#there's water and aspirin on the kitchen counter

[scudslut]

Sins and Honey Flavored Sweetness

daryl x fem!reader

wordcount: 4.7k

warnings: 18+, MDNI, smut under the cut, perv!daryl (not really, he just has a lil crush), male masturbation, unprotected p-in-v, oral f!receiving, mutual pining

a/n: i have never written something so descriptive ohmygod. do be warned lol, hugs and kisses byeee <33

Daryl knew there were unspoken boundaries when it came to you.

A thin line of loose salt, that whispered to him. Beckoned him huskily to dust his fingers through and have a taste, but daunting enough for him to keep his soles rooted in the dirt, salivating from a distance.

It wasn’t because you were already spoken for in any way; if anything, you kept your romantic interests simmering farther on the back burner than he did, which spoke volumes in itself. Or because you were younger than him, a couple of years wasn’t anything to turn a nose up over, especially nowadays.

It was, however, the place you held amongst your people. You were like bright, shiny gold within the group, dared not to be corrupted or led astray. The heart that kept everyone’s beating, even in the darkest of times, soothing hope into the atmosphere with your infectious smile.

Oh, and you were Rick's younger sister... which he hated to admit, only tempted him more. And he wasn’t quite sure as to why.

He’d mulled it over too many times to count, noting everything about you that allured him so intensely.

He liked the contrast between you two; like sun rays peeking through the clouds after a mid-summer storm. You were soft, fresh as clean linen and he was dark, brooding. He often fantasized about taking that sweet innocent nature of yours and painting it with his essence. He knew it was wrong and constantly shamed himself for having such perverted thoughts about his best friend's sister. But, god, how could he not?

Not when you pranced around him daily, teasing him with your velvety, feminine voice and kind touches. Touches that sent brisk shivers down his spine, sure to leave him breathless and bothered — another thing he secretly liked. You were addictive in that sense, he’d distance himself the minute he felt the familiar rush coursing through his veins and then crave it immediately once it was gone. A drug he couldn’t help but relapse from.

And it didn’t help that you were always so keen to assist him, doting on his every injury or problem with such gentle attentiveness and sincerity. That might be what he liked the most. It was fascinating how pure you remained in a world so plagued, always ready to nurture. It soothed a deep, restless, and scarred part of him, finding solace in it.

He'd come to learn you were like that with everyone though. So, he found himself grappling with things to deter your attention his way, playing dumb and clumsy just to have your sweet scent fill the nearby air. He felt like a horny teenager with a hopeless crush. It was absolutely ridiculous and yet, here he was once again, feet dangling off your kitchen counter as you searched the cabinets for some aspirin to aid in his 'headache'. 

It wasn't a complete lie per se - his sensitivity to light gave him troubles quite often but, whether it was enough to complain about or not, could be debated.

Nonetheless, he sat for you patiently, listening to your quiet humming as you searched about. He loved when you did that, singing your soft melodies under your breath mindlessly. It was such a girly thing to do, but it was comforting in a way, an airy blanket warming the silence.

"Ah, here it is!" drew him out of his thoughts, and he cast a glance at your bright smile of accomplishment. You popped the cap open swiftly, shaking out 2 little white pills, and handed them over with a glass of water.

“Let me know if you need any more. They should kick in soon, but I know how tough migraines can be,” you soothed, your sympathy never faltering. He bowed his head quickly, not wanting you to see the flash of guilt that surely crossed it. "Thanks," he mumbled as he tossed his head back, swallowing them both with a shivered grimace.

Wiping the water droplets from his chapped lips, his eyes found yours again and noticed a small smirk hidden in your features. “What?”  

You let out a chuckle, reaching for the glass he held to wash, “Oh nothin’... just don’t think I’ve seen you cringe like that before, is all.” 

His brows furrowed at your statement, “So?” he questioned further.

“Walkers, blood, rotting flesh… never. But an itty bitty pill?” Your laugh grew louder, finding the situation even more amusing as you explained it to him. “Whatever,” he scoffed, hopping off the counter with a smirk. He knew you would be expecting him to leave after that, you had helped him with his ‘issue of the day’ and there was no reason to linger any further. But he did.

Daryl scanned your frame as you washed the few dishes that were in the sink, chewing on his thumb habitually. You wore a white, long-sleeve shirt with a faded band logo printed on the front and some beaten-up blue jeans that seemed to cup your ass perfectly.

His mind wandered before he could stop it, imagining how soft and warm your skin must be underneath all those clothes. How soft and warm your hands would be wrapped around him, or better yet, your pretty lips taking him deep with a moan. He felt his own jeans tighten slightly and quickly diverted his gaze to the floor, clearing his throat as if it would erase those thoughts from his brain.

“Something else you need, Daryl?” You glanced over your shoulder, wrists deep in soapy water. 

“Nah, uh, thanks. I’ll see ya later,” he said and beelined for the door praying to god you didn’t see his flushed face and half-hard cock poking through his pants. He was so fucked. Couldn’t even look at you anymore without sprouting boners and picturing you on them, milking him greedily. 

He rushed down the porch and across the lawn, bursting into his shared house with Carol just next door. He didn’t even glance toward the kitchen to see if his friend was home, desperate for a cold shower to level him out. The house was dead quiet anyway, leading him to assume Carol was out for the day.

"Such a fuckin idiot," he cursed himself under his breath as he made his way down the stairs to his room. You probably knew honestly. Could tell how pathetically bothered you got him, and just put on a friendly face to keep from embarrassing him.

He left the bathroom door open in his distress and hastily shed his clothing, stepping into the tepid water. Immediate relief flooded his senses, feeling the cool stream wash away the sweat and grime the day had caked on. Pouring some homemade soap he was given into his hand, he scrubbed at his skin, determined to rid himself of your previous interaction along with the dirty thoughts that plagued his mind. He shouldn’t be thinking about you that way, it just wasn’t in the cards.

For starters, you would have to want him too, (which he knew would never happen), and even if you did, how the ever living fuck would he explain that to Rick?

‘Oh hey Rick, I have a massive hard-on for yer sister, you okay with that?’ Fuck no. Just thinking about that conversation had him cringing in awkwardness and he shut the idea down instantly. 

