he proposed was laughable, and you told him so as you began to bounce quicker in his lap, gasping when the tip of his cock kissed your cervix.

Joel just chuckled breathlessly and clutched your hips harder, helping you glide up and down his shaft.

"Ain't got nothin' to do with it. You wanted me to fuck you halfway through dinner."

"Is that such a bad thing?" you moaned, arching your back when his hips began to buck up into you. You grappled frantically at his shoulders and tipped your head back with a sharp gasp, leaving you with a beautiful view of twinkling stars above you.

With your throat exposed, Joel lunged forward to suck a red mark just below your jaw. You smelled so good and your skin was so soft that it had him sitting up straighter so he could gain better access.

"God, Joel!" you cried out into the night sky. His hands grabbed at your ass, fingers digging roughly into each cheek, forcing your body up and down on his cock while he slammed into you, knocking all the oxygen from your lungs and every thought from your brain.

"Gonna make the perfect little wife, baby," he growled, teeth scraping lightly down your jaw. Wife. The word sent a thrill through you.

"Yeah?" you gasped, eyelids fluttering as you felt yourself nearing your peak. "You think so?"

"Mhm," Joel murmured into your neck. "Love you so much, love you so fuckin' much, y'make me so happy. Just wanna spend my life takin' care of you, give you everythin' you need."

He was rambling now and a lazy smile stretched across your face.

"I love you, too," you whispered before tilting your head down to capture his lips in a searing, messy kiss.

Your hips stuttered and your moans grew more high pitched each time you dropped yourself back down on his cock. And because he knew you so well, he grinned against your mouth and murmured, "You gonna come for me?"

"Yeah," you whined in between heated kisses. Your hands clawed at his face and hair and you gasped shakily every time your clit rubbed against the curls at the base of his shaft. "Yeah, yeah I'm - I'm gonna come," you breathed, too lost in your own pleasure to say much else except repeat him, so fucking close that all it took was one or two more deep thrusts and it sent you reeling into your climax.

You tightened around him with a silent scream. Your brows were furrowed and your mouth hung open against his as your orgasm rocked through your entire body. Boneless, you drooped against him, nuzzling into his neck. He pulled you in tight against his chest while fucking up into you recklessly until he let out a deep groan and his body stilled.

"Look." Joel tapped your shoulder, stirring you back to life. You forced your eyes open and followed his gaze down where you were connected. A second later you watched as a small amount of his thick, milky white release dribbled out of you, pooling at the base of his cock.

Unable to put into words how hot it was to watch yourself overflow with him, your mouth greedily found his, tongue probing past his lips with a moan.

You sat there for as long as he would allow, limp and spent while sharing wet, lazy kisses until his cock softened and he slipped out of you with a grunt. The palm of his hand was soothingly rubbing your back and you had never felt more content in your life, but when a sharp breeze drifted over the ocean and made you shiver, Joel broke the kiss and cupped your face.

"Let's go to bed."

You nodded sleepily and allowed him to lead you back into the yacht, through the abandoned lounge that still played classical music faintly through the hidden speakers, down the well lit hallway, and finally to the master suite. The bed had been turned down by one of the crew members before they left. A bottle of champagne with two glasses with a note that read congratulations! was left next to the bed, but you were too exhausted. It was a miracle you were able to wash up and change out of your clothes before slipping into the plush bedding, but you stayed awake until Joel had turned out all the lights and joined you. With a sigh, you curled up next to him, resting your cheek on his shoulder and slotting your leg between his, then finally drifted off to sleep.

The clock read a little after three in the morning when you awoke. You were in the same position you found yourself before falling asleep hours earlier: fitted snugly into Joel's side with your palm placed gently over his heart. You used the bathroom and drank some much needed water but you had trouble falling back asleep, so you perched on the bench by the window and watched the way your ring shone in the moonlight.

It took you back in time when you saw the ring on your left hand again. Memories of confusing feelings, devastating rejection, fake love stories and intense pain flickered through your mind when you thought back to the whirlwind month you spent with Joel in Fiji, masquerading as his fiancée.

But now, it was real.

Now, that lie, that story, was going to become reality.

You couldn't have been happier. After everything you had been through, all the ups and downs your relationship faced from the very beginning, you were finally going to get your much deserved happy ending.

You just wished your parents and their opinions would stop plaguing your mind.

"What're you doin'?" Joel's groggy voice called from the bed. You snapped your head up in surprise, just to find him sitting on the edge of the bed and rubbing his eyes.

"Nothing. Sorry. I couldn't sleep. Too excited," you grinned when holding up your left hand. His eyes hadn't yet adjusted to the darkness, so he reached over to flick on one small lamp next to the bed. The room was cast in a dim, yellow glow, but he saw you holding up your hand and he smiled.

Joel stood and took two steps forward when he froze. Something passed over his face that had you frowning with concern.

"What's wrong?"

"I - shit!" he exclaimed before turning on his heel and rummaging through his suit coat, which he abandoned across a chair on the other side of the room when you came to bed. You cocked your head to the side and allowed yourself a moment to appreciate how fucking handsome your fiancé was, bending over in just a tight pair of black boxer briefs. Your gaze flickered back up when he swiveled around, holding a small, black box in his hand.

"I got you a new ring," he said as he crossed the room, "I'm so sorry. Forgot to give it to you earlier 'cause, well -" he shrugged and shot you a playful grin. "Y'know."

"A new ring?" you repeated as you stood. "W-why? I have this one!"

He opened the box and you gasped when you saw the flawless cushion cut, crystal clear diamond engagement ring, which was bracketed by two smaller diamonds.

"Joel," you breathed, eyes flitting back and forth between the one in the box and the one already on your hand. "I-I can't! I can't have two!"

Joel chuckled and plucked it from the box.

"Why not? You got ten fingers."

You scoffed and shook your head, but he continued.

"I wanted you to have the option and I wanted to get you somethin' new," he explained while holding it out towards you. You stared at it, still in shock, but stopped yourself from reaching for it.

"You know..." you began slyly. Joel arched an eyebrow at your tone. "You never actually did get on one knee."

His hand dropped to his side and he narrowed his eyes.

"You want me on my knees?"

You bit your lip and nodded vigorously, and when he held your gaze and began to sink down to the ground, still clad in just his underwear, your heart began to do flips in your chest.

On one knee, he murmured your name lowly and reached for your hand. You gave him your right one and grinned when he slipped it onto your finger and asked, "Will you marry me?" for the second time.

"Yes," you whispered. You took a step forward and carded your fingers through his hair. Joel leaned into your touch and briefly closed his eyes, enjoying the way your nails scraped gently over his scalp.

"I see the appeal, now," you said softly, "having a man fall to his knee like this."

"Yeah?" he rasped, opening his eyes to give you a heated look. Then his fingers drifted up your legs to push up the satin nightgown you had slipped on earlier and your breath caught in your throat.

"Get used to it, baby, 'cause I'm ready to spend the rest of my life right fuckin' here." He leaned forward, pressing his face right between your legs and taking a deep breath before mouthing hungrily at your waiting cunt through your panties. You gasped, skin tingling, and fell forward almost instantly, hands sliding helplessly over his bare back while he held you up with his hands wrapped around your thighs.

With one swift turn to the left, he pushed you up against the wall and tugged your underwear down your legs. Tossing them somewhere behind him, he lifted one of your legs to drape over his shoulder, spreading your pussy underneath your hiked up nightie.

His fingers dug into your skin when his mouth came in contact with your center, groaning in delight to find you already so wet and eager for him.

Joel's jaw dropped open wide, sealing his lips over your slit and running the tip of his tongue up the middle. Your vision immediately blurred and you threw your head back against the wall in ecstasy. The scrape of his beard against your sensitive skin, the feel of his fingertips dimpling your thighs, the way his hot tongue laved over your cunt all had you reduced to a trembling mess in a matter of minutes.

You wailed out his name into the room, your voice echoing off the walls and suddenly Joel's plan to send away the crew was making a lot of sense.

"More," you whined while rolling your hips as much as you could without losing your balance. The one foot that remained on the ground was stretched, perching on your tiptoes, while the other was curled tightly over his shoulder, holding him in place.

His mouth released you with a gasp and you whimpered pathetically at the loss while your fingers clawed uselessly at his hair.

"C'mon, let's move to the bed. Want you to sit on my face."

His voice was deep and gravelly and it send a shudder through your limbs.

"No, please, Joel, I-I... I'm so close," you begged, looking down at him with watery eyes. He looked like a mess: disheveled hair, wet mouth, flushed neck. He scanned your face and relented, giving you want you wanted and diving back in between your thighs.

You immediately resumed rolling your hips against his face, chasing your high while his tongue slid messily between your lips over and over, collecting the arousal leaking from your hole and flicking over your clit teasingly each time he dragged his tongue back up.

"I'm- I'm gonna come," you gasped, unable to look away from how enthusiastically he ate at you. It was such a turn on to see such a wealthy and powerful man on his knees for you, a man people not only in his office but throughout the country cowered before. But not you. No, you had him wrapped tightly around your finger.

Well, two fingers now that he had gifted you a second ring.

It was the way Joel's lips wrapped around your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue over it with a deep groan that had you tumbling over the edge. Your body bent forward with the force of your release, curving over his back with your hands buried in his hair for leverage.

"Fuck, that's it," he whispered into your pussy before swiping his tongue through your slit again. Tears stung the backs of your eyes from the stimulation but you let him continue, trusting him implicitly.

There was no doubt in your mind you would find little circular bruises on your thighs later from the way he clutched at you. The thought of seeing those marks, of seeing the way he claimed you, had your stomach muscles tightening unexpectedly once again. You cried out weakly as another gush of fluid flooded his tongue, then shivered when you heard his surprised groan vibrate throughout your entire body.

"Jesus," you rasped, chest heaving, when he finally pulled away. His pupils were blown wide, making his eyes look nearly black in the dim lighting as he gazed up at you from his spot on the floor.

"So beautiful," he murmured breathlessly, dragging his wet lips over your thighs, kissing your bare skin and working his way up your stomach. His mouth brushed along the silky fabric of your pajamas until he reached the tops of your breasts. Once he found your warm skin again, he peppered kisses all across your chest and neck until he was finally standing upright and plunging his tongue greedily into your mouth.

His cock pressed hard and pulsating against your stomach while his tongue leisurely mapped your mouth, and your legs trembled from the idea of taking him inside your cunt again. You knew yourself. It would be way too much. You were exhausted and your muscles felt so weak, but you would be damned if you went to bed without taking care of him. So you broke the kiss, gave him a playful wink, then sunk to your knees between his body and the wall.

If he had any qualms about the change of plans, he didn't show it. He braced one hand against the wall and the other got lost in your hair when you peeled down the band of his boxer briefs and wrapped your hand around the base of his shaft. You dragged your fist up and down a few times, humming softly under your breath at how hard he was for you.

You locked eyes with him. He looked absolutely wrecked, leaning against the wall and looking down at you, jaw slack and eyes glazed over.

While still maintaining eye contact, you opened your mouth wide and slid your lips carefully around his girth, tongue swirling around the tip of his cock before taking him deeper. His hips shifted forward, gently pushing more of himself inside your mouth until he kissed the back of your throat. You gagged a little and pulled back, earning a chuckle from up above.

"Too much?"

All you were able to do was shake your head. Your mouth was full of him, sucking him deeper once again while taking steady breaths through your nose. Joel's fingers tightened in your hair when you began to bob up and down, hollowing your cheeks with one hand still fisting his base and the other gripping his thigh for support.

"Fuck yeah, that - that's good," he moaned. Your chest swelled from the praise so you kept going, keeping a steady rhythm, sliding your tongue up and down the length of him until your lips felt numb and your jaw ached, and even then, you kept going.

"Oh shit, baby, don't stop," he growled. His fist tugged at your hair a little harder than you expected and you gasped around him. Somewhere above you, his other arm collapsed against the wall, now relying on his forearm to keep him upright while you sucked his cock with the kind of enthusiasm that had his knees going weak and his stomach pulling tight.

His hips rocked forward, meeting you thrust for thrust, groaning your name as he watched himself disappear inside your mouth over and over. Your tongue was flat along the underside of his cock when you felt it pulse and a moment later he spilled down your throat, swallowing every drop of his hot, sticky release.

He was cursing breathlessly above you while you cleaned him up with your tongue, and it wasn't until his hips stuttered and he yanked you off him by the hair that you stopped.

"Christ," Joel whispered, sagging tiredly against the wall with his forehead pressing against his wrist after you kindly fixed his boxers for him. His eyes were squeezed shut and his lips were parted, sucking in air fast as he tried to catch his breath.

"Oughta propose to you more often," he panted with his eyes still closed. You giggled and stood, taking his hand. His eyelids fluttered open, allowing you to lead him back to bed.

"Please don't tell me you have a third ring somewhere," you said tiredly after you burrowed under the covers and he curled himself around you from behind. He chuckled and kissed the back of your neck.

"Nah, just two."

You smiled when he nuzzled your ear, his deep breathing already lulling you back to sleep.

"Where do you think we should get married?" you yawned, yearning to just hear his voice. His fingers searched for your hand resting across your stomach and he gave it a squeeze.

"Thought we already decided a year ago," he mumbled. His lips grazed the shell of your ear when he said:

"Fiji, baby."

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[artificial-transmutations]

Grunt Force Gamer

Friday evening, finally. After a rather stressful week at the office, Finn was looking forward to his favorite past-time activity, which was blasting through the missions of *Duty Force Alpha* with his buddies. He was a bit surprised though when he logged into the voice server to find only one of his teammates there, even though he was the one who was late.

"Hey Beck! Sorry I'm late. Where is everyone?" he asked.

Beck was the newest addition to the team and had only joined a few weeks ago, bringing them up to five guys, or a whole squad.

"Let's see..." the other guy answered.

"Joey has to help a friend to move, so he is out for tonight. Alex has to prepare a presentation for his work on Monday. And I haven't heard from Dave at all."

Finn groaned.

"So, probably girl trouble again." Dave had a history of disappearing without any trace for a couple of days, only to emerge again a few days later and explaining that he was on a date. It never seemed to work out in the long term, though.

"Anyway. What about you?"

"I'm game. Looks it's just the two of us tonight." said Beck, and Finn could vividly imagine the cocky grin of the other guy, even though their cams were off right now. Finn agreed and started up the game but couldn't stop his heart from beating faster. The thing about Beck was that he wasn't just the newest member of their team or a cool guy to hang out with. Beck was *also* rather hot, especially for a gamer, and every time he spoke, his voice alone was enough to send a chill down Finn's spine. In short, Finn had a hard crush on the other man, and the prospect of spending the evening alone with him - even though it was just digital proximity - was both exciting and frightening to him.

The trouble was: Finn knew borderline nothing about Beck at all. He knew they lived in the same city and his first name, but that was about it. He had no idea if Beck was into guys or if he was single - which Finn could hardly imagine either way - or what his type was. And, of course, he was way too shy to actually ask him.

Just as Finn logged onto the game server, Beck spoke up again.

"Ah fuck, I've got to go AFK for a few minutes again, sorry."

"Sure, no problem. I'll go get a snack as well."

Finn muted his microphone, but instead of going to the kitchen, he was quickly distracted by a message from the game, announcing a change in skill trees. As he was reading the patch notes, however, after some moments, he heard a strange noise from his headset. It sounded a bit like a quiet slapping sound, and while he was still trying to identify what it was, a faint moan reached his ears.

Oh. *Oh*! Finn froze as his brain connected the dots. Beck hadn't gone AFK in a broader sense. Well, his hands probably were off the keyboard, but...

His mind was racing, and his own cock was twitching. Beck was *jerking off* right now, and he had forgotten to mute his microphone. What now? He couldn't just sit here and listen to his teammate beat his meat, right? Perhaps he should give him some privacy and go get that snack.

On the other hand,... imagining the lean Beck stroking himself, probably watching some porn in his gaming chair was pretty hot, and Finn felt his own cock strain against his pants. He double checked his own microphone. Muted. Good. Finn felt his heart beating in his throat as he slowly fondled himself, not quite masturbating but listening to the increasingly labored breaths of his crush on the voice channel. He wondered what he was watching...

Suddenly, a coarse whisper joined the jerking noises and the moans.

"Oh yeah. Show me those big guns, Sarge. I bet your sexy biceps are so much bigger than your brain... Well, I wouldn't mind..."

No way! Beck wasn't just rubbing one out to a random porn video, but instead he was drooling over one of the game characters, Sarge, the meathead heavy type of the game.

But that meant...

Disappointment set in shortly after euphoria. Yes, that meant Beck was gay. But it also meant he preferred the more or less exact opposite of what Finn had to offer. He was a smart guy with a rather unimpressive physique - quite the contrast to Sarge, who was basically a meat mountain. In fact, Finn's character in *Duty Force Alpha* was the exact opposite of Sarge. It was a character class called 'Engineer', whose main feature was to build turrets to shoot down enemies.

But these were just game characters, right? A fantasy. Perhaps Beck didn't have those expectations in real life? Well, there was no way he would be able to ask him, not without giving away that he listened in on his masturbation session.

As if on cue, Beck was moaning loudly now, and with an almost grunting noise, the slapping stopped. He had finished, and Finn was hard. It took only a few seconds until the sound of his breath was gone, replaced by his normal voice.

"Hey, Finn. Did you get that snack?"

Finn decided to wait for two more minutes before unmuting his own microphone to keep up the charade.

"I'm back. Are you there, Beck?"

"Yeah, sorry man, I had to take care of something first. Anyway, let's get going!"

Taking care of something. You could say that. Beck chose his usual sniper character as if nothing had happened and Finn's mouse hovered over the engineer, but he hesitated. He knew Beck's fantasies rather well now. Perhaps if he tried to act a bit simpler... He clicked.

"No way! You're playing Sarge? What happened to your engi?" Beck's voice was surprised.

"Well, I..."

Finn cleared his throat, remembering that Beck apparently had the hots for the simple men.

"Heh, yeah, figured I'd mix things up a bit. These guys seem pretty... capable. And we need a bit of meat shield if it's just the two of us."

Adjusting his pattern of speech to what he thought was simple and cool was harder than expected. He found himself tripping over words more often than not, but if that had any effect on the other guy, he didn't show it immediately. He didn't ask further questions about his choice of character and the two of them went on their way, starting the first mission.

At first, Finn tried to play tactically, as he was used to by his engineer, but after half a mission, he reconsidered. Not only was Sarge simply not built for this playstyle, but he figured Beck would be more into another approach. So, he changed strategies completely and just charged into the enemies head-first and with blazing guns. This worked out remarkably well, and soon, Finn was having actual fun behaving like the meathead he was pretending to be. He even threw in a few grunts and battle cries for good measure that seemed to amuse Beck a lot.

"Sounds like someone is having fun with his new class!" he laughed after a particularly successful attack.

"Yeah. I'm just here to shoot and look pretty. No need to think of anything. Leave that to the smart guys. Like you. All I need is my guns."

The bit of boldness probably came from all the adrenalin, but it was getting easier to get into character now. In any case, Beck didn't seem to mind.

"Awesome man! So, what do you do when you're not gaming? Hit the gym much?"

Finn froze and almost got hit by an enemy assault as a consequence. Fuck! This was the first time Beck showed any interest in his personal life. But the honest answer to that would be 'no, never', clearly not what Beck wanted to hear. Against better judgment he had to lie.

"Uh... yeah, sometimes. Gotta stay in shape, y'know?", hoping that Beck would buy it.

"Nice! Hey, why don't you turn on your cam, show me those gains."

Crap. They sometimes played with their webcams on, that's how Finn knew how Beck looked like. However, since he had been sick and didn't want to turn on his own camera last time, Beck had not seen him before. And that was the only reason his bluff earlier could have worked.

"I don't know, I didn't clean my place..." he tried to evade, but it was no use.

"Aww, come on, man."

Beck had already turned on his camera and smiled into the lens, and Finn could see the handsome face he often dreamed of at night. That was, of course, too much for Finn to resist, and he turned on his camera, too, with a beating heart, expecting Beck to call him out on his lie.

But instead, Beck nodded approvingly.

"Yeah, nice. I can see your progress. You're looking pretty fit, man."

Finn just stared at the monitor for a moment. Given, the lighting wasn't all that good, but how on earth would Beck think he was looking *fit*? He inspected his own miniature image on the screen. Okay, yes, the shadows of the badly lit battle station worked in his favor here. With some fantasy, you could probably make out definition that Finn knew very well wasn't there in reality. Perhaps, Beck was just being polite.

"Uh, thanks." he said, before quickly adding "... bro." for the effect.

He felt a rush of excitement. Perhaps he would be really able to pull this off!

With the cams still on, he charged into the next pack of enemies, and watched Beck lean back into his gaming chair, giving Finn a good view of his own somewhat toned chest under his t-shirt.

"So, you got a girlfriend, Finn? Or are you more of a player?"

Fuck, more questions. His first impulse was to lie again, but no! If he wanted to have a shot with the other guy, he *had* to be honest here. He swallowed hard and answered with his eyes still lingering on Beck, trying to read his body language.

"N-no girlfriend. I'm... uh... not really into chicks."

That came out a lot less confident than he hoped. There was no sign of animosity in Beck, and even though thinking was somehow getting harder, rationally, Finn knew it was a good opportunity to ask him the same, exposing Becks own orientation. But he just couldn't bring himself to do it, so he chickened out and tried to change the subject.

"Anyway, did I tell you about this thing that happened at work the other day? I totally saved our asses by-"

He stopped again, suddenly remembering that he's supposed to play dumb.

"Uh, I mean, I dunno, it was pretty boring office stuff. Who cares about that shit, right?"

At least the lingo came a lot more naturally by now, and sometimes, Finn had to remind himself that it was a role he was playing. It was, right?

Beck raised an eyebrow, looking curious.

"Office stuff? Didn't know you worked in an office, Finn. Thought you were more of a hands-on kind of guy."

Shit! what a slip-up.

"Uh... yeah, uh... I actually am. I'm..."

Fuck, thinking was *hard*. He had to come up with something here, but his mind drew a blank until he looked back at the screen.

"... a soldier. Yeah, I'm in the army."

"Wait, you're a soldier? For real?"

Beck sounded impressed but Finn's heart was racing as he realized what he just said. But he couldn't back down now.

"Uh, yeah, that's right," he replied, trying to sound casual. "Been in the army for a couple years now."

Beck looked impressed. "No shit? That's awesome, man! But what were you doing in an office then?"

Shit, lying was *hard*. Now he had to come up with another one, and fast.

"I... uhm... Oh, right. I was actually applying for a new job, at a private security firm. Y'know, with all the political bullshit goin' on, a lot of us are lookin' to get out and find somethin' else."

That was believable. A lot of people didn't want to stay in the army with a president like that. Heck, that's why *he* was looking for another job, right?

Wait, but wasn't that part of the lie? Finn's confusion grew and he barely registered Beck's answer:

"Yeah, I hear ya."

Finn scratched his head, trying to clear his mind. Thinking had never been his strong point - or has it? However, he was quickly distracted again by a weird feeling. As he had raised his arm, his shirt felt... tight. Constricting even. Hardly believing what he felt, he looked down at his own body and felt his solid pecs through his t-shirt. No, they weren't just solid. They were *large*. Large enough to stretch the fabric of his clothing and to limit his movements. Suddenly, he was aware of his other muscles, too. His arms were far bigger than they should be. Or was that right? Wasn't that why he went to the gym every day?

"Damn Finn, I never realized how built you are." Beck’s voice interrupted his slow train of thoughts and Finn could see Beck subconsciously licking his lips at the sight.

Something was wrong here, somehow.

"I... uh... I need to piss." he declared, the crude language coming all natural now.

He almost forgot to take off his headset and stumbled to the bathroom, splashing his face with water. The man who was staring back at him from the mirror was... not him. There was a certain similarity, of course, but *this* Finn was looking all different. He stripped down to his underwear to see better and was greeted by a much more massive body than before: a six-pack, bulging biceps, pecs, and all. His hair was also shorter than it used to be, and his features overall looked more rugged and less nerdy. He was a whole new, hot and handsome version of his former self. Even his face had squared up, and his jawline was much stronger. And his underwear... It looked positively *stuffed*, like he had pushed a sock in there. But he knew that wasn't the case. No, this was *his* package, the outline of his own cock pressing against the fabric, and it was a lot more than he remembered.

Finn stared at his reflection, and the reflection stared back. Something was wrong, but the fog around his brain was only getting denser.

Right, that was it. His big fingers brushed against his stubbly beard. He didn't shave, that's what was wrong here. Without a second thought, he grabbed the razor and started working on his upper lip, his chin and even his chest, until he was presentable again. It was only a few swipes, and once he was finished, he was satisfied with his work. Better.

He grabbed his clothes from the ground and didn't realize they, too, had changed into a pair of large olive cargo shorts and a white tank top.

"Yo, I'm back. Did I miss any action?"

He grinned for the camera and Beck shook his head.

"Cool!"

He readjusted his crotch and got back to playing, occasionally exchanging a joke with Beck. The game was getting really fun. Finn was blasting through enemy ranks without any consideration for strategy anymore. He was a simple guy now, and simple guys didn't need that kind of thing.

After an especially hard boss fight, he yanked his fist up in the air in triumph.

"Hell yeah! Did you see that?"

Beck laughed. "Yeah, I did, Finn. You were a beast out there."

Beck's praise gave him a warm, fuzzy feeling inside.

"Thanks man. One sec."

Without a second thought he pulled off his headset, followed by his tank top, leaving him bare-chested in front of his PC.

"Better. It's getting hot in here."

"Wow, you can say that... Holy shit!"

Beck’s eyes looked like they are about to pop out of his head. "You been hidin' that bod all this time? Damn, you look amazing!" The lust in his voice is clearly audible by now.

"Thanks, man. Just thought I'd get comfortable, y'know?" Finn grinned and ran a hand over his chiseled chest, feeling powerful and sexy. Suddenly, he remembered something.

"Right, wanted to ask ya, since we're bein' honest and all... you got a girl? Or maybe you're into dudes like me?" He didn't get why he couldn't have asked that earlier, it really wasn't that hard, was it? Heh, hard.

Beck's cheeks flush slightly but he grins. "Yeah, I swing for the other team too, Finn. Never found a chick who could handle all this."

He gestured to his own, rather toned body, which wasn't quite as impressive as the one Finn was sporting now, bringing Finn to smirk in acknowledgement.

"Well, if you wanna get more comfortable too, feel free to lose the shirt, man. Unless you're scared to show me up."

Beck chuckled, reaching for the hem of his shirt. "Scared? Please, I'll put your buff ass to shame!"

The two of them continue to play, now with their shirts off, and their banter becomes increasingly flirty. Finn was enjoying the attention, and it was obvious that Beck was enjoying the view as well. However, after two more missions, Beck noticed a sudden drop in his teammate’s performance.

"Dude, what's up? You're playin' like shit all of a sudden." he teased, while his eyes remained glued to the difficult situation.

However, after hearing the grunted answer from Finn, he immediately looked up to the video stream again.

"It's... hard to play with one hand, y'know?"

Beck's mouth fell open as he saw Finn, grinning, with one hand still on the controller and the other tightly wrapped around the massive hard cock he had fished out of his underwear and was stroking slowly, all while maintaining eye contact with Beck.

"Woah, dude. You're... You're jackin' off right now? While we're gaming?"

Finn just grinned broader before his hazy mind produced an idea. Instead of the controller, he took his phone in his hand and typed a bit, all while slowly continuing to work his cock. Beck didn't have to wait long for the mystery to resolve itself, though, as his own phone buzzed.

"That's my address," Finn growled, his voice deep and commanding. "Get your fine ass over here and I'll show you what this soldier can really do."

"I... I'll be there in 10 minutes." Beck promises, his own voice coarse with arousal.

The last thing he saw before his webcam switched off was a lewd grin on Finn's new face.

Hey, sorry for the long silence! I've had some stressful time at work, but now I'm back writing!

[telugu-girl-13]

ooh I like it! sadly I don’t have curls or bangs (actually I dislike bangs very much so not sadly 😭) so that part might have been a bittttt inaccurate, but I love that we meet in a library reading tkc 😍

okay, here's yours! only after writing the thing I realized how confusing the pronouns are because they’re both she/her for the narrator and you, and that I could have used your other pronouns, so…

—

she stepped into the great, shadowy room. was this the famed archive? it was empty, except for tattered armchairs furnishing random corners of the room. there was supposed to be more here, a secret, an enchanted one, in fact. it had taken her so much effort.

her eyes wandered across the room, when suddenly, she noticed something. no, not something. someone.

a pale-skinned girl sat in an armchair besides the furthest wall. her black hair fell down to her shoulders, though it might have been longer, and she just couldn't see it. the girl was wearing a navy blue sweater with her knees drawn up to her chest. she scribbled furiously in a bright red notebook with a golden tassel, yet her pencil made no sound, nor did it echo across the room. scrawled on the front of the girl’s notebook, in big, bold letters, was the name ANNIE.

who was this girl?

as if tracking her thoughts, the girl—annie—immediately looked up, and the two of them made eye contact for a solid two seconds.

she froze as annie eyed her curiously, as her pencil’s pace slowed dramatically. annie went back to her notebook, but every few seconds, she would lift her gaze again, for shorter, this time, and write more notes.

finally, when she thought she couldn’t breath, the girl across the room stood up abruptly. she didn’t look once in her direction as she slipped through a dark hallway that she hadn’t noticed before.

what if she was in the wrong room?

no, it couldn’t have been. secrets, enchanted secrets, they had said. and that was almost exactly what she saw as annie seemed to glide through the shadows, and through the wall.

—

I did not plan this so the ending was not expected for me either 😝 also im planning to do something like this for my next event so !!

sometimes i wonder how a writer would describe me if i were a character in a book

[nick-writes-stuff]

Special Delivery

Hwang In-ho x gn!reader

summary: After Dae-ho goes into shock, you decide to take the ammo out to the rebelling players. You witness your closest ally turn on the other players, but after you are injured, he proves his loyalty to you. (~5k words)

!warnings: canon-typical violence, seriously injured reader, mentions of PTSD, swearing, use of y/n

---

As your friends started planning to overpower the guards, you couldn't help but feel nervous. While you believed in the cause, you just had a bad feeling that this wasn't going to go the way they hoped. When the group split apart after Gi-hun's presentation of his plan for the upcoming brawl, you found yourself sitting next to Young-il. You tried to ignore your heart leaping every time your shoulders touched, no matter how fleeting.

“What do you make of all of this?” He asked you.

You sighed with a shrug. “I don't know. I think it's a worthwhile fight, but it won't be an easy one.” You said. You glanced over at him. "And you?" You asked.

He nodded slightly. “I don't know either. We tried so hard to make it through the games, so going out there and risking our lives feels like we're throwing it all away.” He said.

You paused for a moment. “I could give you the lecture of ‘It's for the good of the people’ but that's bullshit.” You said.

He turned and looked at you, surprise evident on his face.

You turned to look at him. You spoke with a serious tone. “You don't have to do this, you know?” He stared at you for a moment. “You can say no.”

He shook his head. “I can't just abandon them like that. That's hardly what a good friend would do”

“You have every right to value your own safety over the good of the people, so deciding not to help doesn't make you a bad person. ” You said softly. “It's your choice.”

He sighed. This conversation was fascinating to him when he considered his position. Would you still say that if you knew who he really was?

After a moment of silence, you looked back over to him. “I won't think of you any differently if you decide not to help stop the games.” You said softly.

His breath caught in his throat as he turned to you. He was suddenly aware of your proximity to him. His eyes landed on your lips, but before anything could happen, he heard the commotion coming out of the hall that led to the bathrooms.

He leaned back a bit before clearing his throat. You felt your cheeks flush, but you didn't say anything. You made your way to where your alliance was typically placed and crawled under the bed.

As this plan continued to unfold, you got increasingly more nervous about how good of an idea this was. You knew that some of them had military experience, but this seemed like an uneven fight. What were a dozen starving, sleep deprived players with limited ammo going to do to take down the small militia carrying out these games?

Before they left, you took a step toward them. “Good luck out there.” You said. Your eyes scanned the group before landing on Young-il. “Come back here safe, alright?” You were both speaking to the group and him specifically. He smiled slightly, giving you a nod before following the rest out.

You stood still there for a moment, but you eventually sat on a bed near Jun-hee. She was really the only one you knew who was still in the room. You've talked to some of the others before, but she was the only one you really felt safe around. You would be screwed if none of them returned. All of your allies were in danger. You'd be left alone.

Even outside of the strategic aspect, you didn't think you would be able to get over their deaths. How could you? Especially Young-il. That first night after Red Light Green Light when neither of you could sleep, it cemented him as your closest friend here.

And you tried to hide it as much as possible, but your feelings for him had grown more than platonic. You knew it was stupid to let yourself catch feelings while in a death game. You mentally scolded yourself every time you felt butterflies in your stomach whenever he laughed at a joke you made. You pretended you didn't feel sparks fly anytime you accidentally touched him. When he grabbed your hand during Mingle, you felt like you could faint.

The only thing that made you hesitate was the fact that he later used that hand to break a man's neck right in front of you.

He knew what was happening despite your attempts to hide it. He found it fascinating, but he couldn't lie and deny that the feeling wasn't mutual. It would be hypocritical to call you naive when he was in the same boat. He had come into the games to watch over Gi-hun and learn more about what makes the man tick, but he found something that intrigued him even more. You.

Maybe it was twisted for him to say, but he was very curious about how you would react when you thought he was dead. And that thought led him to consider finding a way to let you live. But what would you do if you found out he was pulling the strings?

You didn't know what to feel right now. You wanted to be hopeful, but you couldn't quell the feeling that something was going to go wrong. That feeling only grew when you saw Dae-ho rush into the room. He was trembling, fumbling around in the pockets of the deceased guards. You stood up, moving toward him. “Dae-ho, what's going on?” You asked.

He stumbled over his words, hardly getting out a coherent sentence. You thought you heard something about ammunition, and your assumption was confirmed when he shakily grabbed a magazine. You turned back toward Yong-sik and his mother. “Can you guys help gather their magazines?” You asked. Dae-ho stammered out a word of thanks for your help.

The four of you gathered all of the ammo the guards had on their person. It wasn't much at all, definitely less than 20 magazines. It would help a bit, but this seemed like it wasn't going to be enough. Geum-ja had the idea of wrapping them up in his jacket to make a makeshift bag. She said something about having to do that back in the war. You couldn't really focus on her words as Dae-ho ran back to the hall. You took a deep breath before going back to your spot.

You didn't get to stay there that long. He ran back into the room with his hands over his ears. You grimaced, knowing he was probably reliving memories he'd rather forget. But then it hit you that he never delivered the ammo. They needed that ammo desperately.

Despite your better judgment, you got up from your spot, heading for the door.

“Where are you going?” Geum-ja called out.

You looked back at her. “They need that ammo.” You said. You left the room before you could change your mind.

You saw the radio, but you left it there. You wouldn't know how to work one anyway. You found the ammo where he dropped it. You wrapped it back up and started walking into the unknown.

You quickly noticed the broken security cameras, likely Hyun-ju's doing. You followed them and the sound of the gunshots. It made you nervous that you were running into danger, but you couldn't help but imagine how grateful Young-il would be when you brought it to him. The way the lines around his eyes would crease when he smiled.

You stopped yourself from continuing the thought. Daydreaming would get you killed out here.

You didn't see any guards on the way. You didn't know if that was a good or a bad sign. You did eventually find Hyun-ju and the others. Well, some of them.

She looked shocked to see you. “Y/N? What are you doing? Where's Dae-ho?” She asked. She was glad you got here in one piece but she was somewhat shocked at the poor decision making that led to you coming here unarmed.

“Dae-ho is out of commission. I think he's having a PTSD episode.” You said. From what you had gathered, Dae-ho's time in the Marines wasn't exactly a good one. She gave you a knowing look. You set out the magazines on the floor. One of the men came to start distributing the ammo. They got 2 clips each, if that.

You looked around at the people she had left. “Where's everyone else?” You asked. Your heart dropped to your stomach, but you were somewhat relieved by her words.

“456 and 390 ran up ahead a while ago to try to find a control room. They got pinned out there. Young-il and two others went to try to help them.” She said. You tried to hide your instinctive wince upon hearing that. Did he really have to go out and play the hero?

“Do they still need ammo?” You asked.

She nodded. “Yeah, I can run it out to them.” She said.

“Maybe you should stay here. You guys are the last line of defense to the others.” You offered.

She chuckled lightly, but she was definitely confused. “And what are you suggesting?” She asked.

You shrugged. “I could take it.”

She shook her head. “Hell no. That would be a suicide mission, especially without a gun.”

“Who said I wouldn't take a gun?” You countered. Unfortunately, there were a few downed allies among them. Their guns lay next to them without their magazines.

You really didn't want to take the gun.

“Have you ever held a gun before?”

You shook your head. “I could still take one. How hard could it be?”

She looked very annoyed by your statement. She knew there would be no use arguing with you. “I'm not giving you a gun, but if you want to run in there blind and unarmed, I'm not gonna stop you. I'll at least make sure you have some cover.” She leaned down and pulled a few magazines for herself before gesturing to you to take the rest. As you scooped up the rest of the ammo, she yelled “Covering Fire!”

You dashed your way across the balcony they were shooting from. You eventually made it into a set of hallways in a different design scheme than the stairs. You hoped that was a sign that you were on the right track.

And you were on the right track. You could tell because they had made a trail of dead guards, bloody footprints, and broken security cameras.

You were surprised that there weren't more guards out and about. They seemed innumerable every other time you saw them. During Mingle, there had to be 100 guards at least helping to carry out the game. It made you a bit suspicious, but you didn't have much time to think about that.

The sounds of gunfire got louder and louder until you saw movement down a corridor. You stopped to peek out from the corner. You were greeted with teal jumpsuits. Jung-bae and Gi-hun.

You moved close to them. “Hey, don't shoot me.” You called out. Gi-hun jumped and turned toward you. His gun was pointed at you for a moment before he realized it was you.

“Jesus, Y/N, you scared the shit out of me.” He said, exasperated from shock.

Your name got Jung-bae’s attention. “Y/N? What are you doing here? Where's Dae-ho?” He asked.

You hesitated for a moment. Would Dae-ho want you to tell him? Would he be okay with showing that vulnerability, or would he want you to hide that and maintain his ex-marine facade? You decided to tell the truth. It was easier to explain than making up a lie. “I think he's having a PTSD episode. He couldn't come back out here.” You said.

Jung-bae gave a knowing look, just nodding. You hoped that meant he understood.

“But why did you come here unarmed? That's too risky.” Gi-hun asked.

You chuckled. “Hyun-ju wouldn't give me a gun. She was going to run it over to you, but they… took some casualties.” You said, trailing a bit on the last few words. “Where's Young-il?” You asked, raising your voice to be heard over the gunfire. You started to pull out two magazines for Gi-hun from the bundle, handing it to him as he answered you.

“You just missed him. He and two others ran ahead to find a way to ambush them.” He said.

You grabbed two more clips from the bundle for Jung-bae. “Cover me?” You requested. He leaned over and began shooting at the guards. You dashed through the gap, dropping the clips near the man before trying to find where the trio went.

It was fairly easy to guess where they went, seeing as they were only trying to get around the guards. There seemed to be only one way to do that. Everything went quiet for a moment. That made you even more cautious, checking around each corner before you continued. Eventually, you saw who you were looking for. Another figure in a teal jumpsuit with no guards around.

You realized you were smiling. You were happy that he was okay and that you would be able to help him after all and-

A series of gunshots rang through the hall. Your smile dropped. You felt your blood run cold.

If the guards fired… why was Young-il still standing still? As he took a step forward, you slowly crept toward him, praying that he didn't hear you.

“It's over, Gi-hun. I'm sorry.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. You peeked slightly around the corner.

That image would forever be burned in your mind. Young-il was very much alive. He was low to the ground, holding out the radio to the player as he took his last breath. Then fired one more shot into the man's head. He turned a dial on the radio with certainty.

You heard him clearly. You were sure of it.

“Let's wrap this up.”

You started to back up, but you stopped when he turned. Your escape was interrupted by his voice.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” He asked. He turned toward you and, in turn, pointed the gun at you without thinking about it.

You froze, instinctively dropping the magazines. You held up your now trembling hands.

He looked at you confused, almost hurt that you thought he would shoot you. Then he realized he was still holding the gun. “Oh shit. No, no, I'm not going to shoot you.” He said, slinging the gun's strap around his shoulder.

“What the hell just happened?” You asked, mostly just confused but also a little nervous.

He sighed. “I know, I have a lot to explain but we can't stay here, okay? Follow me.” He said.

This confused you further. After what you just witnessed, you weren't going anywhere without a bit of explanation. “Where are we going?”

Before he could respond, you heard a pair of footsteps coming from behind you.

Two armed soldiers were coming up the hall. You raised your hands again. One aimed at you. The second lagged behind the other and tried to stop him, reaching for his shoulder and shouting “No, don't!” But he didn't react fast enough, and the soldier put a round in your gut before realizing who he was aiming at.

You screamed, hands shakily touching the wound. Your hand came back bloody. You stumbled slightly, but Young-il caught you, helping you down to the floor.

The voices around you were coming in and out of your awareness. You could see that Young-il was saying something to you, but you only saw his lips moving.

In-ho looked you over. “No, no,no. This wasn't supposed to happen, I'm-” His gaze then darted up to the soldiers.

He glared at the one who shot you. His tone was cold but you could hear the intense anger behind it. “I believe I made the instructions very clear. Player 134 was to be unharmed. Also, your aim could use some work.” He said before aiming his gun at his head and firing.

At the noise of the gunshot, you cried out, thinking someone was going to come finish the job. He looked back down at you with concern. “Hey, hey, it's okay.” He murmured softly.

He gently peeled the shirt from your wound. You whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut. “Sorry.” He said. The wound looked to be away from any vital organs, mostly a flesh wound. “You're gonna be fine. I'm going to get someone to help you, okay? You'll be okay.” He rambled, both reassuring you and convincing himself.

He stood up and addressed the soldier who was still living. “Get them to the doctors. If they die, so do you.” He ordered before storming off toward the management room. Honestly, he was going to kill him anyway since he saw his face.

Unfortunately, he still had a part to play in this special game. He entered the control room, going into the restroom that had been deemed the dressing room for the special game. He needed to get dressed into the Front Man ensemble, but first, he tried to scrub your blood from his hands. His hands were trembling, and his breathing was fast. He felt like he could still see the red staining his hands no matter how long he washed them. If you died, he would probably see it for the rest of his life.

Your memory of the next several hours were flashes of hot pink and black and too much blood. You were taken to an area of the compound that was clearly not meant for players to see. It was very industrial compared to the surreal colorful halls meant for the players.

You were eventually lying on a table with someone who appeared to be a doctor standing over you. You heard someone stressing that you were supposed to be kept alive and with your organs. You would have laughed if you weren't in immense amounts of pain. Eventually, you blacked out.

-

You came to on a leather couch in a room you didn't recognize. You felt the dull ache radiating from your side. It took all your willpower to lift the fabric off your stomach. The wound was bandaged up, which was a good sign. They wouldn't have taken the time to dress your wound if they were going to kill you.

Before you could even think about getting up, you heard a door open. You stayed still, not being able to see who it was. You could hear the faint sound of a dial tone, and you heard a voice.

“Front Man speaking:” He started speaking. The voice was coming through a voice filter, but you knew who it was. It was him.

“I believe I made myself clear during our discussion, but apparently, I was mistaken.” You heard him say.

He paused for a moment, presumably listening to the person on the other end of the line.

“I gave them an order which they disobeyed, and we both know what happens to people who disobey orders.” He said.

Despite your better judgment, you decided to attempt to stand up. You slowly sat up, holding your breath and wincing from the pain. You didn't make a sound even though it was intense. From there, you stood up with fewer difficulties. You took a few steps toward him until he started speaking again.

“The player is fine, luckily.”

He was talking about you presumably. And whatever the person on the phone said pissed him off even more.

“It doesn't matter what you think about the orders. You are expected to follow them. I don't care if you think my feelings are clouding my judgment. That's not for you to decide. Now you can either stop your train of thought here or we can discuss your future here in this operation.”

You opened your mouth in surprise. His feelings? What feelings? You were shocked and excited at the prospect that your feelings may be mutual.

“Continue the protocol as usual. The next vote will take place at 0600 tomorrow morning. I'll see you then.” He said shortly before putting down the receiver. He turned around and froze when he saw you.

He stood there for a moment, expecting you to say something, but you just stood there silently. He was confused for a moment until he remembered you were seeing the polygonal facade. He pulled off his hood and the mask, tossing the latter to the floor without a care.

You had already known it was him. That was an easy assumption to make. But seeing the concerned look flash across his face as well as the realization that you had been listening made the butterflies return to your stomach.

“Hey.” You said softly.

He smiled. He closed the distance between you and pulled you into the gentlest hug you had ever had. This hug had been meticulously planned in his mind, just like every other action he takes. He thought out the placement of his hands, the tightness of his embrace, everything.

You melted into his arms, taking in a deep breath and leaning into him.

On the other hand, he was tense, like he was carrying a heavy weight. Which he was. He was carrying the weight of his fear that you would hate him for every decision he has made.

“Thank you.” You murmured.

“How are you feeling?” He asked you.

“Like I got shot.” You said. He could hear the smirk in your voice. You laughed a bit at your own joke, but he just let out a deep sigh. At this, you pulled away to look at him.

He looked anxious, an emotion you never saw in him. Even in the most dangerous situation, he managed to keep a cool and level head. It's something you admired in him, so seeing him so worried about something was concerning. But you need clarification.

“Young-il, what's going-” You began, but he cut you off.

“In-ho.” He said.

“Hm?” You hummed in confusion, eyebrows knitted together.

“My name is In-ho.” He said.

You didn't have much of a reaction to that statement. “In-ho, what's going on?” You repeated. He was taken aback by how nonchalant you were about this whole thing. He just admitted that he'd been lying to you and hiding his identity, but you didn't seem to care.

“You're all stitched up. The doctors made sure of it.” He said

“I mean with what happened before that.” You said. Your voice was a strange mix of stern and soft. You were trying to be gentle, but you wanted answers.

He sighed. He felt his heart drop as he began to speak. “I'm the one who organizes the games.” He admitted. You didn't seem shocked because that felt very obvious to you. “I went into the games to watch Gi-hun and make sure he couldn't succeed with his attempt of a takeover.” He said.

You nodded. “What happened to them?” You asked.

He didn't look at you. “Jung-bae is dead. The higher-ups have plans for Gi-hun.” He said.

That did surprise you. From how Gi-hun explained it, you had assumed the man in the polygonal mask was the man in charge, but apparently, he wasn't as pivotal as previously thought.

“Did you really tell them not to hurt me?” You asked quietly.

His gaze landed on you quickly. “Of course I did.” He said, matter-of-factly. He felt that was obvious. He cared about you more than he could wrap his head around. “I didn't want you to die in here. If you hadn't come out with the ammo, I was going to arrange a way to get you out safely.” He said.

Your eyes widened with surprise. “Oh.” You murmured. You paused for a moment before speaking. “You know, I only came out with the ammo because of you.”

“I'm still not sure what happened there. Why were you the one bringing the ammo?” He asked.

You sighed. “Dae-ho came back and tried to gather the ammo. I think he went into shock. He wouldn't leave, so I brought it out. I didn’t think that would end well if you all ran out of ammo.”

He nodded. “By the way, what were you thinking? You went without a gun?” He asked, playfully scolding you for the poor decision.

You scoffed. “Hyun-ju wouldn't give me one.” You insisted.

“I don't blame her.” He said with a smirk.