But there you were still, invading his thoughts with your dreamy laugh and perky attitude. Why did you have to be such a goddamn tease?

He leaned forward, resting his hands on the wall trying to regain some composure. He gulped down deep breaths of moist air, willing his body to calm itself down, but it was fruitless. The image of your body, pushed up against the wall under his hands, wet and flushed, bubbled to the surface. He groaned. Daryl knew what he had to do. It wasn’t the first time he had gotten off thinking about you, and he damn well knew it wasn’t gonna be the last, but it still felt wrong each time, pumping his cock when you were just next door. His body craved the relief though, relief only indulgence could satisfy. 

He hissed as he dragged his fingers along his shaft, gripping at the base and beginning to pump slowly. He was painfully hard at this point, each squeeze raking shivers over his damp skin while he choked out quiet moans. With his opposite hand, he flicked the water to a warmer setting, pitifully hoping the heat and steam would resemble something close to your body against his. God, if only you were here.

He sped up, swiping his thumb over his sensitive tip with each pass, sending jolts throughout his body. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned deep and husky, not a care for the noise filling the empty house.

You were there, clear as day in his mind, moaning along with him as he pounded into you, cunt gripping him like a vice. Your breath was hot and pitchy against his ear as you begged him to fuck you harder, to go faster, to cum deep inside you. His cock twitched at that, he was already so close.

“Fuck, y/n, baby,” he whined, humping erratically into his long-forgotten hand. The muscles in his stomach quivered in bliss as he stroked himself, lost in his detailed imagination. You were cumming, trembling around him in languid spasms with his seed spilling out of you, and Daryl was over the edge, tossing his head back moaning your name as he unloaded, letting the steamy water wash it away. 

It took him a few minutes to recover, catching his breath slowly and trying to avoid the guilt that would soon be settling in. What would you think of him if you knew what he did behind muffled walls? How he thought of you in such dirty ways, when you’d only ever see him as a dear friend. He wondered what you might be doing now. Traipsing around your cozy home, oblivious to his rapid, lustful heart meters away.

The water was beginning to run frigid and he let out a defeated sigh. Absentmindedly, he reached past the curtain for a towel and stepped out, drying his hair off roughly and then wrapping the towel around his waist, turning to the bedroom for fresh clothes and much-needed sleep. His mind ached to be thoughtless, consumed by the abyss of unconsciousness.

He should have known the world stopped playing fair long ago.

In a single moment, his heart stopped and his stomach dropped to the fucking depths of hell.

There you stood, feet frozen to the floor with his crossbow in hand, like he willed you into existence. He stuttered, his mouth opening and closing like a blubbering fish. He was sure his eyes were the size of saucers, he could feel them ready to pop out of his skull and run away. There was no fucking way this was happening.

Several beats passed. The silence deafening between you both and for a moment, he honestly debated stepping back into the shower. Pretend you were a figment of his tortured imagination and just hope you’d go away. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d seen ghosts.

“You uh- you forgot your crossbow when you rushed out today,” you finally broke the silence, solidifying your genuine presence. He glanced down to the bow and then back at you, lost for words. Did you hear him? He moaned your goddamn name, quite a few minutes ago though… had you been standing there long? Were you angry?

His racing thoughts were interrupted when you stepped towards him, leaning the bow against the doorframe and moving closer. Instinctively, he took a step back, “Thanks,” he replied shakily, but you kept moving closer. He noticed your gaze then. It wasn’t on his face, but on his abdomen, at the hem of the damp towel hanging off of him. Your eyes had a gleam to them. Something dark and lustful.

No. Surely, he was reading you wrong. 

“Daryl,” you spoke, and he audibly gulped, nervousness and absolute embarrassment flooding his system, “is there something you need to tell me?” 

He didn’t answer you, instead deciding to burn a hole into the floor with his shame. He couldn’t look at you. You knew. You had heard him and were teasing him about it and here he was, a coward who couldn’t even admit to it. And you had every single right. He crossed that salty line years ago, with his first sinful thought about you. Feasted on it, deluding himself into thinking all was okay as long as his actions didn’t physically involve you.

He barely registered your advances when he finally raised his head. You were so close he could feel the heat of your breath against his burning skin, the luscious scent of vanilla and pine filling the air.

“Can I see?” you asked quietly.

He nearly choked on his own spit. Your hand was skimming along his stomach lightly, suggestively toying with the towel that covered him up. “Huh?” His mind was blank. 

“Can I see you?” you repeated, and all he could do was give you a curt little nod, not entirely sure what he was agreeing to just yet, but rendered acquiesced. Your hand pulled at the fabric softly, letting it drop to the floor revealing his manhood to your hungry eyes. Nothing was making any sense. Surely, you did not feel this way too. Surely.

There were those whispers again. He shouldn't have let you do that. He should be recoiling, shielding himself from your gaze but he was statuesque, like you had drank the life out of him with one simple look.

"Were you thinking about me touching you?" Like you had to even ask. The answer was written in plain sight, right there on his forehead and in his bashful eyes.

"M'sorry, I-" he had no clue how to even begin this kind of apology, remorse coursing through his veins rapidly. The dots weren’t connecting, not yet. "I know it's wrong, I shouldn't have-,”

And then he felt you, pressing your lips against his softly — timidly as gentle hands feathered across his waist, coaxing him into you. Your kiss was buttery, lips so smooth and sweet he wanted to drown in them. You tasted like fresh honey and vanilla ice cream, hints of minty toothpaste caught on your tongue. It was intoxicating to say the least, swarming his brain with a muted buzz and he whimpered, much to his surprise, melting into your touch quicker than he would like to admit.

“Y/n, y/n, nah we can’t,” he heard himself say as he came to his senses slowly, but he wasn’t pushing you away. Why wasn’t he pushing you away? You couldn’t, right?

“Please,” you whispered against him, low and sultry. Who was he to deny you? God Daryl, get a grip.

“Y/n, no,” he repeated, allowing his tone to take some authority even if that was the last thing he truly wanted. You stepped back from him then, a hurt expression painting your features and he felt his heart squeeze. “Why?”

His brain was scattered. This felt like a nightmare; another cruel joke sent his way to haunt him for the rest of his life. There just always had to be a price, didn't there?