You crossed your arms, sending him a lighthearted glare. “You know, next time I'll leave you to rot.” You said, even though you knew that wasn't actually a possibility in this scenario.

He laughed. “How about there's no next time?” He offered.

You smiled at him. After a moment of quiet, you asked the question that part of you was dreading. “So what happens now?” You were afraid he would send you home. Would you ever see him again? He wouldn't kill you… right?

He seemed to have been dreading that quite as well. “I could arrange a ride to the mainland if you would like.” He said softly, trying to gauge your reaction to the statement. “But if you don't hate my guts and think I'm an irredeemable person, you're welcome to stay here if you like.” He offered. He sounded defeated almost, like he already felt like you hated him.

You had to hate him, right? Everyone always does. He put you through all of this. The bloodshed, the danger, the trauma, it was all his doing.

Maybe others would despise him. But not you.

“I told you already, ‘I won't think of you any differently if you decide not to stop the games.’ Remember that?” You asked. “Nothing's changed.”

He shook his head adamantly. “But I put you through all of this. You got shot for goodness sake.” He raised his voice somewhat at the end, clearly getting more emotional. He couldn't pinpoint what emotion it was, but you knew it was just anxiety.

You reached out and touched his shoulder, hoping it would catch his attention and get him to look at you. “You saved my life. Without you, I'd be in a black box.”

“But I-” He said shakily.

“The blame isn't as black and white as you think it is.” You cut him off. You took a deep breath, shoulders shaking slightly. “Plus, outside of here, it probably would have been worse for me.” You said. You hadn't talked about it much, but it wouldn't have been much longer until your debts would have caused some serious dangers to you.

He still wouldn't look at you, so after a few seconds of silence, you continued speaking. “At least here I met you.”

His breath hitched at your words. He finally looked at you, and you could have sworn his eyes looked somewhat misty. You pulled him into a hug.

He quickly reciprocated the hug, no longer as tense as the first, but he was still cognizant of your injury. He tried his best not to shed a tear. He was just so happy. After years of being alone, he finally found someone who wouldn't shut him out just because of his position in the games.

More than that, he finally found someone who he didn't have to push away because he was afraid of them turning on him once they learned of his work.

Cutting ties with his brother was the hardest thing he'd had to do in his life. After the confrontation with Jun-ho, he thought he would have to resign himself to a life of isolation and live with the fact no one would see him as anything more than a ruthless leader ruling with an iron fist and a penchant for murder.

You didn't take much care to the moral dilemma he created. Playing the games firsthand and seeing so many of your friends die really changed you. This same thing would have happened out there. Maybe this wasn't the best solution to this societal issue, but you sure as hell didn't have a different one that would actually work.

Regardless, you really cared about In-ho. You had grown to trust him the most, not only in the games but probably of everyone in your life. You didn't care that he had been hiding his identity or that he was running the death game that could have killed you. He cared about you. He went out of his way to keep you safe. Hell, he was willing to break the strict rules of the games just to save you.

And he'd do it again in a heartbeat. If his work somehow put you in danger, he would do anything for you. He'd burn it all down if he must. You were the first person who had managed to break through the walls that he had put up.

You pulled away from the hug, still standing close to him. When you looked up, he could see a slight mischievous glint in your eye, but he missed your eyes taking a glance at his lips for a fraction of a second.

“You know, after almost dying, I'm going to do something I would have regretted not doing if I had died.” You said. Before he could ask, you grabbed the collar of his jacket and pulled him closer to you, pressing your lips against his.

He was surprised for a second, but he quickly began to kiss you back. You smiled slightly against his lips.

This should be something that felt foreign to him. He hadn't kissed anyone since his wife passed. It should remind him of her, but this was an entirely new feeling for him. Kissing you just felt so right.

You felt the same way. He kissed just like you thought he would. Everything felt methodical and planned, but there was also some underlying force underneath it all. It was exhilarating.

When you pulled away, you both were breathless. He chuckled lightly. “You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that.” He said softly. You nodded in return.

There was still more you had to talk about. You wanted more information about how he got involved in the games in the first place. You wanted to know what happened to Gi-hun. You wanted answers, but you allowed yourself to enjoy the moment a little longer.

But maybe this was a decision that would doom several thousand people's lives. You could be dooming Gi-hun by not taking the initiative to get information. Maybe you could save him or even stop the games entirely.

Or maybe you'd be performing a suicide mission. It would ruin the strongest connection you have forged. You could be kicked out of this place and back onto the streets. You would be at the mercy of the loan sharks waiting to take out their prey. Maybe the soldiers would kill you on the spot for trying anything. Maybe In-ho would have to kill you. You'd become another face that would haunt him whenever he dared to close his eyes.

Perhaps it was selfish, but you didn't care.

[captain-bubble-wrap]

Your dark Quinn is DELICIOUS! May we have more!?

I can't get the gif of Quinn out of my mind from the awards last season. The one where hesfixining his tie? Can we get some outfit picking? Quinn approving and disapproving of the reader's dresses for the upcoming awards show?

Please,make my dreams come true? ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Nonnie...I went down a very slutty rabbithole with this one. If you (or anyone else) don't want 1,500 words of smut right out the gate. Ignore this one. If you'd like a redo, let me know, please!

It goes without saying: dark sexual themes throughout, just....dark everything. There's too much to list. 18+ Rated A for Adult, lol. Y'all know the drill!

"Darling, I need you to show me what you're planning on wearing next weekend," Quinn spoke, giving you a sideways glance as you passed by him in the living room. You stopped when he spoke to you, giving him your full and undivided attention anytime he spoke to you. He'd beckon you to come closer to the sofa where he sat, instructing you to sit and straddle his hips before he'd continue. His hands found the curve of your hips like a magnet, fingers clawing at them gently, while your hands rested on the top of his shoulders.

"Do you have an idea of what you want to show me?" He pressed, bouncing you with his leg a couple times so you slid closer to his chest.

"I have several I think you'd like," you smiled, keeping your hands where they were, but wanting to play with his hair. Your eyes remained on his, knowing he didn't like when they wandered.

Quinn breathed deep the smell of your shampoo as he leaned up into you to place a kiss to your exposed collarbone. His hands trailed from your shorts, up under the hem of your tank-top, to tease your taut nipples with the soft pads of his thumbs. Your sharps gasps brought a smirk to his lips while he continued to dot your skin with his affections, careful not to leave a mark anywhere it might be seen by a prying camera.

"Someone's a little needy this morning," he teased, working fast circles on your left bud while your hips grinded against him. You could feel your heartbeat pounding between your legs, just wanting to beg him to touch you but you knew he wouldn't. It was a treat that he was even letting you tease yourself through the friction of your cloth shorts. You could already feel the fabric grow cool from your arousal.

"What are you doing, princess?" He hummed, feeling you try to push deeper into his hips; struggling to press your clit on something that would give you the stimulation you craved.

Your answer to his question was simply a moan, as his tongue took over for his finger. His hot breath and spit against your sensitive button sent a fresh wave of tingles coursing through your body, Your pussy ached for the feeling of a touch that wasn't your own, of something you couldn't anticipate the sensation of.

"Answer me, sweetheart, or you'll be grounded."

/Grounded./ Quinn's definition of the word meant no orgasms, either by your own doing or his, no matter how much you begged, promised, or cried. He'd get you just to the point of release, time-after-time, just to leave you in tears while he walked away, making you think he was going to lift your punishment when in reality it only made it worse. You had only been "grounded" once, and it had been the worst week you could remember. You had never felt more desperate, more needy, or touch starved than the week he kept you waiting. But god, when he finally let you come, you felt weightless for an hour afterwards.

"I want you to touch me, please," you replied, breathlessly following his one and only warning, stopping your movements while he spoke.

Quinn's tone deepened, "Do you want me to touch you, or do you want to get off?"

"Both," you answered immediately, your chest heaving.

He just grinned at your answer, that devious smirk that drove you equally as crazy as it frightened you.

"Get up, princess," he ordered, withdrawing his hands from your body, leaving you stunned and fearful you had answered incorrectly. "Now."

Without needing another push, you pulled yourself off of him and stood beside him, trying so hard to be patient.

"In my lap, sweetheart."

Swallowing hard, you did as you were told, and soon found yourself between his thighs, your hands resting on either side of him.

"You're such a good girl, doing as you're told so quickly," he growled deeply into your ear. "I don't like having to tell you twice. Thank you for not making me do that."

"You're-- welcome," you choked out, finding yourself nervous for whatever was about to happen. You mind was fuzzy with wants and unspoken desires, making it harder to focus on the present.

Quinn's breathy laugher sent goosebumps across your skin as his right hand roamed. "I like to reward good girls."

His fingers slipped under the band of your shorts and painfully slow, inched across your bare skin until he discovered just how wet you were for him. You never disappointed him on that front, and he loved being surprised with just how intense it was. There were few things that topped how his fingers felt when you craved him so badly, they were a second to his tongue, of course. Your back arched against him as he traced the outline of your lips so lightly you had to focus to feel it. He was playing with you, but it didn't matter: you were getting what you had asked for, and if you played your cards right, he'd complete both of your wants at once.

"You get so wet so fast, princess. I hardly even touched you. Tsk, tsk, tsk," his tongue ticked against the back of his teeth. "Such a desperate little thing you are, aren't you?"

"Yes!" You moaned as he slipped his index into you, the sound of your wet sex popping in the quietness of his apartment while he buried his finger into you as deep as the angle would allow him. You were tightening against him, pushing into each thrust with quickening desperation.

Having given you a taste of what you could expect later, Quinn withdrew his finger, slick with your fluids, and took to rapidly stroking your plump clit. Your moans grew deeper, and more consistent with each wave of pleasure that washed over you.

"You sound so beautiful, sweetheart." He whispered, nuzzling into your neck as you continued to grind against his hand. You tried to grasp at the cushions for something to hold on to, but you just couldn't get your fingers around enough of it to do any good. Instead, your right hand would find the top of his, as he continued to play with you; your fingers sliding down his.

"Maybe I should make you get yourself off?" Quinn teased, feeling your hand press against his.

"Please, no," you begged, eyes closed in complete bliss.

"But you seem so eager to help. Do you want to feel how wet you are?"

Quinn slipped his hand from beneath yours and forced you to touch yourself, his fingers instructing where and how fast. You already knew you were past the point of being a dripping mess, and you couldn't deny how good it felt to have him show you how to pleasure yourself. Your moans continued, short and high-pitched as his pressure grew against your clit with that of your own fingers.

"That's enough," he hushed, making you take your hand away reluctantly. "That's for me to do."

The next time his fingers would separate your aching slit, your legs would involuntarily spread wider, as you pushed back against the pleasure. Every sensation felt so heightened, so intense, while you teetered on the edge of numbness. Quinn was grinning as he nipped at your shoulder, wanting to leave the darkest hickey on your shoulder yet he had to restrain himself. His fingers switched between rolling your clit under his fingertips to seeing how far he could bury his fingers inside of you.

"How good do you taste?" He asked, ordering you to clean off your fingers of your own arousal. "Good?"

"Yes," you replied, after sucking your fingers clean on demand.

"I can't wait to taste you," he murmured, his hum of his voice shooting like a vibration between your legs, a fresh supply of that slick nectar coating his fingers. "Ah, fuck.'

Quinn hissed against his tightening cock pressing against the zipper of his pants. Each time you thrusted against his touch, it teased him and you could feel him press up into you. He was hard, making you want to ask him if he'd fuck you right there.

"Do you feel what you do to me?"

"Yes."

"Good girl." Upon the praise, Quinn buried two fingers deep into you, for the final push to get you to come when he said so. You were close; you had been since touching yourself. Your mouth was growing dry, having to constantly gasp for air against the throaty moans he was causing you to expel. You wanted to come, yet you didn't want to have his fingers be gone from your body.

"Are you going to come hard for me, sweetheart?"

"Uh-huh," you nodded, mouth open and eyes rolled back as you met his thrusts. His beautiful fingers lost inside your wetness just made you quicken your pace. He knew you were desperate to come, and he was nearing letting you finally let go. Just a few more minutes under his control was all he selfishly wanted and he'd get it, too.

"You've made such a mess."

"I know, I'm sorry," you whined, absolutely pathetic and lost in his touches.

"What do you want?"

"I want to come," you cried out.

"What else?" He dared you to say what you wanted later.

"I want-- I want to--," you were struggling to speak in complete sentences, and for good reason. Quinn had two fingers, knuckle-deep inside of you, pressing you to do what you were told. "I want to feel myself tighten around your cock, daddy!"

You were drooling as Quinn smirked behind you. Your hips were pushing against his erection harder now, causing Quinn to have to issue you a warning.

"Careful, princess. Not so hard; I'm not inside of you yet." His voice was low as he bit your ear. "Eager little daddy's girl, hm?"

"Yes!" You gasped, feeling Quinn's fingers slip back to your sensitive clit. You didn't know how much longer you could hold on.

Feeling you had deserved to finally have your release, Quinn brought his left hand to your throat and squeezed just enough to heighten the last few moments of pleasure. "You've done so well for me, baby. You've made daddy so proud. Would you like to come now?"

"Yes-- Yes, daddy, please! Please!"

With his lips right next to your ear, he breathed that phrase you had been craving, "Come for me, princess."

Your ears were ringing, legs were Jell-o, and your whole body was tingling as you were finally granted the extended orgasm you had begged for. Your moans were loud, but sounded so sweet to Quinn. He loved how your voice sounded at this stage, your fingers clawing at his skin, and you going limp against him as wave after wave of bliss flooded every one of your senses.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered again, holding you tightly against his chest, your back still to him. Your head had fallen back against the sofa, as you struggled to catch your breath. The room was spinning but you felt so good that it didn't matter.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" Quinn asked softly, giving you as much time as you needed to find yourself again. He had all day, and he was kind enough to let you use as much as was necessary.

"Mhm," you mumbled, your voice sleepy. "Thank-- thank you."

"But of course," he said, a smile in his tone. "Take your time. There's no rush, but I'm going to take my fingers away, alright?"

You bit your lip and nodded; your hips jerked feeling his fingers withdraw from your over-stimulated petals. However, you quickly melted back into a feeling of weightlessness as Quinn's arms snaked around your waist, holding you tightly and keeping you right against him.

"Still okay?"

"Mhm."

Smiling, Quinn tightened his hold on your, nuzzling against your bare shoulder. "How about I get you cleaned up and you play dress-up for me, hm?"

You would nod again, and he'd let you get away with not using your words when he asked you a question. Quinn believed in a free pass every once in a while.

"Alright, swing your legs over, princess, and I'll carry you."

"I can--," you mumbled, still sleepy but you'd be interrupted.

"You can't walk, don't lie to me. I can see you're still shaking. You'd fall down if you tried to stand, and I won't have that. Legs. Don't make me ask again, sweetheart."

Swinging them to the left, this would be the first time seeing his face since he told you to get up and turn around. Your hair had fallen down from the messy bun it had been in, sweat had your skin glowing, and your bottom lip was red from how many times you had rolled it between your teeth. Quinn pulled your shirt back down before placing one last kiss to your exposed neck. He always led with his tongue. Your eyes would roll closed, feeling your core tense up in eager anticipation all over again.

"Just one last little tease, baby," he whispered. "There will be time for more later."

Hiding your face in the curve of his neck as he stood to his feet, you'd find yourself smiling at the thought.

- - -

The bath had been so relaxing.

Quinn had washed your face while the water filled, and made sure you didn't have to lift a finger for anything. All he had asked, was that you sipped at the glass of water he had given you. Everything he did was calculated, unhurried, and almost painfully soft. Even has he washed your hair, his fingers were careful never to pull through a snag. You were his little doll, and the most delicate of treatment would be afforded to you every time.

"Do you need anything else?" He asked, kneeling down to be level with you. You hadn't bounced back as quickly as he thought you would have, so he was keeping a close eye on you just to be sure. "You're sure you're okay?"

"I think so," you replied, eyes searching his face for a hint of what could be the reason for him still asking the same question so many times. He always checked in, but this seemed different. "Is something wrong?"

He smiled, "That's for me to worry about."

You remained quiet. You felt okay other than you were just physically drained.

"Have you had anything to eat today?" Quinn's eyes narrowed slightly, knowing you had a bad habit of forgetting meals.

Your guilty eyes fell from his face in an instant and you knew you'd have to answer for it. "Toast."

"Sweetheart, you can't live solely on toast."

"I know, but--" You went to bite down on your lip again, but you stopped yourself, just like you stopped yourself from saying something that would get you in trouble. "I'm sorry. I'll be better."

Quinn's hand found the side of your jaw, holding it to keep your gaze where he wanted it. "Thank you." His smile was minimal but spoke volumes, mostly that of how pleased he was at how well you knew your place and what he expected of you. When he called you a good girl, it was because you really were one.

"You stay here and relax a little more, and I'm going to make you something for lunch. Ah--," he stopped, putting his thumb to your lips to keep your mouth closed. "I'll come get you when I'm done. Do you understand?"

With his thumb tracing your lips, you'd give a nod to his question.

His smile deepened as he pulled your face to his for a kiss, making you work for it as the water sloshed about with you having to struggle to meet him. "That was mean of me," he lamented, finally letting you slide back into the warm comfort of the water. "You should be resting."

Quinn would kiss the top of your head before getting to his feet and leaving the room. However, before completely exiting, he'd turn to look at you, his eyes dark, "I expect you to be where I left you when I come back, princess. Towels and floors best still be dry."

"I promise."

"Thank you," he said, finally disappearing from your line of sight.

The water was still steaming hot, but you knew he wouldn't forget you, and leave you to sit in cold water. Having a moment in your own thoughts, you remember what he had asked of you. The NHL Awards were next weekend and you needed some black-tie-level dress to wear. You knew you had several such gowns hanging in Quinn's closet, you just weren't sure which one would be the one he'd pick. Mentally, you'd flip through each of them, deciding which ones you'd reach for, and which you'd pass on when asked to finally try them on. At the moment, you knew of five you knew he'd show interest in. One he hadn't seen yet.

Twenty minutes later, Quinn would return to the bathroom, and was pleased to find you sipping from your glass and just as promised.

"Ready to get out?"

"Yes, please."

- - -

Quinn laughed, setting down the bowl of lemon and herb pasta in front of you. "Do you want me to feed you?" You couldn't tell if he was being serious or actually joking with you. His laugh should have given it away, but the sheer nature of it all seemed very honest.

"I can manage," you replied softly, hopeful he wouldn't take offense. "Thank you."

"I know you can, just having a bit of fun," he winked, though a part of him did wonder how that would go if he told you that you just had to sit there while he brought food to your mouth. A thought for another day, perhaps. "I want you to let me know how you feel in a little bit."

"I will," you reassured. "I'm okay, Quinny."

Quinn turned his head, his brows raised. "That's for me to decide."

You adverted your eyes from his face, focused now on the marble veins of the island. You knew you had just spoken out of place and now you feared the consequences. You could hear his footsteps move back towards you, and through your peripheral you could see him headed to come up behind you.

"Do you think I don't know when there's something wrong with you, hm?"

Quinn's finger traced the curve of your spine through the black silk, slip dress he had chosen for you following your bath. You shuddered against his touch, eyes closing unsure of what he was going to do next.

"You do, I'm sorry! I didn't mean it that way."

His fingers continued to inch upwards, following your neck until the digits were buried deep in your freshly dried hair, coiling around it tightly. He had a fistful when he pulled you backwards, your eyes snapping open when you felt like you were going to fall off of the kitchen stool. You would be looking at the ceiling when Quinn stepped into your view, still gripping your hair by the roots.

"Have I ever been wrong?"

"No," you yelped, the nape of your neck more sensitive than you could remember. "You know better than I do! I'm stupid, I'm sorry."

Quinn's fingers let go in an instant, allowing you to pull yourself back up and catching your breath. He stepped around to your right, taking the empty seat beside you.

"Look at me," he ordered, causing you to turn your whole body to face him. "Never say anything like that about yourself, princess. You're not stupid. I don't like hearing you put yourself down, especially when it's incorrect. Understood?

"Yes," you replied quickly, trying to steady your breathing, but it was turning into a struggle.

Quinn's hand would touch your thigh and move upwards, stopping when his wrist reached the hem. "You're never stupid," he reiterated.

You sniffled, as you nodded at his statement. He knew you were sorry so you refrained from uttering the constant apology.

"What am I going to do with you?" He mumbled, looking you over as you continued to face him. Quinn reached forward for your silverware then the white ceramic bowl, his left hand still gripping your upper thigh.

With a perfect piece of bowtie pasta perched on the tines of the fork, Quinn instructed you to open your mouth. He'd feed you the whole bowl, one piece at a time.

- - -

Quinn sat on the edge of the bed, watching you as you thumbed through the hangers, looking for the dresses you had in mind for the following weekend. He finally felt confident that you were well enough to entertain his private little show. You were barefoot, wearing only the silk slip dress, and your hair was pulled back in a large, black hairbow. While on your tiptoes, he gazed at the curve of your calves, upwards to your full thighs and bum. So many places for his hands to hold, but he'd restrain himself from telling you to come over. He'd get the opportunity soon enough.

You decided to pull first the dress that he hadn't yet seen -- start strong right out the gate. It was black, floor-length and off the shoulder with long sleeves, with a single, thigh-high slit on the left side. No sparkles, no lace, just the dull satin to hug your body. Minimal but stunning.

Quinn would watch you let the slip dress fall from your body to a minimal pile on the floor as you stepped into the gown, pulling it up over your hips before it pulled your cleavage into place. You'd get the zipper up as far as your could on your own before he finally spoke to you.

"Come here."

As instructed, you'd saunter over, the slight train dragging behind you as you made your way across the room. And when told to turn around, you'd do so. Quinn's warm fingertips touched your back gently as he pulled the zipper up the remainder of the way.

"I like this one. Face me again." As you turned, his hands felt your curves until you were once against standing in front of him. "Set this one aside. I want to see something else before I decide."

He'd give you a nod to return to the closet and pick another for his viewing pleasure. The next one was similar, only it fully covered your chest while the entire back was out. Quinn wasn't as pleased with this one as he had the first.

"It's alright, but the first one suited you more. Put it back on for me."

Again, you'd find yourself walking back across the room, your heart beat quickening as you remembered just how much trying on anything for him made you wet. Any time you had taken photos for him while he was away turned you on so much that it made it easy to record a little something extra for him with nearly no effort. This was proving to be no different.

With the dress back on, you'd return to his side but this time he wouldn't complete the zipper. Instead Quinn would rise to his feet, a look in his eyes like he was plotting something.

"Over the bed, princess."

There it was. This was the "later" he had mentioned before carrying you off to the bath.

Doing as you were told, you bent over the bed, your arms outstretched in front of you, face down into the duvet, as you knew what that meant. You tried to contain your breathing, hiding that you were anxiously awaiting his next move. Quinn's hands gripped the curves of your hips as he pressed himself into you, forcing your legs wider apart with his foot. Your stomach tightened as you found yourself aching for his touch again. Slowly, the fabric of the dress was inched up until you were exposed in front of him.

"You deserve this," he said, the sound of a smirk in his tone. The smack he'd give to your ass stung like a hot iron but you couldn't lie -- it had felt good. "Did you like that?"

"Yes," you giggled, getting a rise out of Quinn.

"Oh, did you now?" While he was talking to you, you hadn't heard the sounds of him removing his pants, but what you felt next had you clawing at the sheets.

"Can you take all of me, princess?" He asked, teasing the head of his cock against your throbbing sex.

"Yes!" You cried out, your eagerness getting the better of you again, making Quinn laugh softly. "Please!"

He'd enter your awaiting folds in one, full thrust, pushing you deeper into the mattress. You'd moan into the blankets but the sound was hardly muted. With one hand, Quinn braced himself, while the fingers of his other slipped beneath the folds of the dress to flick your sensitive clit. Like before, you'd push back into him, feeling the pleasure strike you all at once. Each stroke he blessed you with was met with a deep thrust in tandem. All you could do was grab at the blanket beneath you and gasp for air between moans.