"He doesn't mind, you know?" you whispered and his eyes were on yours instantly. You traced soft shapes across his stomach, sending those shivers down his spine and effectively turning him into putty.

"What’re ya talkin' about?" He needed to regain his composure, he could barely breathe with you this close, eyes raking his naked frame with desire.

"Rick... you and me. He doesn't care," you stated, "thinks it's cute actually... my crush on you."

Your crush on him?

"He trusts you, Daryl, with everything. You're pretty much the only person he would want me to be with." He hadn't thought of it that way, only ever assumed voicing his attraction to you would result in his head on a platter, or his dick… or both.

You began peppering his neck with small kisses, trailing them down his chest and over his puffy nipples. He hissed when you nipped at one, licking over it after, soothing the burn. "Ya sure?"

You nodded.

"Ya sure ya want me?" he asked dubiously. His question was answered when you grabbed his hand gently, guiding it inside your cotton underwear, letting his calloused fingers trace your soaked folds. He could have cum then and there, spreading your slick up and down between his fingers like it was liquid gold. Fuck me.

"This all fer me?" he panted, succumbed to a state of disbelief at your evident arousal. You were so wet around his fingers, pulsing and bucking slightly with each feathered stroke. "Were ya listenin' ta me?"

Hair fell over your face as you nodded sheepishly, gazing down to watch his fingers massaging you. You bit your swollen, cherry-red lip, “Couldn’t help it, you sounded so- so good.”

Now that... that got him going. Imagining your pretty cunt dripping in your panties, listening to his gasps while he fucked himself to the thought of you. Who knew the golden girl would be so naughty?

Daryl felt his confidence build, watching you fall apart for him from such simple touches. The last wire holding him back snapped and he needed more. He had waited for this moment for so fucking long.

You whine as he retracts his hand, only to be completely shut up when he places the thick digit on his tongue, sucking greedily and sloppily. It was better than he ever could have imagined, similar to the honey of your lips but so much more sweet. He went back for seconds. And thirds. Until he was dropping to his knees, deciding to lick the goddamn plate clean.

You enveloped him in the best way possible, lifting one of your thighs over his shoulder as he tugged on your tight jeans, pulling them down enough to fit his head. His tongue pressed flat against your clothed pussy, and he sucked, tasting a mixture of your sweetness and residual laundry detergent on his tongue. His moans burned the back of his throat, desperately trying to hide them but you weren’t having it, tugging on his chocolate locks for more. “Don’t do that. I wanna hear you, honey.” Good lord. He silently thanked each lucky star of his that the house was empty before emitting a guttural groan between your thighs. If this was all he got from you, a little taste of the sugar you were made of, he would die a very happy man.

He took your clit between his lips, rolling it with his tongue. Your underwear was so wet with your arousal and his spit that it was practically see-through, just calling for him to pull aside. “Please,” you gasped.

“Hm? Wha’s that?”

He’d heard you just fine. He wanted to hear you again, and again. He was greedy and you were so damn sinful, “Please, need them off, need you.”

So, he complied, as any sane man would, shimmying them down your hips as he sucked and nibbled each inch of newly exposed skin. You watched him intently with half-lidded eyes, rocking slowly to let plush skin engulf his senses like a cloud. He felt you playing with his messy hair, taking small strands between your fingertips and moving them behind his ears to see him better. The gesture struck something deep within him. You were so kind, so focused on this moment and him, he’d be damned if he let it continue on the hard damp floor of his bathroom. No fucking way.

He stood abruptly, catching you off guard. “Bed,” he muttered, capturing your lips again in a haste. He couldn’t get enough. He didn’t want a minute to pass where he wasn’t tasting some part of you. Any part of you. Sweet, sweet honey.

You led your bodies backward till your knees hit the mattress, wasting no time as you crawled up to his pillows, taking him with you.

This moment right here, this feeling… he wanted to bottle it up. Freeze time and just stare, immerse himself into every tiny detail. It felt almost criminal to continue. You were a vision, panting and squirming beneath him; so much electricity and anticipation bouncing between your yearning bodies. Could you really want this just as much as he did? Was he truly that oblivious, all these years? Whatever that answer may be, he wasn’t gonna fuck this up. Not with you.

Your hands on his face coaxed him back to reality, molding into your touch like clay. Eager lips chased his as he pulled your shirt off and as much as he wanted to freeze time and memorize each freckle of you, the more skin each other touched the more obscene the kiss became. An unartistic jumble of spit and hands and moans and thrusts.

In all the time spent pining silently for the other, you both could care less about grace.

No, he needed to hear you. Listen to every octave of moan you had in you, all at once. He needed to know each and every spot that had you whimpering and begging, this second. If time did decide to stop at any given moment he needed to have you, be you, feel everything you had to offer, and soak in it till his skin pruned.

His lips sucked and bruised their way down to your navel, and then past, kissing up your folds with lustful intent. The sounds you made above him had him seeing stars and he wanted more. His tongue slipped past your lips, finally diving into the hive of your sweetness, rolling his tongue languidly over your clit. Your hands were everywhere around him, fisting at the sheets, the pillows, and then his hair as you desperately tried to push him closer. He didn’t mind. He’d gladly suffocate between your thighs, a death he’d welcome compared to the ones he fought from outside every day.

He dove lower, smoothing his tongue over your entrance but not delving past quite yet.

“Daryl,” you gasped above him.

Looking up between your legs, he caught a glimpse of your face tossed back in pleasure and he groaned, having to ground his hips into the mattress below to relieve some pressure. “What d’ya need, sweetheart?”

He’d give you anything. The moon if you asked for it — anything to keep those pretty sounds coming from your lips. “You, you, please you.”

“How so?”

He knew he was teasing you. He’d drawn back from your glistening slit, pressing little pecks everywhere that he could reach. Your hips, your pelvis, the little crease between your thighs and your cunt. That spot drew a deep moan from you, so he focused on it, sucking and licking till it was bright red and your hips were rolling so violently he wasn’t sure how he kept his lips on you.

“In, please,” you choked out, tugging him by his shoulders to move back up. He wasn’t done yet.