Adrenaline was making your hearing fade, but you could hear him enter you again, and again -- the bed thumping against the wall slightly. Everything felt so good: his cock plunging deep into you, his soft fingers teasing you devilishly, keeping you so close to the edge of ruin.

"You're so pretty, darling -- say it back. Tell me you're pretty."

You were so lost in the multitude of sensations rattling your cage that you almost didn't hear Quinn talking to you. You swallowed hard, gasping for air to help you form the words he wanted you to say.

"I'm pretty!"

"Mhmmmm, and you're prettiest when you're get so wet for me, aren't you?"

"Yes, daddy!"

"That's right. You're doing so well for me, but I think you can do better."

Upon issuing you the challenge, Quinn's pace quickened, and you were all but biting at the sheets. Slick fingers caressed your clit with such pressure you nearly forgot to breathe. Just when you thought you'd hit your limit, Quinn demanded more from you, more patience, more self-control.

"There you go," he purred. "Hold on until I tell you not to."

You wanted to scream. Your brain was pudding, but that release was so close, one thought and you'd explode. He was railing you so hard into the mattress you had to constantly keep grabbing new fistfuls of the duvet to hold your place. You were on your tiptoes, cramps threatening to buckle your legs. It was so much to handle.

"Just a little more, princess. You can do it. Wait for me."

Had you been biting your lip, you would have tasted blood. Every muscle keeping you upright was at its limit, but you had to do what you were told. The last few minutes felt like an eternity. You were nearing the point of overstimulation.

"Now, princess, tell me what you want." His voice was strained, trying to hold himself together.

"Come in me, daddy! Please!"

His release shot into you before you were finished uttering the words.

Eyes rolled in your head when he finally granted you your reward for being so good, "Let go, darling. Come for me."

Your back arched, pushing yourself down on him one more time before he pulled out, leaving himself dripping down your leg. "That's a good girl," he finished, leaving a kiss between your shoulder blades after you had collapsed into the bed. You would have slumped to the floor in a heap had Quinn not pulled you into his embrace on the bed. You couldn't find your breath at first.

"You're alright, breathe. Breathe with me, sweetheart."

You were crashing, reduced to a girl puddle in a black gown.

"I definitely want you to wear that dress. I'll be sure to fuck you in it afterwards, so you can just be a desperate mess for me the whole night, remembering what I've already done to you in it. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, daddy," you whispered, throat sore from gasping for air so many times.

"Thank you, princess." Quinn said, his arm tightening around you, as you went limp. You were exhausted and in need of another bath. For now, he'd just hold you while you had a little nap. You had earned that and much more.

[dailynnt]

AURORA

ᴺᵒʳᵗʰᵉʳⁿ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗˢ

༘✩ Summary: A relationship that survived a breakup but could not be forgotten. Like the northern lights that appear only at certain moments, their feelings had their peaks and troughs, but always remained on the horizon. You meet your ex at some event. The feelings are still alive.

༘✩ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ The Reader

༘✩Age restrictions: 18+

༘✩ Size: one shot

༘✩ Tags: ex to lovers, longing, smurt, cursing, sex, unprotected sex, detailed description of explicit scenes, alcohol

༘✩ Dedication: This work is dedicated to my beloved Armys. I wrote this work thinking of you. I hope this work resonates with you - @myjungkookthighs, @kelsyx33, @someoneelse0109, @mskookie, @kooccult, , @smokinghotstargirl , @curse-of-art, @rispwr, @kooko007

༘✩ From author: I have long dreamed of writing a story like this and here it is in one day. I tried my best for you and I really hope you will like the way I described the love that does not die, even if it seems that it is the end. Inspired by a song I found not so long ago and it immediately associated me with Jungkook💜❤️‍🔥💘 And I'll add another one, the lyrics of which are also here. Enjoy 🙏🏻🥰

You didn't expect to see him. You thought you would never see it again in your life. Certainly not here, among dozens of strangers, in a room flooded with soft light that resembled the glare of the northern lights. But he was here.

Your eyes meet and your heart skips a beat. He is approaching, accompanied by one of the organizers of the event you have come to. He keeps his eyes on you and you can't look away either. He seems to be the only one who could touch the strings of your soul, and they seem to be starting to pluck.

He approaches and stops a few steps away. He didn't expect to see you again either. Your last words had clearly created a great gulf between you that neither of you could cross.

He was not prepared for his heart to beat faster and his breath to become ragged, as if after a long run. But he couldn't show it, he had to control himself.

"Y/N would like to introduce you to one of our biggest sponsors. Jeon Jungkook." - He introduce Jungkook. "And Mr. Jeon, this is Y/N Y/L/N. She's a writer with whom our publishing house works." - Your eyes are greedy. You literally study each other, trying to find what has changed. And if anything has changed at all.

You look at him, waiting for him to behave. Will he pretend that you don't know each other? Or will he say that there is no need to introduce you? Because you used to be the whole world to each other.

"It's nice to meet you, Y/N." - Jungkook says. So he chooses not to be an acquaintance. Hmm, in fact, he is.

"Likewise." - You reply briefly and discreetly. Jungkook pulls your hand towards him and you put yours in his. An electric pulse goes through your whole body.

He has the same look in his eyes. The same movements you know. You used to know every detail about each other. And then you lost it.

This man in front of you was your ex-boyfriend. He was the man who made you feel like the world stopped when you were with him. He was your passion, your trusted friend, your lover. Everything between you was intense and pure, but like everything that burns brightly, it burned out. The breakup was hard and painful.

You felt your heart flutter at the familiar touch. It was more than physical contact - it was like coming home after a long journey. You didn't want it, but just like then, you couldn't shake this deep attachment. You tried to forget him, tried to let him go, but he was remained by you every day, in you every thought. And now, when your hand is back in his, you realized that you was never really ready to let go.

"I read your story. It's amazing. I'm not surprised why it's so successful." - Jungkook says, and you think you're going to fall through the floor. He's a great actor, you've always known that. But you're don’t. Even though your heart is burning with excitement and old feelings are bubbling to the surface, you think you have to go. You can't even let him be with you, because you'll lose all control.

But let's be honest, the walls you've been building for six months since the breakup has cracked. Just looking at him makes you want him to be yours again.

"I am sincerely grateful for your words. But to be honest, you don't strike me as someone who reads romance novels." - You can't contain your sarcasm. Jungkook laughs lightly, his husky voice vibrating, and this vibration ignite your bones.

"Actually, Mr. Jeon is a very creative person. He's a professional photographer." - The event organizer explains, not realizing how much these words can make your heart beat faster. Because you know his profession well.

Jungkook smiles, his eyes rest on you again, and his words sound as if he wants to share something more intimate.

"Yes, I often photograph couples." - He says, his voice softening as if he's immersed in his memories. "For me, photography is not just art, it's a way to feel emotions. Sometimes music, movies, or even novels can inspire moments that seem real only through the lens." - You can't help but smile. He's fended off your sarcastic attack, but the thing is, you doubt he could have read your novel.

Jungkook glances down at your red silk dress, which fits your figure perfectly, seductively emphasizing all the curves of your body. Curves that were once his territory. The curves he knows so well, the ones he's touched so many times

Jungkook holds his breath for a moment. He remembers how that delicate skin trembled under his fingers, how your breath grew deeper every time his hands traveled over your body. And now, looking at you, he feels an almost unbearable urge to run his fingertips over your collarbone again, to go lower, to run his hands around your waist, to put his hand on your lower back, where his touch always made you moan slightly.

His imagination shamelessly draws pictures of that red silk fabric slowly sliding off your body, revealing to him everything he remembers so well. His fingers involuntarily clench into a fist - the desire is too sharp, too real. He knows he has no right to touch you, knows that there is a gaping hole between you, created not only by hurt feelings but also by time.

But, damn it, how much he wants to reach out, to touch at least the ends of your hair, to run his fingers over your cheek, to feel the warmth of your skin again.

And then, when you finally catch his gaze, he quickly masks the thirst in his eyes with a barely noticeable smile. If only you knew what's going on in his head right now. If you knew that this evening is awakening in him what he has been trying to suppress for so long.

"Then I apologize for my hasty conclusions. I am sincerely grateful that you read my work." - You say and quickly add, because you can't stand Jungkook's company anymore. If he wants you to be strangers, you should stay strangers forever. "It was nice to meet you. Have a nice evening." - You say, giving the men a casual smile and walk away, barely able to keep yourself together. You don't let Jungkook know how much of an impact he has on you, even six months later.

After the breakup, your life turned into an endless marathon of forgetting, although in reality you were just trying not to remember. Your heart was cut like glass, and your mind was exhausted from trying to make yourself stronger. Every day you were learning a new role: a successful woman who was moving forward, even though your inner world was in ruins.

There was no shortage of men around. They came and went-attractive, confident, ready to give you everything you lacked. But each of them remained a shadow, and even the best moments with them felt empty compared to what you had with him. Those evenings when they spent together in bed, or just watching a movie in each other's arms, when there was no time, no space, nothing but your two hearts beating in unison.

You were trying to be "normal," trying to find your way and not think about him. If someone had told you six months ago that he would reappear in your life, you would have laughed, because you were sure that you would never let that happen again. You did everything you could to forget. You immersed yourself in work, wrote, traveled, had short-term meetings, but all of this was just a temporary escape from your own pain.

Over time, you thought, that you might actually be left alone, just to find myself again. You were no longer looking for someone who could give you back the feeling of the real connection that you had. It was your choice, your decision to try to relive this love that you couldn't forget.

But all fate decides. It's not interested in your plans or his plans. It has its own plan and it made sure that your paths crossed again. You are afraid that you won't be able to resist if Jungkook tries to make contact. You love him, but it's unlikely that you'll ever be together again.

The official event is over. You stay at the afterparty. When you enter the restaurant where the party is taking place, you feel a lot of stares. But you are not interested. You stayed after the event because you are excited. Because of the meeting with Jungkook, you can't get rid of the obsessive thoughts and feelings that want to find him and be with him until the morning.

You cautiously study the crowd around you. You don't find Jungkook. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you hope that he has already left, that your chance meeting was just a game of chance, and that's enough. But the part of you that never learned to forget him feels empty.

You stand at the bar, twirling your wine glass in your fingers, letting yourself relax. The atmosphere of an afterparty is lighter, more relaxed than an official event. People are laughing, the music is flowing with a soft rhythm, making your body sway slightly.

And then you feel it. A gaze. His gaze.

Like an echo of the past that won't let go. At first, you don't turn your head, don't give him that pleasure. But you can't stand it, and your eyes meet. You literally give him a second of your gaze, look away. This is enough for him. He comes closer, stands next to you. His perfume is a familiar scent that makes your pulse quicken. A scent that makes you almost crazy.

"Dancing?" - His voice is low, almost inaudible over the music, but it cuts to the core. You look up at him. His eyes are dark, deep, something has changed in them, but at the same time they are still the same. The eyes that looked at you with love and passion.

"I don't think that's a good idea." - You answer, sipping your wine so that he doesn't notice your excitement.

"Come on. It's just a dance." - He holds out his hand and you look at it. You hesitate, but the devil on your shoulder whispers: you want this. He wants this. Go. Go with him. It's just one night. And you make a choice. You put your hand in his.

He leads you to the dance floor. A slow, sensual melody fills the space between you. His hand on your waist is hot, his fingers gently squeezing the silk fabric of your dress. With his other hand, he holds your palm in his, gently but firmly.

You move to the music, his body almost touching yours. It's not just a dance - it's a dangerous game, a test of willpower. And you seem to have already lost. He has deprived you of all willpower.

You look into his eyes and try to understand what is in his mind. What does he want? Just to know what your life has become? Or does he want to try to cross the line? Jungkook's smile is mysterious. The hole from piercing on his lip stretches. You make a titanic effort not to look at his lips.

You dance, every movement a dangerous test. His hand slides to the small of your back and your breath hits you. He always touched you like this - confidently but slowly, as if he was savoring every moment.

But suddenly he leans a little closer, his lips dangerously close to your ear.

"It's... so familiar, isn't it?" - His voice is husky, and you know he feels the same way you do. It's an unrestrained desire to give in to the feelings that overwhelm you. You pull away and look up, catching his eyes. There, in their dark abyss, something forbidden flashes. Memories. A desire.

"It's in the past for me." - You lie. "The past should stay in the past." - You try to make your voice sound confident, but you don't seem to be succeeding. His hand presses lightly on your back.

"Do you really believe that?" - He asks. The silence between you says more than words. You are standing on the edge of an abyss where it is so easy to fall.

You don't know what to say. Your heart is pounding furiously in your chest, and your hands seem to remember what it feels like to touch it, to feel its warmth. You continue to move to the music, but now everything seems even slower, even more tense.

His fingers gently run down your back, a barely perceptible touch that leaves a pulsating trail. He leans in a little closer, his breath burning your skin.

"You say the past should stay where it is." - He smiles at the corner of his lips, as if he can read your thoughts. "But it seems to be catching up with us, Y/N."

You want to object, to say something prickly, but your body is treacherously drawn to him. His hand moves even lower down your back, almost on your buttocks. It makes you hold your breath. This is nothing. It's a game you've both played before. But didn't you know that things always go over the top with Jungkook?

You stop. He stops too. There are only a few centimeters between you, but it's enough to make every cell in your body burn.

"Jungkook..." - You whisper, not even knowing what you want to say. He looks at you, carefully, almost painfully slowly. His gaze slides across your face, lingers on your lips, and then meets yours again.

"Tell me I have to stop." - He whispers, leaning closer, barely touching your cheek with his nose. "I won't touch you unless you let me." - He says it quietly but confidently. And this is the cruelest thing. Because you don't know what will be worse for you - if he actually touches you or if he pulls away.

You want to tell him to stop. You really do. But instead, your fingers involuntarily clamp down on the fabric of his jacket, not allowing you to move away.

"I can't..." - You give up. So quickly, so foolishly. This admission was enough.

His lips touch your neck very lightly, causing a shiver to run through your body. You sigh, tilting your head as if to give him more access. And he does not refuse.

"Why do you still have this effect on me?" - You protest out loud. He was quiet, almost broken by his own feelings. He ran his fingers along your collarbone, causing your eyes to close.

"Because we never really let go of each other." - He said what you needed to hear. What you hadn't allowed yourself to admit for six months.

You inhale sharply, meeting his gaze. Deep, dark, full of desire. Another moment, and this thin line between temptation and prohibition disappear completely.

"Let's get out of here." - His voice sounded almost like an order, but you knew it was not just a desire. It was a need. Your shared need for each other.

You nodded, and he immediately took your hand, intertwining your fingers. You left the hall quickly, without looking back. The night city greeted you with cool air, but a fire burned inside you.

Jungkook opened the car door for you, and you got in, feeling your heart pounding madly in your chest. He quickly walked around the car, got behind the wheel, and in a moment you were already pulling out of the parking lot.

"Where are we going?" - You asked, even though the answer wasn't that important. Jungkook gave you a dark, hot, intoxicating look.

"To my place." - He answered. Your heart literally threatens to jump out of your chest. The sensation of butterflies in your stomach excites you to incredible emotions. He puts his tattooed hand on your thigh, as if to claim you. You can feel your underwear getting wet in anticipation of what will happen at Jungkook's house.

"This is crazy." - You say, barely audible. Jungkook smiled.

"And you like it." - He said, still smiling. You wanted to deny it, but why would you, when it's really true.

Jungkook closes the door behind you, and you immediately find yourself pressed against the wall. His lips are so demanding, so powerful over yours. Your insides tremble because it's all so familiar to you. It feels like the six months of separation just didn't happen.

Your hot breath mingled with his as he pulled away from you to take a breath. He was looking at your face. Your eyes were slightly squinted, your lips swollen from kissing, your skin burning from his touch. You were as beautiful as the first night he fell in love with you.

"Are we really going to do this?" - You asked. Your voice broke into a whisper as he ran his fingertips down your neck, along your collarbone, and even lower to the neckline of your dress.

"Yes..." - He says hoarsely, between kisses on your neck. "I should stop, shouldn't I?" - He asks your opinion. You want to moan as he bites your skin and then runs his tongue over the spot.

"Jungkook..." - You breathe out. You don't know if you're begging him to continue or to stop. He stops kissing your neck. Your faces are separated by a few centimeters.

"Last chance to say no, my love." - He says. Fuck, he called you "love," he called you that because he loved you, does he still love you? You ran your fingers along his jaw, gently but firmly.

"Do you want me to say it?" - You ask with a challenge. Let him decide too, you are not the only one responsible for your actions. He squeezes your buttocks with his hands.

"No." - Jungkook says confidently. You smile seductively, giving him the green light. But he's in no hurry to continue what he's started. You know he's waiting for the words.

"Fuck me, love." - You ask. Jungkook's cock twitches in his boxers when he hears those words. Fuck. How can you say that so easily? He's going crazy. He throws himself on your lips, pressing his strong body against yours. His tongue enters your mouth with authority and finds yours. Six months. Six fucking months he wanted you back. He dreamed that you would be in his hands like this. And he made a promise to himself that if he could get you back, he would never let you go again.

Your underwear is getting wet. You are so excited that you think you will burn with passion. Jungkook's tongue seems to be punishing you for being away for so long. His hands are squeezing the meat on your buttocks with good pressure. He picks you up in his arms, and you only cry out softly, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Jungkook puts you down on the floor in his bedroom, interrupting your unrestrained kisses. He lightly touches your silk shoulder and runs his finger under the strap of your dress. He sees your erect nipples through the fabric of your dress. One movement and the shoulder strap is on falling down. He does the same with the other strap. He pulls down the silk and it slides over your figure.

As the dress falls to the floor, gathering at your feet, a picture he literally imagined when he saw it at the party flashes before his eyes.

His cock hardens even more, because your naked body is a frenzy. It's his weakness. That's what makes him commit sin.

He takes your tits in his hands and squeezes it. He feels that you are real. That he is not dreaming about you, as he has been for the last six months. He bends down and eagerly sucks on your erect nipple. Oh, it's a rosebud on his tongue. It tastes so sweet. Jungkook plays with your nipple with his tongue. When he sucks harder, you feel pain, pain that brings pleasure and sweet agony. Jungkook massages the other breast in his hand, and then smoothly moves to the other breast to savor it as well.

You throw your head back and enjoy his actions. You're addicted to the way he crosses the line.

Your pussy is throbbing and you're wetter than ever. You haven't had intimate relations since you broke up with Jungkook, so now you're just going crazy with every move.

Jungkook pulls away from your chest and smiles. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his hard cock sticking out of his pants.

He comes close and puts one arm around your waist. You watch him closely. He leans in and you think he's going to kiss you. You even close your eyes, but when nothing happens, you open them to check where he is. He's right there, and he's wearing a cheeky, sly smile.

"Let's see how wet my girl is." - He suggests. His hand goes into your panties, instantly finding your excited clit. He presses his fingers on it and you forget how to breathe.

"Fuck. Honey, is this waterfall for me?" - He asks you, and you can't answer him because you're losing your mind to his movements on your clit. You moan, loud and seductive. Jungkook can't help but kiss you. He covers your lips with his own and kisses you deeply, hotly, while building up your orgasm with his fingers.

You moan into his lips. Jungkook plunges two fingers into your passage and wants to curse. He forgot how tight it is in here. He's angry, thinking that someone else could be in that pussy besides him. So his movements and kisses become rougher.

The pressure he creates with his fingers excites you even more. You like it, but it's not enough because it's not his cock.

Jungkook gently lays you down on the bed, which is so familiar. It has witnessed your love so many times. Jungkook pulls down your thong. He looks at your pussy with great greed, the thong sliding down your slender legs. When your underwear is in his hand, he is in no hurry to throw it away. He touches the fabric with his nose, inhaling your scent.

"This is what my love smells like." - He says. You blush. This is so damn intimate. Jungkook throws your thong somewhere near your dress at floor. You watching him.

He's still as handsome as ever. A slim, toned body where every muscle is visible when it moves. You know so well what those muscles are to the touch. Only he seems to have new tattoos on his right arm. You notice that the eye that was below the elbow is gone, and now there is a green ink mark that says "bulletproof" instead. Oh yes, it's really about him.

"Did you have sex with anyone after me?" - Jungkook distracts you from looking at his tattoos. You raise one eyebrow. Why would he want to know in the middle of your lovemaking?

"Why do you ask?" - You don't answer, but ask your own question. Jungkook takes off his pants and throws them somewhere else.

"Answer me." - He says with authority. And this word sounds more like an order. You resent this. Why do you have to talk to him about it? You, for example, know without a doubt that he has definitely fucked some girls.

"Does it matter to you?" - You ask, not listening to his order. It matters to him. He was your first man, and the thought of anyone touching your body, which is unprecedentedly his, pisses him off.

Jungkook takes off his boxers. You can see his cock, hard and erect, hitting his thighs. You salivate at the sight of it. Jungkook's nude figure drives you crazy. You dream of him entering you and finally destroying you and all your desires not to be with him.

Jungkook approaches you dangerously.

He grabs your ankle and pulls you to the edge of the bed with a sharp movement. You scream, not expecting him to do this. He sits you down on the edge of the bed and leans in almost touching you. His lips are near yours and his breath burns your skin.

"Answer me when I ask you questions. Because when I want to know something, it's important to me. So, will you tell me? Did some dickhead touch my pussy? Or at least your tits, which also belong to me?" - He speaks low and commanding. His voice echoes in your head. How does he have such power over you? Why are you so excited by these words? You want to tease him more. You know it could be dangerous, but you've always been a gambler.

"What would you do if I told you that dickhead were?" - You ask. Your words have an immediate effect on Jungkook. His eyebrows raise and his eyes darken with rage. He lifts you up, pulling on your arm. It doesn't hurt, but it's sharp. He presses you down and you feel his erect cock resting against your pussy.

"So you're saying you were?" - He asks, but his voice isn't as hard as he looks. "You promised you'd be mine alone. My little slut. You wouldn't let anyone fuck your pussy. You're lying to me." - He says, smiling defiantly.

"I didn't lie. I asked you what you would do if I was like you and found a free cock? Huh?" - You ask with the same audacity. Jungkook squeezes your buttocks.

"I'd wipe him off the face of the earth." - He says casually. "Because he touched something that's mine."

"I'm not yours." - You say. But what are you saying? You are his. Every cell of that body belongs to him. You can't be with other men because you've never met anyone who can compare to him.

"Mine." - He argues with a wide smile on his lips. It makes you angry, even though you agree with him. "You're still mine... that's why you're here now. No one can touch you like I can, no one can love you like I can, no one can fuck you like I can, no one can keep your secrets like I can. I will give you all of this, and I will never let you go." - The lump in your throat prevents you from breathing normally.

You hold back the tears that threaten to fall down. Let these words be true. Let him keep his promise. Because you want to be with him. Jungkook breaks into you with a kiss to assure you of his words. Two lonely tears drops melt between your hot kiss. Jungkook pulls away and you breathe heavily into his lips. He wipes away the tear tracks with his thumbs.

"I haven't had anyone." - You confess, your voice desperate. "I couldn't even bear a strange man touching my body. So you are right. I couldn't be with anyone else." - Jungkook smiles with satisfaction. He knew that.

Jungkook sits on the edge of the bed and invites you to sit on his lap. You climb on top, holding onto his shoulders. Jungkook's cock lies between you, and you look hopefully between your bodies. Jungkook touches your chin with two fingers and lifts it, forcing you to look at him.

"I need to stretch you first, baby. You haven't had sex in a long time." - Jungkook says with pleasure in his voice. You nod your head in agreement.

Jungkook puts one hand on your hip and moves the other to your pussy. He dips one finger into the passage and moves the top down, creating some friction. You sigh blissfully, closing your eyes. After a while, he plunges his other finger in. The pressure increases and you moan softly. And when Jungkook plunges his third finger in, you feel a slight discomfort. It's only his fingers, when he puts his cock in it will hurt.

Jungkook has stretched you properly, and then he invites you to ride him.

"Give me a good ride." - He asks you. You smile and get up to sit on his attractive cock. Jungkook puts his cock’s head against your entrance and presses. You slowly lower yourself and when his tip plunges into your passage, you almost immediately feel pain. You scream out in pain and he stops, but not for long. He gives you a few seconds and then pushes down on your hips, lowering you. You're in pain, and you bite your lip to hold back your screams.

Finally you are filled with his cock to the brim. You feel it twitching inside you.

"Fuckin' shit." - Jungkook curses. He holds back as best he can. He really forgot how tight you are.

You sit like this for no more than half a minute. In the meantime, Jungkook has been working on your clit to get you used to its length. You squeeze his shoulders. He kisses you and you want to get down to the real business.

You start moving on his hips, lifting yours. The first movements are accompanied by pain. But after a while it feels good. You squirm on his lap and let out strangled moans. Jungkook helps you by supporting your hips and admires his beloved's face. It eloquently shows pleasure.

"How do you like riding my cock? Huh, baby? Did you miss it?" - Jungkook asks playfully. His voice breaks because you're riding his cock so well.

"Yeah..." - You answer in a long breath. It feels so good, it's pure ecstasy, it's euphoria. You're chasing an orgasm and he's taking you there.

"Let's make this reconciliation unforgettable." - Jungkook suggests. He takes over the initiative with his hands. He squeezes your thighs harder and pushes you deep and sharp. Your head is spinning from these movements. You bite your lips again, but Jungkook moves closer to you. "Don't hold back the moans I deserve." - He orders. You stop biting your lips, and now your loud moans fill the entire room.

Jungkook has found just the right spot. You feel like you're about to come. Your fingernails tear off the skin on his shoulders.

"Love..." - You call out to him. "I'm close."

Jungkook absorbs your expression with an absolutely lustful gaze. He speeds up his movements, but not so that he can come. He's definitely not done with you yet. You raise and lower your hips on Jungkook's lap to finally have the orgasm you've been waiting for.

When the knot in your lower abdomen is untied, you throw your head back and moan long and hard. Your velvety walls are squeezed by Jungkook's cock, and he jerks you upward to keep from cumming himself. You don't realize it right away. Only when you're on your knees, resting your pussy against Jungkook's abs, and you feel his hands on your buttocks.

"What a good girl. You have your first orgasm." - He counts.

Jungkook orders you to lie down on the pillows and spread your legs for him. He positions himself between your legs without sinking into you. He kisses you on the lips, filling your mouth with his tongue. Your tongues intertwine in a dance of love and passion. When you need air, Jungkook breaks the kiss. He goes down to your jaw, then your neck. He savored every inch of your skin, memorizing it again, as if he were discovering something long forgotten but painfully familiar.

He covered your body with kisses until he was in front of your pussy. The memory of his tongue on your clit makes you wet. Jungkook kisses your folds with a weightless kiss, and you're already trembling. He smiles out of the corner of his mouth.

"I forgot how sweet she is." - He comments. You lift your head to see him between your legs. He kisses the inside of your thighs, not wanting to leave an inch of skin on you that he hasn't kissed.

When he begins to lick your clit, making circular motions around your clit, you can't hold your head up. You fall back on the pillows. Your back arches unconsciously. Jungkook squeezes your buttocks and then sucks on your center. You moan again, and Jungkook thinks he'll never get tired of the sound. He's happy that he's the only one who hears these sounds.

You come on his tongue very quickly. Your swollen, excited clit didn't need much attention. You jerk on his tongue and Jungkook presses his tongue against your center to make sure you have your second orgasm of the night as long as possible.

You stop twitching and breathe heavily. Jungkook kneels down by your spread legs and you can see his beard glistening with your juice. He wipes his chin with his hand and comes closer to you.

"Is my baby satisfied?" - He asks. You are almost unable to speak. You smile and barely speak.

"It was just as fucking gorgeous as ever.” - Jungkook laughs heartily, and once again wants to kiss you. You taste your cum on his tongue. His kisses become slower, deeper.

"I've been waiting for this for so long..." - His voice was quiet, almost hoarse, when he broke away from your lips. You, too, had secretly dreamed that you would have the opportunity to be together again. And who knows how it all will worked out.

Jungkook plunged into you again. His cock entered you painlessly this time. You couldn't get enough, because this is what you will always need. You bent to meet his touch, feeling your bodies merging in a single rhythm.

Every movement was slow, as if he wanted to prolong this moment as long as possible.

Jungkook knew every curve of your body, every weakness that made you sigh and tremble. But this time it was different. Deeper. Stronger. It wasn't just desire. It was something more.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as your lips found each other again. He was everything to you that night - a fire that burned from the inside out, and a sea that enveloped you in its waves.

He took his time.

You didn't want it to end.

Your breaths mingle, hot and uneven, as his movements become stronger. He feels a wave of some new emotions, as if he is rediscovering a familiar body.

"You have no idea how much I..." - Jungkook stops, his lips barely touching yours. You open your eyes and stare into his handsome face. You notice beads of sweat on his face and a few loose strands of hair.

"How much what?" - Your voice sounds almost hoarse, and he smiles because he knows you're on the verge.

"How much I missed you." - He finally whispers. You don't have time to say anything because Jungkook is pushing you. You lie in his arms. Your legs are intertwined around his waist. He is deep inside you and this is the best moment of the whole year.

His movements are slow and deep at first, but with each new one he speeds up. He fucks you like never before, and you close your eyes, enjoying the sensation. You feel another orgasm coming over you. Jungkook's hips thrust fast and you choke on the sweetest orgasm of the night.

Jungkook comes after you, filling you to the brim with cum. He jerks inside you for a while and stops only when he releases himself with a whimper.

He collapses into the crook of your neck and you both breathe heavily. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. His heavy breathing mingles with yours, and your heart hasn't yet returned to its normal rhythm. Your throat is dry, and you urgently need water.

Jungkook finally stands up and smiles at you with satisfaction. You reflexively do the same.

"You... water?" - Your voice breaks, and you're almost ashamed of how weak it sounds. Jungkook smiles slightly, realizing that you're asking him for water.

"Just a moment, my love." - He says and pecking on your lips. He gently pulls out of you. You try to sit up and cover yourself with the blanket you had sex on.

Jungkook puts on his boxers, finds a bottle of water on the table, unscrews the cap, and hands it to you. You take a few sips, trying to come to your senses. Jungkook sits down next to you, rests his hands on the bed on either side of your hips, and looks you straight in the eye.

"I don't want to let you go anymore." - He says clearly. You freeze.

"Jungkook..." - You want to say something, but you find yourself unceremoniously interrupted by him.

"I'm serious." - He interrupts. "I was an idiot for letting you leave back then. I thought it was for the best, that you and I would destroy each other if we stayed together. But you know what? It was even worse without you."

You look at him, feeling something hot squeezing your chest.

"I don't know if..." - If we should start again. You want to say. But he interrupts you again. The conversations during sex were frank, but now that you're back to reality, things are just as complicated as they were.

"I know." - His large hands gently wrap around yours. "And I'm going to do everything I can to make up for my mistakes. I don't want just one night, Y/N. I want everything. I want you. I want our future."

You see the sincerity in his dark eyes, and it almost scares you. You're afraid, even though you really want to start over.

"What if it doesn't work out again?" - You share your worries.

"I will make it work. Every day. Every time you doubt, I'll prove to you that I love you more than ever." - He leans in slowly, giving you a chance to stop him. But you don't. Your lips meet again, and this time the kiss is not so hot, not so hasty. It's deeper, more tender.

Like a hope.

Like a promise.

"Let's try again." - You agree. You look into his eyes, reading everything he didn't say out loud: fear, hope, devotion. Jungkook has never been a man to give up easily, and now he was proving it again.

Your fingers involuntarily squeeze his hand, as if checking to see if he is real, if this moment is real.

"Do you promise we will?"

He leans in even closer, his forehead touching yours.

"I promise." - He whispers. And this time you believe him.

Like the northern lights that appear only at certain moments, your feelings had their peaks and troughs, but they were always on the horizon. You could get lost in each other, disappear, losing light, but you came back, blooming with new colors.

Because your love is like the sky itself. Eternal. Unpredictable. And worth waiting for.

[poseidonsworst]

I also lost my cat of 13 years in October.

His name was Larry. My big silly boy was with me through my years long mental health crisis in high school, my recovery through that the first year of college, and the decline of my physical health during the rest. Him and Lady Macbeth were such important constant friends through all of that. I often credit them with saving my life a few times while my mental health was at it's lowest. Even if they were more Disservice Animals than they were service animals once my physical health started to go.

He was such a silly, ridiculous cat. I didn't take near enough pictures of him, but it was still hard to choose which ones to put here.

He used to play fetch with hair ties and rubber bands, and his favorite places to be were either snuggled up with Lady or on his favorite blanket in my lap (pulling out my head phone cable or messing with my keyboard!!)

He was obsessed with yogurt and sitting on top of fridges. And when my chronic pain made me too squirmy to be a comfortable lap, he'd squish himself onto this rickety old kitten-sized cat tree just to be near me. It was way to small for him, and wobbled whenever he shifted. It honestly took a lot longer for it to break under his big ass than I thought it would, but he still hung out there.

About a year and a half ago I developed MCAS, which is basically Allergic To Everything Disorder, and what was previously a minor cat allergy escalated to the point where I couldn't breathe if my babies were in the same room as me. I had to go send them to live with my parents, and it was several months into that time when Larry was diagnosed with jaw cancer.

The chances of him pulling through were to slim to put him through all the surgery and chemo treatment would entail, so I decided that allergies be damned I was gonna spend as much time with him as I could.

I got about a week.

The vet told me I'd know when it was time, and that time came when he'd only eat if I hand fed him. He crawled up on my chest, looked at me, and started pawing at his face like he was asking me to do something about it. He was already on a lot of pain meds, so the best thing I could do for him was let go.

During that last week he still curled up on my lap on his favorite blanket, and ambled after some rubber bands I shot across the room. I made an appointment for a specialty vet come to my house so he could be comfortable and I could hold him as he went.

Despite that, I managed to put off grieving him because I'd already mourned having to send them to live away from me. This post is what I finally needed to pull his ashes out of the closet and finally properly welcome him home, so he can sit on my lap on his favorite blanket.

Thank you Larry for being my best friend through so much, I'll always love you my big stinky man.

Lyra, my beloved cat of 13 years, passed away this year on Father's Day. She's been by my side through very difficult times and was my little rock of steady and unrelenting love. I struggled a lot drawing this, and struggled a lot posting it, but I know I would've wanted to read a comic like this that validated my grief for her when I lost her.

Wherever you are, Lyra my little summer star, I love you always! Thank you for being the best thing in my life.

[spiderfunkz]

MAGNETIC

pairings. se-mi x gn!reader

cw. very socially anxious reader, established relationship, fluff.

author's note: hehe i love se-mi. also please send requests for squid game characters!! check out the characters i write for here.

se-mi was so undeniably cool.

you couldn't decide what made you so attracted to her in the first place. she was the complete opposite of you, but you know what people say, opposites attract. she was confident, witty and funny, she had piercings that shined just right under lights, her hair was so effortlessly put together, she was like a magnet!

she tried to keep it casual between you, but is anything ever just casual with her? she would hold your hand in public spaces, rub your back when you felt down, her words were as light as air and travelled to your ears like wind.

it went on until you two decided to date. and today, she's set up the perfect night at a restaurant, just the two of you. the skies were clear of rain, the streets were lit in an orange-like-tone, and though your heart was beating rapidly— se-mi held your waist gently.

the restaurant was more crowded than you'd imagine. fortunately, se-mi booked a booth that was quite secluded. it didn't really cover how much your ears were ringing though, you've never been good with crowds or loud places. it has always made you anxious, your feet was bouncing up and down, and your heart was still beating rapidly.

the waiter came not long after, you were trying to focus on the words of the page.

"hello, wonderful night we're having, i'll be your waiter. what can i get you two?" the waiter's voice echoed your eyes. se-mi ordered her meal of choice before her eyes laid on you. she's intelligent, nothing can go past without her notice.

"and what would you like?" the waiter's eyes were on you now, you could sense the pressure building slowly but surely. like a tide, a huge wave will come soon. "um," you struggled to get the correct words out— "i'm sorry, i'm not sure,"— you flip through the pages swiftly, as if that'll help. no pictures on the menu either.

you look at se-mi and shook your head lightly, just enough for her to notice. "uh, we'll take a moment, that's all for now." she states, the waiter repeats her order before walking away.

"it's okay, you can take your time, baby. i can call the waiter anytime if you'd like."

"no, it's just," you took a sharp inhale, "i'm fine." se-mi's brows furrowed. you took deep breaths, just like how she guided you. "i'm okay," you nodded, se-mi offered her hand in which you held it tight.

"okay, deep breaths," she smiled, "no one is pressuring you. remember that."

"the waiter kept clicking their pen," — "that doesn't mean anything, they're probably just making sure to get your order right, it's their job."

you sigh, se-mi played with the rings on your finger, "you wanna order now? they've got your favorites on the menu. take your time."

"i'll buy you ice cream after." she kisses your hand, specifically your ring finger.

[cyberteez]

pt.1 - pretty

pairing ⋆ seonghwa x afab!reader

genre ⋆ smut, angst

wc ⋆ 2.6k

summary ⋆ when money is tight and rent is short, you and your partner turn to posting adult content online.

warnings ⋆ reader has anxiety, money troubles, unprotected sex, slight oral fixation, top!seonghwa, bottom!reader, creampie, multiple orgasms

networks ⋆ @illusionnet @cromernet @pirateeznet

series masterlist

"Rent's short again."

A sigh.

"I can't use my credit card again."

Silence fills the kitchen as the pair face each other. Your gaze flickers between the bills present on your dimly lit computer screen and the man that sits across from you. His polished nails drag slowly through his scalp, face contorting as he thinks.

"Well… what are we going t-" you begin.

"I don't know, pretty," he interjects, pushing air between his teeth.

Seonghwa backs away from the counter, his steps heavy as he exits the room. Disappearing down the hallway, you hear the slam of a door. Your hands cradle your face, eyes welling with unshed tears as you shut the laptop lid. This isn't what you expected when you had agreed to move in with him. To no fault of either of you, your landlord decided to raise the rent midway through your lease, straining your finances to the max. Even working nearly fifty hours in a week wasn't enough to cover your expenses in the more affluent neighborhood you had settled into. Stress ate away at your very being, leaving you cold and anxious all the time.

Seonghwa reappeared in what felt like hours. You had curled up on the couch soon after he hid himself away, blankets bunched around your figure, exhausted sleep overtaking your mind with ease. He settled next to you on the cushion, hand coming to pet your hair till you stirred. A whimper left your mouth as you stretched your legs, shifting to lay against him.

"I'm sorry," he said lowly.

"S'fine," you mumble in response.

Seonghwa stays silent for a few minutes, continuously petting your hair, untangling knots and dragging his blunt nails against your scalp. When he does speak, it surprises you. "I think I know a way to get the money."

"How?"

"You know how we've taken videos of each other?"

Your mind blanks, thinking back to times where you recorded his silly reaction to dragon's breath, or times he's taken videos of the two of you riding amusement park attractions.

"Be more specific?" You query, still not picking up what he's hinting at.

"Like… like us. In the bedroom," he sheepishly remarks.

"Ah." Is all you can manage at first. Then, "you want us to post our sex life online? Like making porn?"

His face turns a delicate shade of red as you look up at him. A giggle worms its way from your mouth, Seonghwa joining in as soon as he realized you weren't upset.

"Yea, we can do that," you answer. "You act as if we haven't chatted about this before."

It was true. The pair of you had considered it in the past, but the fear of being found by friends, family, potential or current employers were enough to make you halt. Now, the notion of being homeless and in debt outweighed anything else.

"So we're gonna become amateur porn stars, huh."

It wasn't hard to get the right supplies. You basically had everything you needed anyway. Seonghwa proposed a first person point of view during the videos, to make it feel more intimate. You had no objections.

Dressed in the prettiest and shortest pink skirt you owned and a cute cream top, you sit patiently on the bed, waiting for your lover. Your hair falls cutely around your face, framing the lacey mask that serves as a basic disguise. While not the most concealing, it would still provide some cover as to not tip off anyone you knew. You decided to go without a bra, but opted for some sweet panties that hugged your hips nicely. When Seonghwa entered the room, you almost couldn't hold your laugh in. While his facecard was beautiful, the camera attached to him looked plain silly. He basically had a go-pro on, but you reminded yourself it was for the money, so you dealt with the awkwardness.

"Is that thing gonna get the right angle?" You asked, adjusting your pose so you sat on your hands.

"We're gonna find out, I guess. It feeds to the laptop, so lemme get it set up and we can adjust from there."

After a few minutes of finagling, you both agreed on the view from the camera. His long fingers ghosted over the keys, logging into the site you would be using.

He announces, while still facing away from you, "My thought is we can do a couple basic videos to start off with, then maybe we could move to live streaming?"

You nod your head, not realizing he wouldn't know your response. Seonghwa turns around to look at you and you nod your head once more. "My bad. Yea, that sounds good to me. Ready to get started?" He nods.

Nerves buzz through your limbs, settling in your fingers that remain securely under your thighs. His gait is relaxed as he steps to the edge of the bed where you sit. He gives you a silent look. One that asks if you're ready to go through with this. You blink up at him a few times before exhaling the breath you were holding and nodding once.

A click of the camera and a red light blinking once before becoming stagnant indicates that the scene has started. Your nerves settle almost instantly. A hand smooths over the skin of your cheek, cupping it softly. To say your reaction was instantaneous wouldn't be descriptive enough. You keen into his palm, allowing him to smooth the thoughts from your mind. His fingers glide down to pinch your chin between them. He pulls your gaze up to his, whispering, "Just look at me, pretty."

Heat pools in your lower abdomen at his words, staring directly into the camera as if it were his own eyes. As the grip on your chin recedes, his thumb drags at your lower lip. You eagerly open your mouth for him, allowing him to slip the thumb inside and flatten it against your tongue. A heavy whimper falls from your open mouth, allowing him to play with it how he pleases. Your fingers itch to touch him, but you know he'd stop his motions if you did. He leans in, getting a better view at the saliva pooling in your mouth before angling downward at your tits. His free hand smoothes over your chest, cupping the bottom of one before moving on to the next. A sigh escapes his lips as he leans back, seemingly lost in thought.

Seonghwa's hand tugs the button on his pants free, pulling the sides open enough to slip his member free from the confines. Even after being with him for years, you're always shocked at how thick and long he manages to be. Your eyes flicker from the camera to his length, waiting for permission.

The thumb that rests in your mouth leaves as his hand cards through your hair, grip becoming firm as he guides you to his length. The salty precum leaking from his tip covers your tastebuds as you take him in your mouth. You moan at the taste.

His breathing becomes heavier the more you take into your mouth. Whatever you can't fit into your mouth is cradled by your hands that slipped from underneath you. A tug at your scalp has you looking up at him, eyes wide and starting to tear.

"Did I say to stop looking at me?" He asks gruffly, eyes narrowing slightly.

Your response is to take him deeper in your mouth, a slightly bratty move and momentarily gagging yourself, but providing the exact reaction you wanted. A guttural sound resounds from his throat, head tipping back as you work yourself on his length. He doesn't stop you. Pulling back to where his tips just rests in your mouth, you lick the soft underside of his head before pushing yourself to your limit.

"Fuck, pretty, you take me so well," he muses.

Breathing through your nose, you continue to take him, sucking whenever you pull back and licking at his veins whenever you push in. Tears track down your cheeks, continuously pushing past your lids whenever he bumps the back of your throat. Whines and whimpers fall from your mouth, becoming loud every time his grip tightens in your hair. Your hands cradle his balls, kneading them between your palms, eliciting breathy moans from your lover. He fights to keep the camera angle on you, desperately trying to not lose himself to the shockwaves of pleasure you give him. It doesn't take long before he's pulling you off his cock completely, pushing your body backward on the bed and flipping up your skirt. His hands greedily pull at your thighs, teasing and tickling along the innermost parts, but avoiding where you need him the most.

"So cute, pretty. Did you get all dolled up for me?" He asks, getting a better view of the panties that are currently sticking to your lips. They're nearly see through at this point, dripping from the arousal that's pooled between your legs. "And you're so worked up, aren't you? Do you think you deserve to be touched?"

You nod furiously at his words, your lower lip starting to pout. A breezy chuckle leaves his lips before his hands are tugging down the soft material, discarding it somewhere behind him. Two of his fingers spread your lower lips, giving the camera a better view of your dripping cunt. You nearly forgot you were filming, so wrapped up in giving him pleasure and chasing your own. A whine erupts from your throat the moment Seonghwa circles his fingers around your puffy and untouched clit. He smiles softly before dipping them just inside your cunt, dragging them back up to circle around your clit once more. You can tell he's testing you when he does it a few more times, a huff nearly falling from your lips at his teasing. The impatience quickly dissipates as both fingers plunge into your heat, curling up slightly before pulling back. Your head falls back against your shoulders, obscuring your face from the camera. His motions stop. You lift your head quickly, looking back at him as he shakes his head lightly.

Seonghwa resumes his motions and each time he delves inside, his fingers loosen your walls to prepare for his length. He murmurs small encouragements all the while, praising you for how pliant you are, how pretty your pussy sounds for him. Your abdomen continues to knot further and further, the coil threatening to snap at any time. His free hand rests on your clit, rubbing small circles in order to throw you into your climax. With a cry you come undone, your cunt sucking his fingers in. He continues his motions until you squirm away from his touch, pleading with him to stop.

You can hear him shuffle around and his pants hit the floor before the bed dips and he straddles you. Hands push at your shirt, freeing your tits for the camera. Seonghwa kneads at them and tugs at your nipples, giving each a slight smack. His hands travel down your hips, grabbing at your thighs to wrap them around his waist.

"Is my princess ready to take my cock?"

"Please," you beg, looking pointedly into the camera.

"Since you asked so nicely, how could I refuse?" His length glides through your folds, tapping gently against your abused clit. The motion elicits more sounds from your mouth, increasing in volume as he pushes in with one move.

"Ngh, yes," you whine when you feel his hips meet yours. One of his hands splay over your stomach, holding you down as he starts to move.

"God, fuck," he starts, "you're so tight, pretty."

The drag of his cock against your walls is delicious, rubbing everywhere you need and filling you so nicely you couldn't think of anyone but him. His pace remains consistent, but he moves your legs in different positions until they both rest against his shoulders.

You cry out at this new angle, his cock hitting the spongy patch inside with abandon. His thumb finds your mouth again and you readily open for the appendage once more. You pose for the camera, batting your wide, innocent eyes and sucking on his thumb as his hips smack heavily against your thighs. You know he's close when his pace increases, but loses rhythm. The thumb in your mouth moves to circle your clit once more. Heat pools in your belly once more, another climax threatening to unleash.

"Come on, pretty, cum with me."

It's not but seconds later when you both fall apart with each other, your walls milking him for all he has. Seonghwa doesn't immediately stop recording. Instead, he pulls out and closes in on your cunt, spreading your lips and allowing globs of cum to seep from your stretched hole. When he pans back to your sweat sheened body, he clicks the camera off.

It's like a switch clicked as soon as the camera was off and discarded on the desk nearby.

"How are you doing, baby? Let me get a cloth. Or do you want to go straight to the bath?" A smile graces your lips in response. Just like the first time you spent the night together, he's always fretted over you after you have had sex. It was something you appreciated as past partners had never considered you. You sigh contently, slowly pushing yourself up.

"Let's go take a shower and then work on editing the footage, okay?"

"Of course," he responds, taking your hand and leading the way.

Lathering soap across both of your bodies, you talk about how the scene went, praising him for providing direction so easily. His hands shake, words coming out jumbled as he attempts to compliment you. He worries over your body, taking extra care when scrubbing your scalp, easing the tension from the grip he had in your hair. Seonghwa soon scatters kisses across your shoulders, murmurs of affection and adoration filling the steamy room.