“What? Ma fingers?” he toyed further, continuing his kisses everywhere but where you wanted him. “Hm?”

He brought his thumb up to your clit, pressing lightly at first, rubbing lazy, torturous circles. His lips were on the inside of your thigh, so close to your entrance but seemingly so far. He knew you wouldn’t take much more of this, you were practically sobbing above him blubbering nonsensical curses about how much you ached.

“This pretty cunt wanna be filled, that it?”

His thumb pressed firmer.

“Uh huh,” you nodded, begging him. Oh, that sound would surely be the death of him.

He finally brought his lips to your supposedly aching entrance, delving deep with his tongue. The noises he made as he lapped on your honey were flat-out pornographic, and you writhed below him, drinking everything he was giving to you. Honestly, he didn’t know how much more he could take. He wanted to draw this out for hours, make up for every bit of lost time but seeing you like this, so needy for him had his resolve shattering by the second.

With a final peck to your weeping folds, he crawled his way up back to your face. You latched on to him instantly, sensing his give and taking absolute advantage of your moment. His hips rolled into yours slowly as your tongues danced and he hardly had to guide himself with how wet you were, his tip finding your entrance easily and slipping past. You moaned rolling your hips again and he nearly bottomed out, a long deep groan ripping out of him. If he thought your lips were buttery, lord save him.

Perching himself on his forearms, he held still, watching for any signs of discomfort. He assumed you hadn’t been with anyone in a while and he certainly knew he wasn’t small, if he’d grace himself with any sort of compliment.

Sensing nothing but pleasure as your walls pulsed around him, sucking him in further, he gave, snapping his hips harshly into you. Your moans were lewd on his lips, traveling down his throat and feeding the fire that burned in the pit of his stomach.

“Fuck, y/n, baby,” he groaned again, spiraling from the fact he was actually inside you this time. Not in his hand, pretending you were fucking shower water.

No, you were beneath him, latching onto his muscles like your life depended on it. He drove deeper, hitting a spot that had you gasping for air. He hit it again, and again, needing to feel you explode around him. He watched as your face contorted in pleasure as he pounded into you. God, you looked so pretty like this. All cock-drunk and needy.

He brought his thumb back to that spot on your clit. He needed you to cum soon, he wasn’t gonna last much longer seeing you like this and there was no way in hell he was going to finish before you. Your hips stuttered beneath him, walls squeezing around him and he knew you were close.

“Come on, pretty girl, you got it,” he whispered in your ear, sucking the lobe gently between his teeth. That must’ve broken you, because then you were cursing, spasming for him which triggered his own orgasm. Your cunt milked him, his seed spilling down your thighs exactly how he had pictured earlier and it was a fucking sight. He honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he had imagined this whole thing.

He fucked out both through the waves of release, and a bit past, dropping his head into your neck to muffle the obscene groans coming from his lips. He didn’t want it to stop, but your overstimulated senses ached for reprieve.

“Dar?” you whispered once you'd both caught your breath, guiding his stubbled cheek from its hiding spot. When his eyes met yours, they were filled with so much adoration and happiness he had to hold himself back from whimpering. Never in a million years would he thought he’d get you, and here you were, looking at him like the sun shone out of his ass. The same way he looked at you for years, it was jarring to see it reciprocated. How had he missed it?

You leaned forward, tenderly capturing his lips with your own, soothing him as you always did. He knew there was so much you wanted to say, that he wanted to say, but you didn’t need to talk about it tonight. Tonight you would simply soak in each other, a gift you both thought you’d never get and one you would never let go.

He felt you giggle against his lips, and he pulled back with a lazy, fucked-out smile, "What?" he mumbled curiously.

"How's the headache now, big guy?" you teased playfully and he realized then, you'd known he was fibbing today. Saw right through his measly excuse to spend time with you.

He blushed to the tips of his ears, bowing his head to hide it, "Oh, shuddup," he mumbled, attacking your neck in kisses and nips.

Your cheeky ass was gonna pay for that tonight.

[endless-ineffabilities]

husband for a day

Ewan Mitchell x best friend reader

a/n: another spur-of-the-moment baby :) that is all.

main masterlist

With a resounding groan, you push your hair out of your face, and reach for your bedside. You prop your phone on its side to watch as 5:07 PM flashes on the screen.

Great. An entire day wasted.

You roll over on your back, eyes involuntarily squinting at the last burnt orange rays of sunlight reflected on your ceiling. All at once, an overwhelming thirst takes a hold of you, as well as the initial telltale signs of a killer migraine.

"Ewaaaan!"

Your best friend pokes his head through your door. Upon confirming that you're indeed awake, he saunters into the room while sporting a wide grin. "Well, look who's finally up."

"I don't wanna be," you moan, pressing your palms to your eyes.

"Love, you slept.... 10 hours already." Ewan perches beside you, clutching your wrists and pulling them down, clearing the way for him to press a kiss on your forehead. "Get up, trooper, come on now."

You sit up, immediately feeling woozy. Oh yeah, the alcohol was still sloshing inside of you, that treacherous devil juice making you feel like a lump of coal.

"Ughhh, I can’t." You lean your head against his shoulder, which shakes with his laughter—not exactly helping your headache. You grip him tight with both hands. "Stop fucking moving, Ewan Robert."

"Alright, ducky," he presses a kiss atop your head, allowing you to seek comfort as you anchor yourself to him, wrapping your legs and arms around his figure like a sloth. Another softer laugh escapes him. He caresses your back soothingly, then says, "I've got a glass of water and aspirin right here. You should take a drink first, okay? You'll feel much better, I promise."

No response. He begins to think that you've fallen asleep on him, when your eye opens just a crack, "Do you promise?"

"I'd never lie to you, ducky." He hands you the tablets and the water, which you down in record time, somehow still parched after.

"Mmm."

"Better?"

"Ewan... do I smell pancakes?"

"Okay, so..." you mumble through a mouthful of pancake, struggling to form the words. "Tell me again, how exactly did last night go?"

Ewan chuckles, tightening his arm around you as you sit side by side on high stools by the kitchen counter. He gently nudges a glass of orange juice in your direction, already anticipating your needs. "You really want the full recap?" he teases, brushing a crumb off your cheek.