Working on the video didn't take much time as you didn't want it to look heavily edited. You sat in his lap for most of it, his arms wrapped down your waist while you gave feedback on what you could both do better next time. Posting the video was the hard part. Well… emotionally at least. You both sat there for a while, pondering titles and wondering if you would actually go through with this. It would–hopefully–provide the needed income, but you would be putting that out there forever. Anxiety crept into your being as you worried if you looked good enough for something like this. Seonghwa soothed you while you worked through the heavy feelings, rubbing your back softly and pressing kisses around your face. Nothing could compare to you is what he told you, that you were beautiful and if the viewers couldn't see it they were blind.

Eventually, you calmed down enough to ask,  "what should we name it?"

It was a challenge. Trying to think of something that wasn't going to blend in with all the other content on the site but was also eye-catching enough to gain views.

"How about: Pretty? It's what I call you, and it's unique enough. As long as the tags fit then it should still be seen."

"I like it. Let's do it." Enthusiasm and warmth fills your chest as you both click on the mouse to post the finished product. You don't expect immediate views, nor do you receive them right after posting, but you hope it'll be enough to cover rent the next month.

© cyberteez 2025

[stxneflxwers]

worthwhile.

cw. hurt/comfort. feelings of worthlessness / self-hatred. lowercase. self-indulgent.

"i'm worthless."

aventurine didn't want to believe his ears. but he couldn't ignore what he heard, either. he didn't know how to respond, though. he was an expert in "comforting" others with what they wanted to hear. but you're different – so very different. now, he finds his throat dry, his tongue wordless.

"haha, sorry! i don't mean to talk like that... well, not too often, anyway." you wave your hands defensively, a wry and empty smile touching your features.

"don't lie to me." he blurts out.

"...huh?" you blink, dull eyes temporarily widening.

"i said – don't lie to me." he echoes, softer this time.

"sorry. i'm really sorry..." you grimace at your own mistake, holding back pent-up tears that span a lifetime of delusional self-hatred.

you really are worthless, aren't you? you sigh inwardly. the softness, the concern pitted in his voice goes unnoticed. and then he steps closer to you, his vibrant yet all-knowing gaze searching your expression.

"don't say sorry, either," he whispers, "i just... i want you to realize your worth. and i know this is a load of bull coming from me of all people, but..." he starts with bated breath before forcing a deep breath, "...you are worth so much. you're alive, right? you're worthwhile. you're worth every damn broken bone and mended heart."

your mouth hangs open, and silence becomes you. now you're the one with the dry throat, the wordless tongue. and then you smile, as tender as your heart may be.

"you should try saying that to the mirror, you know." you tease lovingly.

"yeah, yeah," he chuckles softly, waving you off, but he won't forget, he never can. "...but, please..." he pleads, a rare sight indeed, "treat my friend with a little bit more respect."

"i..." you sputter before a sunny grin graces your features, bright enough to lead him through his own darkness. "i will. but, you'll have to treat my friend with a little bit more respect, too. deal?" you offer your hand for a shake, a promise.

"deal–" he takes your hand, and you pull him into a tight embrace.

"thank you... my friend."

[siri-ike]

"Hello. I need someone at Wayne Manor. Someone just died... I think." Bruce had locked himself in the nearest room. Thankfully, one of the wireless phones was in there. "I don't know who it was, but he looked like he could be about 15 or 16, and he had white hair. He just, melted, into some kind of goo." He tried to catch his breath, but he couldn't. The thoughts circling around in his head just wouldn't leave him alone. Why was Alfred so calm? Why didn't he want to call the police? Was the detective here yesterday because of this? Did Alfred kill that boy? No! Alfred would never do something like that! There has to be a better explanation. "Can you send Lieutenant Gordon, please?" Jim can find the answer. He can trust Jim. "Hello?" Isn't there supposed to be someone on the other end? Telling him to be calm in a situation where it's impossible to be calm?

"Danny. We can explain everything."

Bruce throws the phone across the room. It's, it's the detective from yesterday. He must be behind this. Everyone knows the cops in Gotham are dirty.

"Master, Bruce. Listen, it's not what it looks like." He's probably forcing Alfred to help him, too. That's why he was so weird at dinner.

Windows locked. He must have planned for this. Was all of this premeditated? Was he supposed to see that? Bruce tried to find anything heavy enough to break the window, but of course, this room was practically a padded cell.

He had to settle for wrapping his jacket around his fist. The glass was more decorative than sturdy, so it wasn't that hard to break. But it was loud. He had to kick it a couple of times to make the hole big enough. Then he stopped. What was he thinking? They're just going to get more aggressive now. And it's not like he can just leave. Where would he go? His hand really hurts.

He was alerted to the door by scratching and light clinking noises. They're picking the lock. He sneaks over to the bathroom, careful not to leave a blood trail.

The door bursts open, footsteps rush into the room, and someone jumps out the window. It was all one sound, but Bruce knew exactly what happened. He let's out a silent, sigh of relief. He waits a moment to make sure he can't hear any movement. He looks through the key hole in the bathroom door before cautiously opening it. The room is empty. The emergency phone should work. He can get there in 7 minutes flat. He'd timed himself dozens of times.

The door to the hallway was left open. Best not to touch it in case he comes back before Bruce gets discovered. The second he crept past the door, he felt a pair of eyes on him.

Alfred grabbed his left sleeve, but Bruce simply ripped it off and bolted away as fast as he could. He made it out of the family wing and through the guest room wing but got cut of half way through the collection corridor.

Desperately, Bruce tried to slow him down, but the detective seemed to be perfectly capable of running on the walls and ceiling, too. What kind of freak did he get involved with? He had almost made it to the medieval weapons room when Grayson picked him up like he weighed nothing more than an angry sack of flour. Screaming, kicking, biting. Nothing worked. He was too strong. He sprayed something in Bruce's face, and, it was, it was like everything, got fuzzy, and a little warm, hehe, all his muscles felt so soft, and bones, little squishy, hehe hehehe, squishy bones.

Dick let Danny lay in his arms, giggling for a while. Long enough to catch his breath. Was the real Bruce so slippery at this age? Long enough for Alfred to get here.

Dick picked Danny up. As gentle as he could with all that twitching. He didn't wanna use that spray on a child, but he couldn't knock him out either. What if he forgets again?

Back at the batcave Dick had to keep holding Danny because he wouldn't let go of his arm. It's totally not because he just likes the snuggle. Nope. Nightwing is being very professional. He hasn't even mentally designed a new Robin costume.

At long last, Zatanna Zeta-ed in. The JLD had been off world for ages, dealing with some dimension crap.

"Hey, girl," She elegantly stepped out of the glowing portal.

"Hey, girl," He replied. "Want the breif or are you cought up?"

"Bat-Clone, recently stabilized, altzimers? Question mark? Thinks he's Bruce in the late 80s." She gave Dick a look. "You two were made for each other." She teased.

"Ha-ha," He mocked. "He's out of it now, but he won't be able to lie or run."

"And he's on your lap because - You're just such close friends? I figured he would have accused you of murder or something by now."

"Murder?" His voice got higher. "Nooo - he didn't specify." Nightwing sounded like he was drowning on dry land. "I mean, sure, he requested a homicide detective. But that's just because Jim is the only cop he trusts." A chill runs through Dicks whole body. Danny had turned his head so now Dicks chest was covered in drool.

Zatanna reached her hand into her hat and pulled out a notebook and pen. "Let's start, then." She smiled smuggly at Dick, then crouched down just enough to be eye level with Danny. She put a hand on the boys' sholder. "Can you tell me your name?"

Bruce slowly turned his head, looking like he might fall over if he tried to move faster. There was a woman's voice speaking to him. She was blurry, and his eyes didn't wanna open all the way, but he could tell she had long black hair and was either wearing a black bodice with white sleeves or just a bodice. The room they were in was dimly lit, so that wasn't helping. "Auh?"

"Can you tell me your name?" She repeated patiently.

"... Bruce... Wayne... 12... April... 1988?"

Zatanna looked confused at Dick returned a shrug.

"What happened to you?" She addressed Bruce again.

"I - I, saw, a boy in the hallway. He melted," Bruce gestured to the green sludge, no longer glowing all over his shirt and pants. "Alfred was, going to clean it. Like, he knew someone was going to melt there." Bruce was too busy tripping balls to notice the concerned looks around him. "I called the police, but, detective, was on the phone. I tricked him, to jump, out the window."

Zatanna glanced at Nightwing, who looked proud more than anything.

"I was gonna run to the panic room. There's, phone there, but detective chased me." Bruce held tighter onto Dicks arm.

Zatanna looked between the two and closed her book. "Bruce? Who's lap are you sitting on?"

Nightwing braced for impact.

"My dad." He said fondly.

Zatanna took a deep breath. "Is your dad alive?"

"No." Bruce smiled.

A slew of emotions came and went from Zatannas face before landing on the next question. "Are you alive?"

"No." He looked so pleased.

Clone Danny long post

The footprints lead Alfred out of the room and to the right but quickly dried up on the short hair carpet.

Alfred checked every room to the right of Danny's. He had to have left the family wing. 40 minutes of searching later, Alfred was about to go down yet another hallway when he heard faint music and metal clanging. He walked closer to the sound until he could make out some words.

🎶I- can hear the sound of violins🎶

🎶long before- it begins🎶

The gym. Someone is at the gym. He told Dick to relax. This is the opposite of relaxing. He stops for a moment outside the door to gather himself. People listen to empathy more than anger. When Alfred pushed the door open and looked down at the workout area, he didn't see a disobedient clown. No. Instead, he was forcibly dragged back to 1989, staring at a 13 year old Bruce doing chest presses. He always looked the most at ease when he was at the gym. The rest of the time, he would be looking for his parents' killer or discovering seacret organizations. Alfred used to cherish the time Bruce spent at the gym because he knew it was the closest he could get to calm. Shortly, Danny put down his 3 kg weights and addressed Alfred.

"Morning, Alfred. Breakfast already? Thought I had more time." He sounded like Bruce, more than just his voice. Danny had his own way of talking, but this was all Bruce.

"Young Master," best not to object to his perceived reality, whatever that may be. "It's almost seven in the afternoon, not morning." The sun would have spoiled that for him anyway. "And dinner will be ready in two hours."

"Oh, ok. I'll be there at nine then." Danny simply went over to the next station in his routine. Right as he sat down on the floor, something seemed to dawn on him. "Alfred? Did something happen to me?" He asked innocently.

Alfred remained frozen, staring at the young boy. "What would give you that idea?"

"I woke up in a different room than usual, I had to switch down all my weights, and the files in my father's office have been moved. And then you came in looking like you've seen a ghost." Ever the detective.

"Nothing gets past you. I'm afraid you had a rather bad fever and spent a few days in bed. I would like to examine your health, but it can wait. Let's say, eight-thirty? Before dinner?"

"Kitchen at eight-thirty, got it."

Alfred left the room and braced himself on the door. He thinks he's Bruce. He probably thinks it's the 80s or 90s, too. It's a good thing most everyone is out hunting down clues and/or committing extreme acts of violence.

Danny had changed into an all black suit (bowtie and kerchief included) before coming to the kitchen at 8:27. Hmm, he does like to be punctual. His temperature and heart rate were normal, for once he didn't have bags under his eyes, which responded in time to light. But, he was definitely younger than he was when he arrived. Dick wasn't imagining that.

"Can you tell me your name, age, and today's date?"

"Bruce Thomas Wayne, 12, almost 13, today is November, uh," He struggled a bit. "17th? Maybe a bit later, 1988." He avoided eye contact. "Just so we're clear, I wouldn't have known today's date even if I hadn't been sick."

Alfred smiled a little, remembering how much he used to care about getting good scores on everything. "I'll be sure to include that in the report." He retorted sarcastically, earning a small grin back. "Now go wash up, dinners almost ready."

As per routine, Alfred started by bringing out the helthiest dishes. They all knew it was a trick to get them to eat vegetables, but no one was ever willing to wait. Danny was so hungry, even the brussel sprouts were appetizing. Now if Alfred could just stop staring at him and actually put the container on the table.

"Alfred?"

"W, what?"

"Are you OK?"

Danny had combed his hair when he'd asked him to wash up. This was Bruce. This was the boy Alfred raised. The one who had fallen asleep in his arms every night for months because he refused to be alone in the dark. The one who used to "forget" to tell Alfred about the handfuls of peanut butter in his pockets, ruining thousand dollars dress pants on six different occasions. The one who wanted to keep street cats knowing full well he was allergic.

"Do you need a day off? Or maybe a week?"

"What? No. I'm alright master Bruce. Just, uhm, glad to see you have your appetite back. That's all." Keep it together now. He set down a steaming glass dish full of baked carrots, sweet potatoes, bell peppers, onions, brussel sprouts, broccoli, cauliflower, and mushrooms.

Danny took as big a serving as he could fit (vegetables can only go in the top right on his plate), making sure not to let the butter run too much. The next dish was steamed turnip. Crap. Another vegetable. Can't mix them. Can't put it somewhere else. The only option is to finish the baked vegetables fast.

By the time he finished his quarter of a turnip, six more dishes had already shown up. How many people does Alfred think live here?

At 21:11 Dick walked into the dining room. Dressed in a plain shirt and pants. The two boys looked like they were going to entirely different events.

"Hello." Danny invited. "I'm sorry, have we met?"

"This gentleman is detective Richard Grayson." Alfred interjected. "Master Dick, would you care to join us for dinner?"

"Oh, where are my manners? Here, have a seat. There's plenty of food."

The dinner after that was awkward, but nice. It's good to have some company once in a while. Ever since his parents died, it's just been him and Alfred.

He did wake up late in the afternoon, so it shouldn't be such a surprise that he got to stay up and watch his gray ghost VHS tapes way later than his usual bedtime. Only interrupted occasionally by Alfred, making sure he's keeping all that food down. He had to have been really sick. He doesn't even remember throwing up recently.

He must have dosed off at some point because he was awoken abruptly at some horrid hour of the night by an ear pierceing scream. He hurried to its sorce in the family wing where he saw what looked like another Bruce, except this one had white hair and wore a black onesie. He appeared to be melting into a glowing green sludge. Bruce knelt down and grabbed the boy, who stopped screaming. Opting to bury his face in Bruce's chest instead.

Alfred came just as the gruesome scene was over. 4:50 am, same place, same time, every night. Alfred had hoped something had improved when the screaming stopped early. But rather than the typical gorey mess, there was Danny, inconsolable and covered in slime.

"Wh, wh, ah?" Who was that? What was that?? Why was that???

"Master da- Bruce." At lightning speed, Alfred was on his knees and holding Danny. "Come on, you don't have to be here." He tried to lift him up, but Danny resisted.

"...Why do you have the carpet cleaner?" He accused. "Did you know this would happen?"

[dorabellingham]

Vows in a rush

warning: none

characters: jude x fem!reader

summary: when after years of marriage you decide to renew your vows and he surprises you

may contain spelling and translation errors!

The afternoon was golden, tinged by the sunset that painted the sky with soft shades of pink, orange and blue. The place chosen by Jude for the renewal of the vows was a small garden hidden between hills, surrounded by ancient trees and wildflowers. It was a dream setting, intimate, just for you.

You had imagined that it would be a special moment, but nothing prepared you for what you saw when you approached the altar.

Jude was there, waiting for you, wearing an elegant dark suit that made him look even more handsome. But it wasn't just him. Next to him were Jayden and Oliver, your two boys, dressed in small suits identical to their father's. Jay, with his curls perfectly arranged, held a small pillow of wedding rings, while Oli, on his father's lap, looked around with curious eyes.

Your heart stopped for a moment.

The vision of them there, the three men of your life, waiting for you at the altar, was enough to make tears fill your eyes before even taking the first step.

-Oh, Jude...

You whispered to yourself, feeling your legs almost fail.

You held the bouquet harder and tried to take a deep breath, but the tears were already rolling freely down your face. You walked slowly through the improvised corridor, feeling his heart beating faster with each step.

When you finally reached the altar, Jude smiled at you, his eyes shining with emotion.

-You look so beautiful, darling.

He murmured, holding your hand.

You looked at him, then at the smiling boys, and sobbed softly.

-You took me completely by surprise, babe.

Jude laughed, wiping a tear from your face with his thumb.

-I thought it would be special if we did this together. You're not just my wife, Y/n. You are the mother of our children, the woman I want to live with every day of my life. I wish they were here to see this, to feel how strong and full of love this family is.

You bit your lip, trying to hold back your tears, but it was impossible.

The ceremony began in a simple way, only the two exchanging sincere vows, with the little boys as witnesses of the love that united them.

Jude held your hands gently and took a deep breath before starting.

-Babe, I chose you years ago, and I would choose you as many times as necessary. Since the day we said "yes" to each other, we went through incredible moments, through challenges, joys that I never imagined I could feel. You are my partner, my best friend, my home. With you, life is always worth it. Today, in front of our children, I want to promise once again that I will love you, protect you and make you happy for the rest of my life.

You sniffed, laughing in the midst of tears.

—Jude...

You tried to speak, but the voice failed from so much emotion.

He smiled, waiting patiently while you took a deep breath and tried to compose yourself.

-I've told you before, and I'll say it again... I would marry you a thousand times, Jude Bellingham. Not because I need to, but because you are the love of my life. From the moment we started this journey, I knew that it was with you that I wanted to grow old. You give me strength, make me laugh on the worst days, make me feel the most loved woman in the world. And, above all, you gave me the greatest gifts of my life: our children. So, today, before them, I promise to continue by your side, to continue loving you, to continue being yours, forever.

Tears ran freely down your face, and the man in your front couldn't hold back the emotion either.

Jay looked at the two, clearly confused with the crying, and pulled the bar of his father's suit.

-Daddy, mommy is crying.

Jude laughed and took his eldest son on his lap, while you held Oliver.

-It's because she's happy, Jay.

He explained, kissing his son's forehead.

Jayden looked at you with the most expressive brown eyes he had ever seen in your life and, in the purest innocence, opened his arms to you.

-I love you so much, mommy!

And that broke you completely.

You hugged the two boys and Jude at the same time, letting all the emotions overflow.

At that moment, in that small altar surrounded by flowers and love, you knew, more than ever, that there was no better place in the world to be.

[illubean]

Ocean Eyes

"No fair, you really know how to make me cry when you give me those ocean eyes!"

Characters: Satoru Gojo Type: Oneshot, Gn!Reader, Highschool!AU (?)

this fic idea came to me in a dream but it lwky didn't turn out how i wanted it but uhhh oh well

Warnings: slight angst? angst? idk how sad it is tbh, Gojo is a dickhead in this one

He knew. Of course, he knew. Satoru, with his piercing blue eyes that always seemed to see straight through you, knew exactly how you felt. But he never said anything, never acknowledged it. Instead, he let it linger between you, like a secret dance no one else could see.

Yet, it seemed you couldn't do much about your hopeless pining. And Satoru never seemed to help either.

At lunch he’d sit across from you, knees brushing briefly under the table. He’d pretend it was an accident, but you both knew it wasn’t. Satoru had a way of leaning in just enough that you could smell his cologne, feel the heat of his body so close to yours without ever truly touching.

Sometimes, he’d look at you with that playful smirk and throw compliments your way. He'd say thing like "You're so cute when you rant like that" then laugh, his blue eyes twinkling as if he were joking. But you weren’t sure anymore if he was teasing or if he knew exactly how it made you feel—your heart in your throat and cheeks burning.

Whenever he'd catch you staring, he'd hold your gaze as long as you allow. Those glimmering orbs holding the beauty of the sea at sunrise, but with a flickering flame hidden behind them. It was something you couldn't decide if it was resemblant of passion or something more unnerving, like a silent warning of chaos that may ensue.

It made you crazy. The way he’d show up randomly in the hallways, leaning against the lockers, and giving you that look—the one that said he knew exactly what was going through your mind. Sometimes he’d even get close enough to whisper in your ear, “You know, I think you like me. A little too much.”

You hated how exposed you were. As if you were some pawn in whatever sick game he was playing. But you couldn’t stay away from him. There was something magnetic about the way he looked at you, something that kept you coming back for more, even when it hurt. Satoru would talk to you just enough to make you think there was something between you, and then pull away just enough to keep you guessing.

Fed up with being toyed with like this, you pulled Satoru aside in the hallway to confront him.

"What the hell is your problem!? You're constantly flirting with me just to disappear for days then you reinvite yourself back into my life like nothing happened!"

He shrugged, his smile widening into that familiar, mischievous grin. “Maybe I just like keeping you on your toes. You never know what to expect from me, do you?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, trying your best to hold back your emotions. "No. No, I really don't."

“I like that about you,” he said, leaning a little closer, his breath warm against your ear. “It make things... interesting.”

He stared down at you with those eyes you constantly found yourself lost in, but now you were sure of what they hid.

He didn't care about you. He never did. He just enjoyed the attention.

You felt your throat tighten and your nose turn warm, eyes pricking with tears you refused to let spill over.

"So this is all just fun in games to you? Even when you know how crazy I am about you!?"

"I guess so," he shrugs. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he turns to make his way down the hall.

His nonchalance was the final blow to the dam you built inside yourself, sadness spilling over in the form of tears that dripped down your cheeks. Gojo left you there in the middle of the hallway, heart heavy in your chest and left in a million shattered pieces.

And even after he had just destroyed you, you were still drowning in Satoru Gojo.

The only thing on your mind was those ocean eyes.

[up-beattt]

"In 1985 I was touring with Bruce Springsteen, who was playing a series of dates in the UK. The shows were mammoth, both physically and in length, running three hours plus. By the time we hit Wembley Stadium in London, I'd hit a creative wall and was trying to come up with an idea that would bring a different look to what I'd been shooting - something, anything, out of the norm. [...]

"I knew from previous shows that Bruce would always go out to the pod at stage right at the exact same point in every show during (if memory serves) "Hungry Heart,” which was the third or fourth song after the intermission. During the break I clamped a Nikon onto the rear railing of the pod stage, with a full frame fisheye lens looking out towards the crowd, and a 10 foot long remote cable hanging underneath the small stage so I could fire the camera from directly underneath Bruce - who wouldn't be able to see me. Of course, I wouldn't be able to see him either, so I needed to talk to him first to prep him on the shot. I pre-focused the camera, set the exposure and made a beeline for Bruce's dressing room. "I know you've got a few things on your mind," I said, "but I've mounted a remote camera on the rear railing of the pod on stage right. You'll barely notice it, but if there is any way that when you're out there you could turn around and play to the back of the house, I think I can get a great shot of you with all of Wembley Stadium in the background - but I really wanna see your face in the shot, so that's why I'll really need you to have your back to the audience." Bruce let me run through my whole speech without saying anything or showing one bit of interest. Then just before I turned to leave he suddenly said, "Yeah, I think it's ok.” I was stunned. I was thrilled that he'd said yes but I thought there is no way in hell Bruce is gonna remember. Like I said, the guy had a lot more important things to think about than my little set-up. 

"When the time came I stood underneath the stage with my remote trigger dangling in my hand. I couldn't really see what was happening above me but through the slats in the wooden runway I suddenly saw a pair of black boots running to the spot directly on top of me. I took a deep breath, counted to 10 and kept the button pressed on the remote cable, firing off 36 straight frames. This was gonna be a hit-or-miss situation, no two ways about it. After Bruce finished the show I ran over to the Nikon and made sure that the camera had even fired - and it had. I pocketed the roll of film until I got it to the lab the next day. 

"I got everything wanted, and more. Bruce had followed my directions perfectly, and for most of the roll he had faced the back of the house, which was empty because they hadn't sold those seats. He had essentially mugged for my camera with his back to the audience, dancing the exact same way he always did during that song. The crowd must have thought he was crazy but he really came through for me. We ended up with a truly memorable shot that could never have been made without his willingness to just go for it and trust my instincts."