"Yes, hubby," you reply, grinning despite your headache. It’s part of your little game—Husband and Wife for a Day—a title you both use when one of you is down for the count, the other taking on the doting spouse role with unwavering commitment. This morning, Ewan's all-in: he's made breakfast (dinner, really), restocked your aspirin supply, and even personally carried you from your bedroom to the kitchen.

"Alright, ducky." He leans in, resting his chin on his hand as if he’s settling in for a long story. "Last night, you insisted that you could outdrink Rhys, and wouldn’t let anyone tell you otherwise."

You groan, hiding your face in your hands. "Please tell me I won, at least."

"Well... you didn't," he laughs, rubbing your back. "But it was brilliant. And when you got tired, guess who carried you back here?"

You peek at him through your fingers, feigning a scowl. "Fine, I admit it. You make a pretty solid husband."

He leans back, feigning deep offense. "Pretty solid? You wound me," he says with mock drama, hand on his heart. "You should be singing my praises."

"Oh, should I?" you counter, grinning despite yourself.

Ewan's smile softens as he leans in, close enough that his voice drops to a gentle, teasing murmur. "You should. After all, it is a husband's job to make sure his wife is fully taken care of. Right?" His thumb lightly traces a path along your shoulder, sending a shiver up your spine.

You raise an eyebrow, trying to ignore the quickening beat of your heart as you hold his gaze. This is just part of the game, you remind yourself. "Fully taken care of?" you echo, barely able to hide your grin.

He nods, a glint of mischief in his eyes as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "You know, satisfied. I wouldn't want to leave any duties… unfinished," he says, the last word thick with implication.

For a moment, the teasing fades, replaced by a warmth that's both familiar and exhilarating. Ewan's gaze holds yours, a silent invitation sparking in his smile.

You lean in playfully, a teasing smile dancing on your lips as you aim for a quick kiss on Ewan's cheek. But just as you're about to close the distance, he unexpectedly turns his head. In an instant, your lips meet his—slightly chapped yet soft all the same, lingering there for a heartbeat longer than intended.

Ewan freezes, his eyes widening slightly, and you both pull back simultaneously, confusion etched on your faces.

"Wait—were we still playing the game?" he asks, his brow furrowed, as if trying to dissect the layers of what just happened.

You blink, your heart racing as you try to steady yourself and keep from simply bridging the distance and kissing him again. "Y-yes, weren't we? But then again..." You fail to sound unaffected, a nervous catch clear in your voice.

Ewan stares at you for a moment, his expression a mixture of surprise and something deeper, something that feels like realisation. "I mean, I was just… you know, being the 'husband.' But then you… actually kissed me."

"Right," you reply, mirroring his bewildered expression. "But I was... I was aiming for your cheek. You moved suddenly and—"

"Right. Right, I did move."

Silence hangs between you for a moment, both of you trying to find your footing. It feels as if the playful banter has shifted into something more serious, and yet, both of you are still processing what it all means.

"Ducky, I... I love you?" Ewan finally says, a shy smile breaking through the confusion, his eyes softening as he looks at you.

You let out an incredulous laugh at the absurdity of the moment. Did you even have a hangover? It seems as if that sensation has been effectively replaced by whatever this is. "Are you... are you asking me or—"

"I love you."

"Oh, Ewan."

"You don't have to say anything if you're not ready," he adds quickly, his confidence wavering. "I know this is sudden—"

"No, wait," you interrupt, your heart racing as you search his blue eyes. "I'm not not ready. I've just… I didn't expect you to say that now.

"And... I love you too. I always have."

His expression shifts from uncertainty to pure elation, and without another word, he leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. It's deep and raw and passionate, igniting a spark you both had tried to ignore. The world around you fades away, leaving only the heat between you, the soft press of his body against yours.

When you pull back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you catching your breath. "Fuckin' hell," he murmurs, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "That's a much better reaction than I was expecting."

You smirk, feeling the thrill of the moment course through you. "Well, consider me impressed. But I think we might need to up the ante here, hubby."

"Is that a challenge, baby?"he asks, his voice dropping an octave, filled with a promise that sends a thrill through you.

"Maybe," you tease, your heart racing as you lean closer, letting your lips barely brush against his. "I just want to see how far you're willing to go to prove you’re worthy of this title."

Ewan's gaze darkens with desire, and he moves even closer, his hands finding your waist, coaxing you to sit on top of his thighs. "You have no idea how far I'd go for you," he murmurs thickly.

Your breath hitches as you feel the heat radiating from his body. "Oh really? Care to show me?"

"Absolutely," he replies, his lips colliding with yours in a fervent embrace, his hands traversing your sides in a way that betrays the insatiable hunger he feels.

Your last remaining shred of restraint peeks through, and you push him back slightly, your eyes locking onto his. "Are you sure about this? I mean, this isn't just a game anymore."

"I'm sure," he replies, his expression nothing if not determined. "This is what I want, ducky. All of you."

You can't help but smile at the sincerity in his voice, but a playful challenge flickers in your eyes. "Then you better prove it. I want you to take care of me, just like you promised."

Ewan's lips curl into a devilish smirk. "Oh, I intend to. You just wait."

With that, he leans in again, kissing you with an intensity that makes your knees weak. His hands explore your hips, fingers teasing the hem of your shirt, and you shiver at the roughness of his hands. You respond eagerly, your fingers tangling in his dark blonde tresses as you deepen the kiss.

Suddenly, Ewan pulls back, breathless, his pupils shot black, and his lips slick from you. "How about we take this to a more… proper setting?" he suggests.

"Lead the way," you whisper, feeling a thrill of anticipation.

Once inside your bedroom, Ewan turns to you, his gaze smoldering as he closes the door behind him. "Are you ready, baby?" he asks, a query of both of lust and sincerity.

"What are you waiting for?" you reply, reclaiming the space between you, and kiss him again.

"Oh, my heart,” he murmurs between kisses, his lips trailing along your jawline. "Now you'll get to experience what it really means to be Mrs. Ewan Mitchell."

[the-queen-of-hell-666]

Logan's Girl

Kinktober 2024 - Day 13

Pairing: Professor!Logan Howlett (Logan) x Virgin!Mutant!Fem!Reader

Kink: Virginity Kink

Word Count: 2000+

Summary: You developed a crush on your history teacher, Logan. You thought it was one-sided.

Warnings: explicit language, age gap (logan is 200+, reader is in her early 20s), explicit sexual content (unprotected vaginal sex, vaginal sex, loss of virginity, oral sex (m! receiving), deepthroating, creampie, slight d/s dynamics), teacher/student relationship, soft!Logan, slight!perv!Logan

a/n: Here's day 13! I had just watched Miller's girl and wanted a better ending. Hope you enjoy!

Banners by @vase-of-lilies

You were a student at the X Mansion and your favorite class was Mutant History with Professor Howlett. You spent each class watching him teach and drooling over how handsome he was in his jeans and flannel. His muscles strained against the fabric as he moved and drew on the chalkboard. He was fairly new to teaching but he was a natural leader and he was good at commanding a class room. He made sure to pay attention to each and every student but he paid you special attention, making you feel special and your crush grew with each minute of attention he gave you. 

It was the beginning of summer and the Mansion had a tradition of a bonfire every year to celebrate the start of summer. Students sat on one side of the bonfire and the teachers sat on the other. There were drinks and snacks, and you had snuck in a flask of vodka to spike your punch with. You decided to call it a night earlier than the other students and you stopped by the kitchen to grab some water and some aspirin. You jumped as you flicked the light on and Logan was sitting at the counter with a bottle of whiskey. 

“P-professor Howlett?” You stuttered as his hazel eyes landed on you, and you had to avoid his gaze because of the intensity of it. He was in a pair of jeans and a white beater and his hair looked ruffled, he was so handsome. “Shouldn’t you be out at the bonfire?” You asked as you grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. 

“I’ve told you to call me Logan.” He sighed, then shook his head with a grunt. “Not really my thing. Crowds are too much.” He hummed and sipped his glass of whiskey and you nodded softly. 

“Sorry.” You mumbled before looking over at him, “I understand that. If I’m not focused my mutation makes me hear everyone’s thoughts. I feel their feelings, everything. It just drains me.” You sighed as you sipped your bottle of water. “So that’s why I stopped drinking and came inside. My focus was slipping.” 

Logan gave you a soft look that surprised you and he nodded, “Maybe you shouldn’t smuggle in vodka.” He teased and sipped his whiskey. 

Your eyes widened in surprise, “How did you-” 

He smirked a bit, “Could smell it on your breath.” 

You huffed a laugh and sat on the counter next to his chair and your legs dangled over the edge. “Cheater.” You teased and he scoffed and set his glass back down. 

“Like you’ve never used your powers on me.” He started as his eyes locked onto yours, making you blush under his gaze. “I know you read my mind in class, even though Xavier forbids powers in the classroom.” 

You blush harder, “Sometimes I can’t help it.” You said innocently and batted your lashes. 

He scoffed softly, “Please, you could control it the minute you walked into this school. You’re just nosey sometimes.” He smirked and stood up and caged you in between his arms as his hands planted on the marble beside you. “Naughty girl.” He hummed, making you blush under his intense gaze. 

You spread your thighs so he could fit himself in between them as his hands moved to your bare thighs under your skirt. “We shouldn’t be doing this.” You whispered as his hands squeezed your skin gently. 

“Come on, darlin’. I don’t need powers to read your mind. I can see the way you look at me during class. You’re practically drooling over me.” He smirked and your eyes flickered down to his lips then back up to his eyes. “Just like that.” He hummed and leaned down and captured your lips in his. 

You gasped at the sudden kiss but melted into his lips. Your hands tangled in his hair and pulled him closer to you as his mouth devoured yours. Your body arched into his hold as his hands moved up your skirt and to grasp your bare hips in his strong hands. He gripped and massaged the flesh of your hips and pulled you against him harder, making you wrap your legs around his hips. You pulled away to look up at him with pleading eyes and puffy lips. 

“Take me to bed, Logan.” You whispered as you rested your forehead against his. 

He smirked and scooped you up in his arms and carried you to his room in the teacher’s quarters. He kicked his door open and carried you inside with his lips attached to your neck. You moaned softly as he nipped on your flesh. He pressed you against the door to close it and his lips moved down your neck and to your exposed cleavage. You heard the tell-tale ‘shink’ of his claws coming out and he cut your dress off of your body, leaving you in your dark blue lace bra and panties. His claws retracted and the back of his knuckles teased over your breasts and down your body. His fingers teased your nipples making you gasp and arch into his warm touch. 

“Lo, please. Want more.” You whined as he reached behind you and undid your bra before tossing it away. Your nipples immediately peaked in the cool air of the room and he leaned down, keeping his eyes on you, and sucked your nipple into his warm mouth. Your back arched off the wall and you soaked your panties as he grazed his sharper than normal canines across your sensitive buds. He pulled away to move to your other nipple and took his time laving his tongue over your other bud. 

He suddenly pulled away and carried you to his bed and gently tossed you onto the duvet cover. He shucked off his tank top then moved his hands to his pants but you stopped him with gentle hands. You sat at the foot of the bed and undid his pants, taking out his girthy and long cock. You practically drooled at the sight of his weeping cock, and you slid down onto your knees in front of him. 

“You don’t have to do that, darlin’.” He said even though his hindmind wanted to bury his cock in your throat till you passed out. 

You stroked him slowly in your palm, “I want to. Even though…” You drew out avoiding his eyes, but he cupped your chin and pulled your head up gently to have you look him in the eyes. 

“Even though, what?” He asked softly, caressing your cheek softly. 

“Even though I’m a virgin.” You mumbled quietly as your eyes locked on his. 

He groaned your name softly as he closed his eyes, feeling his cock pulse in your hand. “Fuck, you’re a wet dream.” He grunted, “I’ll walk you through it. Now, open your mouth for me.” He smirked as he looked down at you. 

You parted your lips at his command and stuck your tongue out, and he gently tapped the tip of his cock against your tongue. His salty taste covered your taste buds as you wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock. You moaned softly at his taste and you gently sucked on his tip as his taste invaded all of your senses. You slowly stroked him with one hand as your mouth took him further and he groaned softly as the warm heat of your mouth engulfed him. His hands gently pulled your hair into a makeshift ponytail and slowly guided your head back and forth on his cock. He grunted softly as he pushed further into your mouth and slowly into your throat. 