- Neal Preston, Exhilarated and Exhausted

[lafleurose]

UNSPOKEN- Ellie x Reader (part 2)

Part 1

Warnings: some cussing, lots of angst

♡ I apologize for the delay on part 2! I recently moved, so that took up so much of my time. I also couldn't figure out where I wanted the story to go lmao but I'm done! Here ya goooo!

Summary: someone's flirting pushes Ellie over the edge. Leading to a tense confrontation where she's forced to admit why she's been acting out.

The smell of roasted pork belly lingered in the main dining hall, mingling with the sound of chatter and clinking dishes. The room was alive with energy, people gathering around long wooden tables, their voices bouncing off the high ceilings. Jesse leaned back in his chair, admiring his plate like he’d just won the lottery.

“Told you I’d get my pork belly,” he said, spearing another piece with his fork and shoving it into his mouth.

“You practically tackled Carl for it,” Dina said, settling into the chair across from him. “I thought he was going to stab you with a fork.”

Jesse shrugged, completely unbothered. “He respected the hustle. Besides, I left him a piece.”

“A crumb,” Dina corrected, snatching a roll off his plate and earning a glare. “Don’t be greedy.”

You smirked but stayed quiet, trying to focus on your own plate. Even so, your eyes kept drifting to Ellie, who sat across from you, leaning on her elbow and absently poking at her food. She hadn’t looked at you once since sitting down, which somehow felt worse than the usual glares. The silence stretched between you like a taut string, one that could snap at any moment.

Dina noticed your distraction and leaned in, her tone casual but pointed. “I love you both, but when are you two going to start talking?”

Ellie stiffened, her fork pausing mid-poke. She glanced at Dina, then at you with a look that could have frozen a fire. “We talk,” she muttered, her voice clipped. “Just not about anything that matters, apparently.”

You rolled your eyes, stabbing your spoon into your stew. “Maybe when she stops glaring,” you muttered under your breath before shoving a spoonful into your mouth.

Ellie’s jaw tightened, and Dina let out a heavy sigh, leaning back in her chair. “Maybe the bonfire will help. Might actually stop you two from trying to kill each other.”

“Doubt it,” Jesse chimed in through a mouthful of pork belly. “At this point, I’m taking bets. You two either break something or make out by the end of the night.”

Ellie choked on her food, coughing as she glared at Jesse. “Jesus, Jesse. Can you not?”

You felt your face flush. “God, you’re an idiot.”

“I’m a visionary,” Jesse said with a grin, gesturing dramatically with his fork. “The tension is unbearable.”

Ellie shot him a warning look. “Keep talking, and you’ll see tension when I shove that fork down your throat.”

Dina rolled her eyes. “Enough, children. Some of us are trying to eat in peace.”

Ellie turned her attention back to her plate, clearly done with the conversation, but the tension lingered in the air like smoke. You tried to focus on your food, but your eyes betrayed you, constantly flicking to her. Every move she made seemed deliberate, like she was holding something back. It was driving you insane.

“So, what’s the plan for the bonfire?” you asked, desperate to steer the conversation somewhere else.

Dina perked up, clearly glad for the shift in tone. “We’re heading down to the creek after dark. Maria found out, but she said we could do it if we behaved. So let’s try not to burn the whole forest down.” She nudged you, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she nodded toward Jesse. “If you’re lucky, maybe someone will get to show off their terrible dancing.”

“My dancing’s a gift,” Jesse said, patting his chest with mock pride. “I can’t help that people are intimidated by it.”

“You flail like you’re being attacked by bees,” Dina shot back, her grin wide.

“It’s a stylistic choice,” Jesse retorted, completely unbothered.

Despite yourself, you laughed, the tension easing for a moment. But the moment of calm didn’t last. Ellie stood abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the floor.

“I’m gonna grab something to drink,” she muttered, not waiting for a response before heading toward the drink station in the corner of the hall.

Dina glanced between you and Ellie, her brow furrowed. “What happened? I thought you two were-”

You shook your head, the knot in your chest tightening. “Me too. She told me she liked me and the next day she- it's like she hated me. I don't know what I did. Whenever I ask, she just flips and avoids the question."

Dina gives you a sympathetic smile, reaching across the table to squeeze your hand. "I really think this bonfire will help."

You sigh, dropping your spoon in your bowl. "I don't know. I don't have much hope."

Dina frowned but didn’t push. As you watched Ellie’s retreating form, you couldn’t help but wonder if tonight would be the night something finally broke.

♡♡♡

The fire crackled brightly, casting warm light over the group as laughter and conversation filled the night air. Jesse was in the middle of another over-the-top patrol story, using wild gestures and exaggerated voices to imitate the people involved. Dina groaned, covering her face with her hands.

“Please, spare us,” she said, though her laughter betrayed her.

“What? It’s a true story!” Jesse insisted, grinning. “You can’t make this stuff up!”

“You absolutely can,” you said, smirking as you leaned back on the log. Despite the lighthearted atmosphere, you couldn’t ignore the weight in your chest. Your eyes drifted to Ellie again, just like before, but she didn’t meet your gaze. Instead, she kept her focus on her guitar, her fingers plucking at the strings absently like she wasn’t part of the group at all.

She’d been distant all night. Just like she’d been distant for weeks. Even now, sitting a few feet away, she felt unreachable.

It hurt.

You didn’t know what you had done wrong—if you had done anything at all. The warm familiarity that once sat between you had turned cold, and you weren’t sure how to get it back.

“Alright, Y/N,” Jesse said, pointing at you with a grin. “Your turn. Most embarrassing moment—go.”

You groaned, but the attention from the group gave you no choice. “Fine. You know why I’m not allowed to solo patrol anymore?”

Ellie’s fingers faltered over the guitar strings, and her lips twitched into the smallest of smiles. She didn’t look up, but the soft laugh she let out gave you a flicker of hope.

Dina raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Care to share, Ellie?"

Ellie looked up then, but not at you. “No, I—I'm good.”

The group fell silent. Ellie glanced your way for the briefest moment before turning back to her guitar.

You knew why she laughed. She was there. It was a memory that had brought the two of you closer. You remembered clinging onto Ellie as your feet touched the ground. The hesitant way her arms wrapped around your waist, when you kissed her in thanks. The first time you'd kissed a girl and known—really known—that you’d fallen deep.

But whatever warmth she’d felt in that memory was gone now. She shut herself off quickly.

A kick to your foot snapped you out of your thoughts. You jumped and looked around at the group. “Sorry. I lost my train of thought.”

Dina smirked at you, her expression knowing. You frowned at her and cleared your throat.

“Water tower,” you began. “Amazing view, right? So I thought, hey, let me climb it and check it out. Turns out I’m terrible with heights. Got stuck up there for hours.”

“No way,” Dina said, her laughter already bubbling up. “How long were you stuck?”

“Four hours,” you admitted, grinning sheepishly. “Ellie eventually found me with Shimmer, but it took her an hour just to convince me to climb down.”

The group erupted into laughter—except for Ellie. She barely reacted, just kept her focus on the guitar, her smile long gone.

That stung.

Before you could dwell on it, Jane's voice echoed in the night.

“Heights, huh?” she said, her voice smooth, teasing. “Didn’t peg you for someone afraid of anything.”

You looked up at her, caught off guard.

Jane—the prettiest girl in Jackson. You know the saying "tall, dark, and handsome"? That was her. Everyone either wanted to be her or wanted her. Everyone, of course, except for you.

She gave you a slow, lazy smile, taking a seat on the log next to you, her posture completely relaxed. She brushed her long braid over her shoulder, her dark eyes flickering with amusement as she watched you. “So, since you can’t solo patrol, when do we get to go together?”

Her long fingers traced over your arm in a way that was almost absentminded. Or maybe it was intentional. With Jane, it was hard to tell.

You weren’t expecting this. Jane never showed interest in anyone—until now. And maybe that was what threw you off.

You didn’t know how to react.

She was pretty. She was easy to talk to. She wasn’t cold or distant. But she also wasn’t—

You glanced at Ellie.

Her jaw was set. Her hands gripped the guitar tighter, her knuckles pale in the firelight.

Jane, either oblivious or fully enjoying herself, leaned in just a little more. “We’d make a great team. I mean, someone’s gotta keep you from getting stuck in trees.”

Jesse whistled. “Damn, Jane. You’re really laying it on thick.”

Jane smirked, her gaze still locked on you. “What can I say? I know what I like.”

Ellie’s strumming stopped completely. The fire crackled, but the tension around you burned hotter.

You felt Ellie’s gaze, sharp as a blade against the side of your face, but you didn’t look at her.

“Come on,” Jane continued, her voice dropping to something more private. “You and I both know patrol’s boring when the company isn’t good. And I think we’d have fun.”

You swallowed. “I—”

Jane didn’t let you finish. “What do you say, Y/N?” she mused, tilting her head. “Think you can handle me?”

Ellie abruptly stood up, her voice void of emotion. “Need more firewood.”

She didn’t wait for a response before walking off toward the treeline.

Jane arched a brow as she watched Ellie go, then turned back to you with a slow, knowing smirk. “Huh.”

You swallowed, suddenly feeling exposed. “What?”

Jane’s smile widened. “Nothing. Just… interesting.”

It didn’t feel like nothing.

Some time had passed, and Ellie was nowhere to be found. Jane kept talking, but her voice faded into the background as your focus shifted elsewhere.

You weren’t listening. Not really.

Your mind was on Ellie—on the way she had stormed off, her shoulders tense, her death grip on her guitar like she was barely holding herself together. She hadn’t come back. Hadn’t even glanced your way since she left.

You tried to ignore the uneasy feeling gnawing at your chest, but it wouldn’t go away.

“I’ll see you later,” you muttered, cutting Jane off as you stood.

She blinked in surprise. “Oh?”

You hesitated, but you didn’t have time to play whatever game she had started. “Yeah. I just—need to check on something.”

Jane didn’t press. She only smirked, like she already knew.

You didn’t wait for a response before you turned, heading toward the trees where you last saw Ellie disappear. The bonfire’s warmth faded behind you as the quiet night wrapped around you instead.

Then, you heard it.

A guitar.

The melody was soft, familiar—achingly familiar. It was the same song she played for you the night of the water tower incident. Where she kissed you back.

The night everything changed.

You followed the sound until you found her sitting beneath a tree, guitar in her lap, fingers plucking the strings in slow, absentminded strokes.

For a second, you just stood there, watching her, feeling something tighten in your chest. The moonlight carved shadows across her face, her expression unreadable.

This was your chance.

Here, where she couldn’t run.

“You okay?” you asked cautiously.

Ellie stilled. Her fingers froze mid-chord before she exhaled sharply, her shoulders rising and falling with the breath.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she muttered.

You frowned. “You stormed off and never came back.”

Ellie turned then, finally meeting your gaze—but her eyes were cold, detached, nothing like they used to be.

“You wanted me to come back for what?” she said flatly. “So I could watch you flirt with Jane in front of me?”

“What?” You recoiled, caught off guard. “Ellie, I wasn’t flirting—”

Ellie scoffed. “Right.”

You took a step closer, frustration creeping into your voice. “Look, I’m sorry she came onto me, but I wasn’t flirting. I didn’t even—”

Her voice cracked as she cut you off.

“You were a mistake.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut.

You froze.

A moment passed.

Then another.

And suddenly, you were tired. Tired of the back and forth, of guessing, of the constant shift between warmth and cold, between having her and losing her in the span of a breath.

Ellie had been awful to you for weeks, shutting you out without an explanation. And now she was saying this?

Your throat tightened and your eyes welled with tears, but you forced yourself to swallow them down.

“I’m not going to ask you again, Ellie,” you said, quieter now, your voice strained but firm. “What happened?”

Ellie let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “You really don’t know?”

“No,” you said, desperate to understand. “I don’t.”

She clenched her jaw. Her hands curled into fists on her lap.

“I saw you two,” she muttered.

You frowned. “Me and Jane?”

Ellie’s eyes flashed, like even hearing it made her angrier.

“The way you looked at her,” she spat. “That day she was helping you fix your rifle. You ditched me to go see her.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

That?

That’s what this was about?

You shook your head, trying to piece it together. “Ellie, I—I didn’t ditch you. I didn’t even know—”

“Bullshit,” she snapped, standing up abruptly, her movements sharp, restless. “I saw it. I fucking saw it, Y/N.”

You flinched at the venom in her tone. “Saw what, exactly?”

Ellie exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair like she was barely holding herself together. “The way you smiled at her. The way she smiled back. You looked so—so comfortable with her. Like it was easy.”

Your heart twisted.

“You think I wanted Jane?” you asked, voice soft.

Ellie’s jaw clenched. “Didn’t you?”

“No,” you said immediately, the weight of her accusation hitting you all at once. “Ellie, I didn’t.”

Ellie looked away, shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does,” you insisted. “Because you’ve been treating me like shit over something that isn’t even real.”

Ellie’s breath hitched.

She was unraveling, piece by piece.

She inhaled sharply through her nose. Her lips parted like she wanted to argue, but she hesitated.

And then—

Her face changed.

It was just for a second. A flicker.

Her eyes moved between yours, searching, like she was looking for something—some kind of proof that she was wrong. But beneath it, you saw everything.

Anger. Frustration.

Sadness.

Guilt.

It all crashed together in one fleeting expression before her face hardened again.

But it was too late. You had seen it.

Ellie let out a shaky breath, looking away.

“I was scared,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

You stared at her, heart pounding. “Scared of what?”

Ellie swallowed hard, her eyes glassy now.

“Scared of screwing this up,” she whispered. “Scared of losing you.”

You felt the anger in your chest waver, flickering between frustration and something else—something deeper, something raw. You had spent so long trying to figure out what you did wrong. Trying to understand why she had suddenly become so distant.

And all this time... she was scared?

Your voice was quiet, careful. "Then why did you push me away?"

Ellie’s lip trembled. Her fingers twitched at her side, as if she was holding back.

Her green eyes fixed onto yours, eyes glossy and tired. "I thought it would hurt less."

Your heart ached at her words, your chest tightening as you held back your tears.

You stared at her, at the way her shoulders hunched, at the way she dropped her gaze. You hadn't seen her like this in a long time.

Vulnerable.

Exposed.

"I know it's fucking stupid. I thought shutting you out, and- hurting you would help me get over you. That eventually I'd stop feeling all of this."

You swallowed hard, "And did you?"

Ellie blinks, confused.

"Get over me," you clarified.

She let out a slow shaky breath, "No. I never did."

Her words hung between you. The weight of everything-- weeks of tension, confusion, and aching silence-- pressed against you chest. You weren't sure what to say. You finally had you answer, but you hadn't expected this.

Ellie looked exhausted, she had been carrying this for far too long, her admittance draining every last bit of fight from her.

Jane-- all of this because of her.

You had seen her around Jackson, seen how she interacted with others. She was outgoing, friendly-- maybe even a little too friendly-- but you figured that was just who she was. When she offered to help you with your rifle, you hadn't thought twice about it.

Because to you, it had meant nothing. But, it meant everything to Ellie.

"Ellie, I never wanted Jane."

"I know." She lets out a self-deprecating laugh. "I know. But I still thought... what if you did? What if one day you realized you could have something - someone, easier?"

That caught you off guard, "Easier?"

She rubs her face before resting her hand on her neck. She rubs it slowly. Her voice is hoarse, "Yes. Someone who isn't a fucking mess. Someone who doesn't run away when they're hurt."

You had stepped forward without realizing, "If I wanted something easier, don't you think I would have walked away by now?"

Ellie drops her hand, eyes fluttering to the ground, "I don't know."

You were close enough to Ellie now, able to trace your fingertips on her hand. "Well I do. And, I want you. Even when you make it difficult or when you shut me out. But I need you to meet me halfway."

Ellie looked at you then-- really looked at you.

For the first time in weeks you could see her defenses faltering. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. "I don't know how."

Your heart ached. She had spent so long running and convincing herself that real love was something meant for other people. Not her.

You took a slow, measured breath as your hand found hers. You could hear Ellie's breath hitch at the contact.

"Ellie.'

Her lips parted as she looked at you.

"Let me show you."

Silence stretched between you, thick and fragile, waiting for someone to break.

Then-- slowly and hesitantly-- Ellie squeezed your hand. "Okay."

You didn't press her for more. Not yet at least.

Because for the first time in weeks, there was something between you that hadn't been there before.

Hope.

And for now, that was enough.

[petals2fish]

Six Shots of Tequila

Summary: "She's your EMT and I keep telling her that she's pretty when she's concerned because I nearly DIED after jumping off a roof AU" and a dash of "I knocked her up and now we raise a kid together, but I really do love her." Also known as, the writer has certain tropes she will die for. (READ ON A03)

"Sirius hit me with a nunchuck."

He was such a fucking liar but she loved him either way.

"You jumped out the window onto the trampoline, Sirius told me."

He was blinking interestedly at her through his glasses; probably waiting for her to say something other than the few profanities that she'd said while loading him into the truck. The thick black frames he wore were lopsided and partially covered in some of the blood that had dripped from the wound on his forehead. The EMS they were on bound for the Hospital bounced down the small English road. The truck sirens wailed overhead to warn passing vehicles to move to the side of the road. Up front, Lily's partner Frank was updating the hospital on their arrival time.

"Are you mad?"

Lily was taking her patients blood pressure (it was elevated, go figure) and the man was looking at her like she was either his worst nightmare or best daydream. It was hard to tell what he was feeling since she was feeling so many emotions that night it was hard for her to process his too.

"Have you been drinking tonight?" Lily asked the man, James Potter, as she removed the cuff from his arm after deeming him alive (enough).

Lily knew the answer of course; she'd seen the shot glasses on the table in the living room. She could smell the drink on his breath. She hadn't seen him this plastered in years, not since the night they'd met. James snickered when she stuck his arm for fluids and she longed for the moment when he was back to his righteous self and she could take the mickey out on him.

"Might've had a few shots of tequila." He slurred, "Sirius brought us the good stuff from Nevada."

"How many constitutes a few?"

"Six."

"Holy hell James." Lily looked back up at his face, frowning, "Six shots of tequila?"

"I beat him." James said proudly with a beaming smile, "I beat Sirius."

"I dunno if you should brag." Lily replied steadily as she started reaching for sterile gauze to clean up his forehead, "you definitely have a concussion."

"Lily." He said earnestly as she counted to ten and placed the gauze in cleaning solution before wiping up the blood from his face, "They told me I'd gone soft being a dad." he looked mortified, "Soft."

"You're an idiot." Lily muttered, albeit worriedly as she assessed the growing bloody lump on his forehead, "You know Sirius was just goading you like he always does."

"Remus said so too." James complained.

"Remus does not think you've gone soft." Lily surmised, "I spoke to him on the phone last week James and he only complimented the birthday party you threw for Harry."

"He made fun of me because I fold the laundry."

"He did not once mention your exceptional laundry folding skills."

"I have gone soft." James moaned, trying to scratch his forehead but Lily swatted his hand away, "I used to be so cool and go out all the time."

"So sorry your condom broke and left you with more responsibility than a quick shag." Lily said flatly, watching the fluid channel into his veins.

James giggled, "You're so pretty when you're mad."

"Don't try to sweet talk me Potter," Lily warned as she tended to his IV, "You could've died."

"I was fine." James illuminated, "I've gotten way worse bumps in football."

If James had anything else left to say he couldn't, because he pressed one finger to the bump on his head in order to prove his strength to her, and he passed out.

"Fuck," Lily cursed, looking up at the clock to her left, they had two minutes to get to the hospital.

Lily grabbed the side window that was closed to the drivers seat and yanked it open. Frank was listening to his favorite folk music. Lily rolled her eyes and shouted over the music.

"He's finally passed out."

"We're almost there. I phoned ahead and asked for Marlene."

Lily thought that her partner had never sounded like a saint before now. Marlene was Lily's best mate and the best doctor at the hospital. If she wanted anyone checking out James' head it was Dr. Marlene McKinnon. Lily wondered if she should've asked Marlene to check out James' head the moment she met James three years ago, instead of after he'd suffered a concussion.

Inside of Lily's scrubs, her phone was buzzing every minute, probably texts from the person who got James into such a state. Lily checked James' pulse once more before grabbing her phone and seeing her screen light up with texts from Sirius Black.

Sirius Black: Harry's still fast asleep I checked

Sirius Black: if James tells you that I dared him to jump out the window onto the trampoline he's a fucking liar I swear

Sirius Black: I did tell him however, that he's turned into lightweight and a prissy baby

Sirius Black: and I got you that dress you were admiring at that boutique on Madison 

Lily could've killed Sirius Black but Harry wouldn't thank her if she ended up in jail and left James to raise him without her. That would be a fucking disaster. Lily sighed for the umpteenth time that night and pressed her fingers to her temples before writing Sirius back, her fingers pressing into the phone violently.

Lily Evans: He's got a concussion but he'll be fine. I'll call you once I'm done my shift. You're on baby-sitting duty until James and I get back. Don't fuck up. 

When Lily had gotten the call at work she'd actually been having a good night shift. Alex Margret had brought in her famous chocolate chip cookies, the nurses were celebrating Dr. Snape being fired for sexual harassment with party favors, and one of the TVs was actually programmed to a good channel. The call for an EMS to number 14 Godric Hall Road went over the speaker and Frank jumped into action as Lily sat, petrified with half a cookie in her mouth. She'd immediately called the house, worried that her two-year-old son Harry was injured by way of a fowl ball or something of equal value. No one answered and she jumped up from her chair, feeling like she was in a very bad dream, one that she wanted to wake up from immediately.

The ride to her small cottage at the end of town was the longest drive of her life and she cursed every car that made the drive longer because they didn't pull over for the sirens. The EMS driver, Longbottom, told her he was going to tranquilize her if she didn't stop wringing her hands. Lily was thankful he drove, as she could barely see through the haze of worry clouding her eyes.

When they'd pulled up to the small flat everything appeared normal. The windows were open to the spring breeze and Lily couldn't hear baby cries from the inside when she stepped out of the van. There were no cops running around with hazard tape. There were no bullet holes in her windows. The old cat was lazing in a flowerpot by the front door. Lily peeked next door and noted that even old Bathilda's house appeared standard with the flower print curtains drawn tight.

It was Sirius coming out the front door when she walked up with her partner that caught her off guard. First of all because Harry's godfather had been in the United States modeling for Calvin Kline last she'd heard from James, second of all because the look on Sirius' face could only be described as guilty. Knowing Sirius was the most reckless of all of James' mates, Lily immediately became defensive of everything happening.

"Lily listen I just want to say—"

Sirius tried talking but Lily pushed past the underwear model into her house irately.

"If Harry even has a scratch on his head I'm going to— James?!"

Lily's attempt to threaten Sirius Black within an inch of his life fell as fast as her heart fell to her stomach. The first thing Lily saw was her son's father lying on their sofa with scarlet blood transfiguring his facial features. His messy black hair was swept to one side of his pallid face. His white shirt was stained red near the left shoulder and discovered on the stomach. The entire room had a pungent stench and Lily saw vomit on her floor. For a minute she didn't see James' chest rising and falling and Lily felt like she was going to vomit.

Lily's short breaths were shallow as she raced forwards faster than she'd moved in her entire life—and it still didn't seem fast enough. Her hands fell against his chest and she was thankful to feel he was warm and had a heartbeat.

"James, what happened?"

Lily didn't care if she sounded concerned, because she had been. This was Harry's father and her best friend and no matter the issues between them, she didn't know what she would have done if her hands found but a corpse. The table beside James was covered in used shot glasses. The TV was loud and playing a sports channel. He opened one hazel eye when he felt her hands press against his chest.

"He kind of broke the trampoline." Sirius said when James didn't answer at first, "when he jumped out the window."

"What the fuck?!" 

"Lily, you're home." His words slurred and his eyes were bloodshot.

"Yeah and you're piss drunk." Lily said, pulling her hands away from him and turning her head to glare at Sirius, "what the fuck, Sirius! Around the baby?!"

"You're so pretty Lily." James' fingers reached up to tickle her cheek.