Your throat contracted and swallowed around him as his cock invaded your throat. “Breathe through your nose, baby.” He instructed as he felt you start to gag around him trying to get air. His other hand petted your throat gently as he thrust deeper into your throat. You whined around his girth as his thrusts slowly got faster. He cupped your throat and caressed it gently. “Good girl. You’re such a quick learner.” He smirked before groaning as you swallowed around his cock wanting to make him feel good. His hand in your hair grew tighter making a delicious sting spread over your scalp and your thighs clench. He could feel his orgasm growing near as you took him deeper in your throat. 

He pulled you off him because he didn’t want to cum in your throat. He wanted to cum inside your virgin cunt. You looked up at him with a questioning look, “D-did I do something wrong?” You asked with a hoarse voice from having him pound into your throat. 

He shook his head quickly and pulled you up to cup your face, “Not at all, darlin’. Just don’t want to finish in your mouth.” He chuckled softly and you gave him a grin. “You were such a good girl.” He whispered and kissed you passionately as he scooped you up in his arms. He climbed onto the bed with you in his arms and laid you down on the pillows at the head of the bed. 

You cupped his face and pulled him down for another kiss as his hands went down to rip your panties from your body. You gasped at his strength and you pulled him close to press his chest against yours. “Logan, I want you to be my first time.” You whispered as you cupped his cheek softly, and his eyes were filled with lust as he looked down at you. 

“I’ll be gentle.” He whispered and kissed your forehead. 

“I trust you.” You whispered and he rested his forehead against yours and he reached down and lined his cock up to your weeping hole. He teased your slit with the tip of his cock before slowly sliding inside of your virgin cunt. You gasped at the slight pain of him pushing inside of your cunt, but it quickly turned to pleasure as his thumb rubbed tight circles on your clit. 

He grunted your name as he bottomed out in your wanting cunt, “You’re so tight, babygirl.” He moaned as he nuzzled into your neck, sucking and nipping on the skin there. “Perfect girl.” He whispered against your skin and his hands squeezed your hips tight. 

You moaned and whined as your nails dug into the skin of Logan’s back as he slowly started moving in and out of your pulsing cunt. “T-too much, Lo.” You whined as your nails left deep scratches in the skin of his shoulders, that quickly healed before you added more to his skin. 

Logan groaned louder as his thrusts sped up and he pulled your thighs up and around his hips and you squeezed his waist tight, keeping him pressed against you, keeping him buried in your cunt, “You’re so tight, sweetheart. M’not gonna last much longer.” He grunted as he angled his hips up so that his tip was rubbing against your sweet spot with each thrust. 

You felt the knot in your belly grow taut with each thrust of his cock. “L-logan! M’gonna cum. M’so close.” You whined and you tugged him flush against your chest as he pounded in and out of your cunt. 

He gripped you flush against his chest panting into your neck as you two reached your peaks. Your thighs shook around him as you came crying out his name and his hands left your hips to grip the sheets as his claws came out and dug into the duvet. You held onto him tightly as you two rode out your highs together and he dropped his head against your shoulder, as he came down from his high. You ran your fingers through his hair as you panted and came down with him. His claws retracted and he gently rolled off of you and laid beside you and wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you into his chest. 

He let out a heavy sigh, “I’ve never had my claws come out while sex.” He chuckled and rubbed your back softly and you smiled softly as you took in his sweaty chest and pink cheeks. 

“So not bad for my first time, huh?” You smirked as you rubbed his chest gently. 

He chuckled softly and kissed your lips softly, “Not bad at all.” He hummed and kissed you again.

[sexilene]

hiiii, hope ur doing well sweetheart!!

jus wanted to ask if you could write a fic, reader taking care of drunk jj? no smut tho, thank you sosoos much:)

hiii amoresss!! here it is and sending much loveee! `✦ ˑ ִֶָ 𓂃⊹

"jayjay? are you okay?" you ask softly, bending down to check on him. he was lying face down on the couch outside the chateau, blinking his eyes open to meet yours. 

"m'finebabe" he slurs, closing his eyes again when you brush back a strand of his hair away from his eye.

"you're drunk aren't you?"

"no way." he mumbles, you furrow your eyebrows watching him lazily sit himself up to prove he isn't drunk. "you look so pretty, oh man." he sighs to himself.

"yes you are...so very drunk." you giggle when he stares at you with wide comical eyes.

"hey! i can handle a few drinks!" he scowled, pointing his finger at you.

"clearly... let's go inside, i'll get you some water and medicine."

you grab both of his hands to help him off the couch but he just tilts his head back and lets you try to pull him up knowing you really weren't that strong, especially if he was weighing himself down on purpose. 

"jj! m'trying to help you!" you whine letting go of his hands, letting them drop back down to his sides. 

"you know what i want?" he grins stupidly,

"what?"

"a kiss, jus' one and then i'll do what you say, i swear!" he slaps his hand to his chest and the other hand in the air like he's actually swearing. 

"mm nmm." you shake your head, he then makes a "pinch" sign with his fingers to show that he just wants a "little" one. "help me, help you!" he tries to reason.

"maybe later baby, you are like so completely wasted right now." 

jj rolls his eyes dramatically and pushes himself up off the couch slowly. following him into the house, he walks over to the kitchen and stands there like he's waiting for you to do the work and get him water and medicine so you fix him up a glass of water and hand him some aspirin. 

you watch him chug down the water, droplets dripping down the sides of his mouth as he drinks. you take the glass from him and fill it again with more water, repeating that at least one more time before he declines it claiming that you are gonna make him he's piss himself.

"i'm so unbelievably hungry right now, it's wild." he breathes still obviously kinda intoxicated. setting down the empty glass down on the counter, he opens up the fridge. 

"well, i can make you a grilled cheese?" you stand behind him, peeking into the fridge. 

"wan'me to help you?" he turns around to look down at you, raising his eyebrows.

"s'okay jayjay, go lay down and i'll bring it to you." smiling you place a hand on his cheek and kiss the other right on his dimple, ushering him out of the kitchen. 