Lily's heart had halted to a stop at those words and his sensitive touch. It seemed drunk and broken James was more than willing to share his feelings with Lily than sober and mature James.

"Where's Harry?" she asked about their son, the one thing that had kept James in her life for so long.

"He's upstairs," Sirius said from behind, "sleeping."

"He'd better still be sleeping," Lily hissed venomously to Sirius as Frank entered the house with a first aid kit, "or you'll be needing the Emergency Room next."

"Missed you too, Evans."

Lily could've punched Sirius when she was at home and while pulling up to the hospital fifteen minutes later, she still wanted to punch him.

It startled Lily how much she cared for James. It was strange but the man who'd knocked her up three years ago ended up being the best thing to happen to her life. Lily would never admit that to James' face, especially not with their current predicament. The worry that struck Lily's heart when she'd seen James lying motionless on the couch was something she never wanted to experience again.

Lily and Frank Longbottom unloaded James in the portable stretcher and brought him through the doors into the relatively quiet Emergency Room. Most of the beds were empty and Marlene was waiting with her arms crossed, blue eyes sparkling with hilarity at Lily's exasperated look.

"What happened?" Marley asked Lily as they wheeled James into the closest room for surveillance.

Lily locked the bed in place as she answered while Frank drew curtains around James' bed, "something along the lines of jumping out a window onto a trampoline, which Sirius says is not his fault."

Marlene laughed, "Bullshit, Sirius totally dared him."

Marlene was checking James' vitals and Lily watched on with impatient eyes. Frank waved before disappearing through the curtain to give the girls privacy to talk about the man in the bed. Everyone at the hospital knew Lily's history with James since the hospital was where they'd first met. James had come wandering in with a broken nose from football and got lost looking for the loo—thereby stumbling upon medical intern Lily Evans. Lily had let herself be wooed by charismatic James in less than fifteen minutes. By the time James checked out he had Lily's number and Lily had the address to his flat downtown.

Sirius had apparently dared James back then too; a dare to shag the pretty medical intern who showed James where the loo was after teasing James about a broken nose. James told Lily so when she'd arrived at his flat that night, flabbergasted that she'd actually shown up. Lily told him honestly that she was looking for a fun one-night stand to get her mind of the stress of work. The result of Lily's spontaneous promiscuity with James nine months later was their son, Harry.

"Who's with Harry?"

"The godfather in question."

"James certainly had good taste in friends."

"Sirius means well most of the time." Lily sighed; thinking of how good Sirius was with Harry.

"You're only defending him because he's James' best mate." Marlene sniffed.

Lily got a washcloth from the sink and wet it a bit in the sink before going to James' wide to wipe down his forehead. Sleeping, he always looked so peaceful. Lily smiled sympathetically as she examined the way his jaw clenched in his sleep, like it did when he was thinking about something very hard. Marlene saw the way Lily was cleaning up James' forehead and snorted logically.

"What?" Lily asked.

"When was the last time the two of you had sex?" Marlene commented.

"Yeah, because that worked out so well the first time we did it." Lily said with a smirk in Marlene's direction, "we're just friends."

"You have a baby together," Marlene said with a roll of her eyes, "and share a flat."

"That's for Harry." Lily said softly, repeating to Marlene what she'd been telling herself for the past three years.

Marlene pulled her stethoscope off her neck and placed it on the closest counter as she said, "You know, or it could be because he has feelings for you, you oblivious dork."

Lily frowned, "we had a one night stand." Lily said, "He's a bloody footballer. He doesn't want to be tied down."

"If he didn't want to be tied down Lily, he would've ran the moment you told him you were pregnant."

"He's not like that." Lily said, brushing James' hair from his eyes and removing his glasses, "He's a good man and wants to raise his son…he just also wants to have the freedom to continue partying with his model best friend."

Marlene started a new IV for James, eager to get some fluids in to wash out the alcohol before they gave him pain meds for the concussion. Lily stared at James' face all the while, wondering how she had come to care for him so much in the last three years.

"Sometimes I wonder," Lily confessed, "If we would've seen each other again if I hadn't gotten pregnant."

"You weren't the only playing the flirt game," Marlene said, "It takes two to tango, and James was definitely into you."

"Yeah," Lily snorted, "that was before the condom broke and we ended up parents in the middle of his budding career and my sign on to the medical field."

Marlene placed a hand on Lily's shoulder and Lily looked at her friend, "it was a rough start for you and Potter, we all know that, but the two of you are in a good place now, right? Maybe it's time to start trying out being something other than friends with a baby."

"I guess." Lily muttered, grabbing James' hand and clasping it in her own.

Lily glanced down at James' bed, remembering that time, three years ago. She'd fallen for his stupid half smiles and adorable charm so hard. He'd literally knocked her off her feet when he'd ran into her while searching for the loo. He grabbed her before she slipped to the floor, his strong arms wrapped around her waist. He'd been wearing his football uniform and Lily had always had a thing for men in uniforms.

The rest was history.

A quick fling with a charming stranger turned into a nine-month commitment that turned into a surprisingly rewarding friendship.

Sometimes they were complete opposites.

For example, the minute James had found out she might be pregnant he started fretting over what they should name the damn fetus where as Lily had spent all night crying into her pillow thinking her career was over.

Sometimes they were similar.

For example, Lily wanted to give Harry the best of everything in life and James didn't disagree with her. He'd been the one to suggest moving in together so that Harry would have a stable home life even if they weren't in a relationship (or even friends really).

It was hard at first, because James was used to living the life of a bachelor: parties every night and escapades every day. He's made the mistake of bringing home outlandish women he'd met at Sirius' events. She'd made the mistake of playing her music loudly early in the morning after he'd returned from a tourney in Spain at 2am. He left dirty dishes in the sink. All her makeup was scattered over their shared loo. He never disciplined Harry and she was the bad cop in discipline.

They'd both made mistakes but they worked hard to make their missteps better, for Harry's sake. Eventually Lily began to do his dishes while singing to her favorite radio station when he returned from practice. James was really good with numbers and fixed her finances so that she could buy a new car with a dvd player for Harry. James found out Lily craved jelly donuts while she was pregnant and always had a dozen ready for her on her Mondays. Lily heard James had made a will and bequeathed everything he owned to Harry and Lily. James made Lily promise to save her Sunday nights for Netflix binging with him.

James turned into her best friend and was an incredible father to their son Harry.

That's probably why seeing James immobile on their sofa prompted Lily to recall that the last three years had made her become accustomed to James' presence in her life. She'd grown fond of his fascination with folding his socks. She'd laughed for days when she found out he sang in the shower. She appreciated when he began spending fewer nights on Sirius' private jet and more nights curled up with Harry by the fireplace.

"Concussion," Marlene's voice dragged Lily from her unsettled inner-monologue, "James'll definitely be out of work for a few weeks."

"Damn." Lily said crossly, "He's going to hate that."

James lived for his field time, even in the off-season. Lily had never seen James miss practice for anything except the birth of his son and a wicked pneumonia that caught him last fall. Lily had wanted to kill James when he'd lounged about the house with pneumonia. He was a moody sick baby and there was no doubt that bedridden James was going to be an absolute jewel to be around. Lily also knew the team manager McGonagall was going to come over to their house personally and tell James what an absolute idiot he was.

Personally, Lily couldn't wait for that.

"McGonagall's gonna kill him." Lily told Marlene, "their first match is in a month and he's got to practice."

"He might not be able to play the first game. He can't do any physical activity for at least three weeks." Marlene warned, "I'll order an MRI and we'll get a good look inside that brain of his to make sure there's no internal bleeding."

Lily's face paled, "I hadn't even considered..."

Marlene shook her head quickly, "Oh honey," Marlene hugged Lily swiftly and said into her ear, "He looks fine, really, I just want to be sure. McGonagall would murder me if her prize Captain retuned and passed out on the field."

Lily stared down at James over Marlene's curly hair and swallowed thickly.

"How could he do this to me?" she lamented, "Harry needs him."

Lily needed him.  

Marlene offered, "James will probably wake up soon."

"I'll wait for him to wake up." Lily said, "As long as you don't mind."

"Of course not," Marlene said, "He'll have a lot to think about…like thinking it was wise to jump out a window."

Lily laughed softly, wiping a tear from her eye when Marlene let go, "I can't believe I had a kid with him."

"I can." Marlene smirked before winking at Lily, "You did jump his bones the minute you met him."

"He was charming! He had a uniform!" Lily defended herself, "I'd like to see you pass the opportunity up when a fit footballer shows even the slightest interest!"

"Easily passable." Marlene said as she opened one of the curtains to go check another patient and order James' MRI, "considering boys don't do much for me to start with."

"There are girl ballers!" Lily shouted after Marlene who just laughed at her.

Lily grinned sheepishly before glancing back down at James.

How was she going to handle this?  

Lily knew how bothered she was that James had drunk himself piss poor around their kid. Lily also knew she was mad that she hadn't seen him so close to a breaking edge. James had been antsy for weeks now, snapping at her and staring at her and she'd ignored it. It was clear he'd had energy he'd needed released, it was clear he was regretting everything they'd built. The life James had imagined himself didn't include a baby mama and son he couldn't tote around the world with him when he went traveling for games.

Lily knew she could shout at James until his ears bled but she also thought that was a waste of time. James didn't listen to anything much if she argued with him; she'd learned that early on in their relationship. Lily chewed on her bottom lip and stared at him in worry as she watched him snooze.

She wanted James to be happy and she knew that he wanted the same for her.

"What am I going to do with you?" she thought aloud to herself.

His eyes opened and suddenly her word stopped spiraling.

It was his eyes that had done her in when she'd met him and it was his eyes that still left her heart still three years later. Eyes that were so light around the edges and so shadowy near the irises that they seemed to be constantly shifting between mischief and delight. She remembered the way his eyes traced her body so adoringly the night their lives had changed. She remembered admiring those eyes under the yellow lights of his flat downtown and wondering how anyone could be more persuasive with one sneaky glance over a dinner table.

Lily adored seeing his eyes scan her face every morning over a pot of coffee and she looked forward to watching his eyes sparkle with laughter every night before bed when Harry had finally fallen asleep to Lily's singing.

She wouldn't be able to take it if she never saw James' eyes staring at her the way they stared at her when he woke up from his feinting spell.

"What happened?" he muttered, pressing a hand to his brow where Marlene had taped gauze to the lesion.

"You jumped out a window onto a trampoline." Lily's voice was monotonous, her brain still firing a mile a minute.

James choked back a laugh, "that sounds like me."

"What was going through your head James?" Lily's voice cracked when she spoke.

"Tequila."

Lily, unsatisfied, stomped the ground, "James!"

James winced. "Please," he begged, "Inside voice."

Lily opened her mouth to shout again but felt as if half the patients could hear her and she lowered her voice, "Okay, how do you feel?"

"Like a million bucks now that you're around."

As per usual, he upset her beyond repair. Lily certainly hoped that their son took after her and the idiotic gene skipped a generation. Lord only knew how much Lily hoped that Harry never got it inside his head to jump out a bloody window onto a trampoline outside. The hospital walkie-talkie on Lily's hip was loud and she turned it down so she could focus on James. Lily knew that Longbottom would come grab her if she was actually needed.

"James please tell me how you managed to get the bright idea to jump out the window."

"I don't remember." James replied with his nose pointed in the air like Harry did when he was being obstinate.

"You don't remember." Lily considered that James was lucky she'd been worried about him—otherwise he might be dead by morning, "what, did you mange to get amnesia with that busted head?"

"Who are you?" James crumpled his face at her endearingly and Lily almost chucked her radio at his head to give him a matching lump on the other side.

"James." Lily warned, "you've got all sorts of places I can make you hurt right now."

"Why would you hurt me?" James huffed, "I've got amnesia."

"I wish I'd wake up with amnesia right about now." Lily muttered unintelligibly before saying heatedly, "I'm the mother of your son, you git."

"We're married?" The way James feigned surprise almost had her fooled, almost made her heart drop out of her stomach, if she wasn't so used to James' mischievous ploys, "Like, actually really married?"

"Yes James," she said sarcastically with a roll of her eyes, "Sirius married us at Elton John's birthday party after you proposed to me riding a fucking white stallion on the beach in Greece."

James looked delighted. "Yeah, that sounds like me too."

Lily tapped her foot on the floor, "You really worried me James," she blurted out emotionally, "I thought something happened to Harry or—" she faltered before she could say you because all jokes aside they'd not crossed the line of friendship since three years ago.

"Come here." He ordered suddenly, seriously, and not at all like himself.

Lily walked forward to his bedside. James grabbed her hand and yanked her down so they were eye to eye. Lily watched as he licked his lips. She considered that she'd never seen him flirt with her so readily and she wondered where on earth his charm had been since the night they'd met. His left hand brushed her fringe from her eyes and a sad sigh escaped her mouth.

"Why?" she whispered.

James' face went a pink as they stared at each other, his eyes less bloodshot than they'd been an hour before. His right hand left the grip of her fingers and trailed up her arm, until his thumb was pressing into her chin, His tender touches were sending her back to the night when he'd had her pushed up against a mattress, whispering sweet nothings into her ear. His hitched breath was bringing her back to when they were complete strangers and had no emotional attachment, which seemed easier than the feeling currently sitting in the pit of her stomach.

"I love you, Lily."

Lily pulled away and stared at him in wonder, never had he ever said those words to her—unless accompanied by mockery or fun. This time the words were tense with passion she hadn't heard of or seen from James in years. The last time he'd seemed so serious about loving Lily was the day she gave birth to Harry.

"What?" she blinked owlishly.

"What?" he copied her cautious tone.

"You.. you love me?"

James grinned cheekily and her knees felt weak, "well, I married you didn't I?"

Lily stared at him. She was aware he was getting closer to her. He'd sat up completely in the hospital bed, the IV tubes shaking as he moved his spare hand to her cheek, pulling her close. The world around Lily stopped as she felt his warm breath trace her lips coyly. She knew she shouldn't kiss him since it was clear to her now that James was suffering some sort of amnesia since he believed they were married…but Lily hadn't kissed him in years and she couldn't resist when he was so willing to hand out his love despite the history between them.

"You gonna kiss me or not, Mrs. Potter?" he teased.

She inclined forward and pressed her lips impulsively against his. James sniggered against the movement unexpectedly but his laugh switched to a feeble whimper when her tongue pressed into his mouth. It was like the past three years of all her feelings were coming out in the hospital where it all started. Lily's hands were gripped in his shirt, yanking him up a little too roughly for someone with a concussion but she didn't care at all.

All the months, weeks, and days of tension between the couple lifted as his teeth grazed her skin and his hand wrapped around her waist to pull her closer to him in the bed. He lips tasted like he'd been drowned in tequila but Lily savored each hint, getting inebriated off his kiss alone.

It was the loudspeaker above James' bed calling for all doctors to go to room 31 that woke her up from the dream spun real life. When Lily pulled away from James she had to lean her forehead against his to catch her breath, her was heart pounding in her chest.

"Holy shit." James gulped, rubbing his nose against hers when she smiled perceptively.

It seemed James was having as much trouble breathing as Lily and his heart rate monitor was beeping madly. Lily tried her hardest to not think about the repercussions of kissing her best friend when he was just that—her friend who also happened to be the father of her child. Lily's chest rose and fell rapidly as his fingers came to brush against her cheek lovingly.

"I hope I really don't have amnesia." He said when he'd caught his breath.

"What?" Lily pulled her forehead off his.

James licked his lips, swollen from her sharp biting and pulling. His hair was in disarray and some of the tape holding the gauze to his injury was slipping off. Lily recognized the lighthearted look on his face. His bliss was accompanied by something else…something she saw often on James' face…a victorious look…like he'd just won a huge game.

"I said, I really hope I don't have amnesia," James repeated, "because I never want to forget that kiss."

Lily suddenly felt awful. He was totally in love with her and she wasn't even his wife. She had to come clean that she'd unthinkingly taken advantage of what she thought had been a joke.

"James," Lily swallowed regretfully, "I'm not actually—"

"Lily, I was just teasing," James declared.

"Huh?" Lily tilted her head at James in confusion.

"I know we're not married."

Relief settled in Lily's chest, "you do?"

"Yes." James answered shamefacedly, "I thought we were teasing each other."

"James Potter you git! I knew you were teasing but you seemed so—serious!"

"I didn't know you thought I was serious!" James protested, wincing when she smacked his arm out of frustration (relief), "I thought you'd break me off the minute I went to kiss you!"

She flushed, "uh."

Then he grinned presumptuously, "I had no idea you were holding back, Evans."

Lily fell into the chair closest to his bed and covered her face, "For five seconds I thought you were dying." She told James, "I thought Harry would have to grow up without you and that I'd—that I'd—" she pulled her fingers down to stare at him with a tortured expression, "and then you said you love me and fuck it all if I don't love you too, James Potter."

James' mouth dropped open at her confession. Lily waited for him to tell her she was out of bounds. She wanted him to tell her that he felt the same way but she knew it was more likely he'd tell her they had nothing but a baby together.

James reached out his hand for hers suddenly and she grabbed it hopefully, the space between them alight with their confession, "what have we been doing the past three years?"

Lily sighed and let her forehead fall onto their connected hands. "You're my best friend James," she said, "I just didn't want my feelings to get in the way of raising Harry."

James said, "Lily, my feelings for you haven't changed since the day we met."

"You asked me over on a dare."

"You came over for a quick shag," James countered back, "and by the time I realized I loved you, you said you didn't want to marry a pro ball player."

Lily remembered the conversations they'd had after she found out she was pregnant. James had asked her if she wanted to get married so her judgmental sister couldn't call her a whore or slut or whatever else she did end up calling Lily in the letter Lily had burned in the fireplace. Back then; James was still the ball player who spent money on luxurious cruises with women Sirius introduced him too at parties. Back then; he wasn't anything but a man she'd made a baby with.

Now though, James was so much more than anything Lily had ever expected.

Even when he drunkenly jumped out windows onto trampolines.

"I didn't love you then," she acknowledged, "you kind of crept up on me, you surprised me."

"Surprised you?"

"Well," Lily disclosed her secret thoughts, "when we met it was because you'd gotten into a fist fight on the field and you were this big shot footballer in magazines and I just thought—Hell, this would be fun for a night."

"Really?" James' eyes were fluttering, it was obvious he was exhausted and was struggling to stay in the exchange, occupied by their revelations.

"Yes." Lily supposed, "and then, I found out I was pregnant. All I could think of was how weird it would all be." She smiled and kissed his fingers, "But then we began raising Harry together and somewhere along the way though adventures of potty training and telling him he can't have the last cookie in the cookie jar—I fell in love with you."

"Come here." He demanded again, yanking her fingers so that she laughed and stood up, allowing him to pull her in for another chaste kiss that only lasted long enough for her to smile against his touch, "I'm sorry I worried you."

She shook her eyes, squinting her eyes shut, "it's my fault, you've been so distant the past few weeks, I should've known you were growing bored of domestic life."

"Bored?" James protested, "Bored?"

"Yeah," Lily said, confused, "you've been so…well we haven't been hanging out as much and I know you'd rather be partying on some yacht with Sirius and his harem of friends—"

"Lily." James cut her off, "stop."

"What?" she pouted.

James' fingers traced her lips, "I'm sorry you thought I was bored or mad or whatever…I wasn't being distant because I'd rather be partying on a yacht. I was distant because for the past few months it's gotten harder and harder for me to pretend to not be in love with you."

"You really love me?" her green eyes widened.

James nodded fervently, "I know I can be a git sometimes and drive you mad." He reasoned, "I know that our relationship hasn't always been the most—consistent. I mean, thought I wanted to play professional football and travel the world Lily, but the truth is that I'm my happiest when I'm home with you and Harry."

Lily laughed through a few tears that slipped from her eyes and she wiped her cheeks as he winked at her. Hearing James say he loved her made her heart swell and she chewed on her lower lip as James continued his speech.

"It's been a nightmare to consider that Harry's going to grow older and wonder why his dad was such an arse and never put a ring on his mum's finger." James smiled at her kindly, "And I didn't know how to tell you I was in love with you so I just—pulled away because I figured, I didn't deserve to have you love me back."

Lily leaned forward to press her forehead to his, closing her eyes as she whispered fiercely, "James, I wish you would've said something."

"I got plastered with the intention of saying something when you got home from your shift in the morning." James chuckled, "the night took a disastrous turn when Sirius dared me to do a triple backflip off the roof onto the trampoline."

"Wait." Lily yanked her head back, "Off the roof ?"

"Inside voices, Lily. My head aches." James winced at her high-pitched squeal but she didn't care, she was in distress.

"Yeah of course your head fucking aches!" Lily scolded, "I can't believe you jumped off our fucking roof onto the trampoline! You're an absolute idiot!"

"I was dared!"

"If Sirius dared you to jump off a bridge would you do it?"

"Lily…" James half moaned, half laughed, "have I told you that your mom-voice really turns me on?"

Lily pushed her fingers into her bun and tugged it as she stared at him in disbelief, "how can you—"

"Come here," he said for the third time that night, kissing her slowly until her mind left the roof and was back down to the hospital room.

"Marry me," he begged when he finally stopped kissing her useless.

Lily kept her eyes closed when she said, "maybe ask me again, tomorrow, when we're sure you only have a concussion and aren't bleeding from the brain."

She opened her eyes to see James staring at her in horror, "wait, what?"

She was pleased she'd scared him, even only a little, perhaps it'd keep him off their roof for the rest of his life. Lily touched his forehead lovingly before stepping away from his bed.

"Concussion is a brain injury and has to be taken seriously." She said in her medical voice, "You'll be sidelined from work until Dr. McKinnon clears you."

James' face was paler than it had been when lily told him she loved him, "Shite." He cussed, "McGonagall's gonna murder me, dig me up, make me run three hundred yards, and murder me again."

Lily hummed in agreement, "I already texted her."

"You didn't!" he wailed and she laughed at his despair, "Evans, she can never know how it happened!"

"Oh, you can bet your arse that I'm telling this story at least ten times at our wedding."

James considered this, opening and closing his mouth before settling with, "do you want to go ring shopping tomorrow?"

"Let's get you out of the hospital first." Lily told him, pulling back the curtain, "let me go find out where your nurse got too."

"You're the only nurse I need." He asked cheekily from his bed, "want to do a full body scan? We have three years of catching up to do."

Lily's eyes twinkled as she glanced back at James through his curtained door, "I do have bad news on that front."

"What's that?" James questioned.

"Until Marlene clears you in about three weeks, all physical activity is banned." Lily smirked when she saw the disappointment written all over his face.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do for three weeks if I can't shag you, run with Sirius, or play football?" He muttered moodily, playing with the covers on his hospital bed.

"I'm sure Harry has some safe options for you."

"Well his trampoline is broken now so—"

"I was thinking board games James, not death traps that Godfathers buy their godsons."

"Board games." James scoffed as she finally left him to find a nurse, "Our son needs to experience life. Jump on trampolines. Skateboard at the park. Not play board games."

"He's two."

James wrinkled, "I'm not playing chess with Harry, or he's going to end up liking folding laundry and doing the dishes on a school night."

"Just like his old-softy dad." Lily teased.

"I'm a football legend." He scoffed, "And I took six shots a tequila tonight like it was nothing."

"You ended up in the hospital," Lily laughed at him ridiculously.

"Only after doing a double backflip off a roof onto a trampoline." He countered.

"I can't beleive I'm marrying you." She said, although affectionately.

"Epic way to get engaged, if do say so myself."

"Stay put, I'm going to go find a nurse to see when your MRI is scheduled so I can make sure I'm not engaged to a dying man." Lily teased as the curtain shut between her and the stupidly (adorkable) love of her life.

"I'm gonna die anyways once McGonagall get's ahold of me." James' voice was muffled now, like he was slowly falling asleep.

"Good." Lily said, "maybe Harry and I will finally be able to watch something other than sports on the telly."

"You can't get rid of me that easily!" James called through the curtain barrier and she giggled behind her hand, "I'm feeling great, no concussions here!"

He was such a fucking liar, but she loved him either way.