"not too much butter on the pan!" he shouts as we walks away, pointing his finger at you again.

"i know how you like it! " you shout back.

you find where he's resting now and hand him the plate. he gratefully takes it and thanks you, immediately inhaling the sandwich.

"good?" you smile at him, happy that he's enjoying what you made him.

"very." 

"lets hope you don't get a major hangover tomorrow..." you sigh and lay down on the bed next to him.

"wan' some?" he shoves half of the grilled cheese in your face, you take a little bitty bite right where he had.

"could eat this for the rest of my life, you know that cupcake?" he shakes his head exaggeratedly like its the first time he's ever tasted a grilled cheese, completely in awe.

you just nod bringing your hand up to draw little shapes on his back while he just sits there eating. it was a comfortable silence, besides the soft music playing in the background that was left on coming from another room. he loved when you took care of him when he would get a bit drunk, even if he wouldn't remember most of it tomorrow morning.

[kpoptrashibnida]

Bottomless Mimosas

A/N: Looks like Soobin won the poll I made for this short one-shot. It's essentially PWP but I kind of am crap at writing smut. I love reading it! But I kind of suck at writing it. Anyway... Here y'all go! Happy reading! MINORS DNI 18+

Today was your tradition of going to brunch with your best friend, Minji. Every month, on the last Friday of the month, you two would get dropped off to your favorite brunch spot where you would take full advantage of their bottomless mimosas and your boyfriends would take turns picking you both up and dropping you off home. This tradition has been going on for a little over a year and it is something you look forward to every month. Today, however, it seems like you both lost control with the bottomless mimosas due to the hot topics of conversation.

One minute you’re in the cafe with Minji, giggling and sipping your mimosas, and the next minute you are haphazardly being loaded to the back seat of a car, a gruff male voice huffing about lack of self control and unruly heavy toddlers. You could not pinpoint who the voice belonged to, but they were being a little rude. It sounded a lot like Minji's boyfriend, Yeonjun, but you couldn't be sure. You open your eyes and you see the world spinning, making you a bit nauseous. You close them back up and lay down, your head landing on something that was firm yet soft. 

“What happened?”

“They were celebrating Minji’s promotion and got carried away, apparently.”

“Oh my gosh, thank you for bringing her home.”

“I hope they get this messed up when it's your turn to drop off. I don’t need to workout today anymore, I had to carry both of them to the car and that was a workout.”

“Yeah, dead weight is no fun. Okay man, thanks, I’ll take her.”

The annoying voices finally stopped and you felt like you were floating in air, a soft warmth surrounding you. You felt like the world around you was spinning but it suddenly stopped once you felt your back touch a soft, comfy surface. The world stopped spinning and everything went silent.

You woke up to the sound of loud beeping, feeling disoriented, dizzy and your mouth feeling more dry than a cotton ball. The light outside your window was dwindling down to twilight, and you could not believe you slept the whole afternoon away. You were going to go see what the beeping noise was,  but figured it was your beautiful boyfriend doing something in the kitchen. You smelled the foul stench of alcohol on you and decided it was better to take a quick shower first. You walked into the ensuite bathroom and were surprised to see a glass of water, some aspirin and a note on the counter.

Hello my sleeping beauty!

I know you are probably feeling a little sick, so here is some medicine and water. Go ahead and take a warm shower first. I placed your fluffy robe in the towel warmer. Come join me in the kitchen when you’re done.

Xoxo Your Soobinnie

You smiled at the sweet note from your amazing and thoughtful boyfriend. You took a quick but thorough shower, brushed your teeth and slipped into a fresh and comfortable pj set. You stepped out of the bedroom, eager to see and hug your cute boyfriend. 

“There she is!” Soobin exclaimed, placing a pizza on the cooling rack.

“What are you doing baby?” You asked, looking at the food, drinks and cozy set up in the living room.

“Well, I figured you were going to be hungry when you woke up, so I made some pizza and thought we could have a cozy night in and watch some movies.” He explained, cutting the pizza into slices. 

“Aww Soobin! You didn’t have to go through all this trouble.” You cooed, making your way to your giant boyfriend.

“It’s no trouble at all my love. I love doing the things you like.” He wrapped you in his strong arms and held you tightly, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Now let’s go eat before the pizza gets cold. I have queued the movie already.” He said as he grabbed the pizza tray and made his way to the living room.

 “Do you mind bringing the sodas with you?” He said over his shoulder.

You absentmindedly grabbed the drinks as you watched him walk away, a slow burn traveling your body. Soobin had always been so kind and attentive, so this behavior was nothing new. What was new for you was having such a loving and attentive partner. You didn’t date much before dating Soobin, but the one other serious relationship you had heavily lacked in comparison to the one you have with Soobin. That warmth traveled from your heart down to your lower belly, a slow ache burning. It didn’t help that he also looked extremely good in the gray sweatpants and black t-shirt he was wearing. 

You took your place next to him on the couch and ate your pizza in silence as you tried to pay attention to the movie he decided to play. Of course, he just had to play ‘The Devil Wears Prada’, knowing it is your all-time favorite comfort movie that you can watch over and over without ever getting bored of it. The warmth you felt grew stronger as he wrapped his arm around you once you both had finished eating, his big hand softly caressing your arm absentmindedly. He was so into the movie, oblivious to the fact that you were burning for him.

You decided you had enough, you needed him this instant. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, confused as to why you stopped your favorite movie.

You sat up at the same time, looking into his concerned eyes. Those beautiful eyes of his were roaming your face, looking for a clue as to why you turned off the movie.

You said nothing however, but instead,  you leaned into him and placed a deep kiss on his lips.

He was taken slightly aback by the suddenness of the kiss but he did not shy away, returning it enthusiastically, albeit, a bit confused at the change in mood. 

You needed to be closer to him, so you straddled his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, enjoying the feeling of your soft body pressed against his. He did not know what brought on this mood but he was certainly not complaining. His tongue explored your mouth as his hands explored your body; going under your baggy shirt and caressing the soft skin of your sides and lower back. You sighed at the feeling and decided that it wasn’t fair he was the only one touching skin. 

You slightly pull away from the kiss, his lips chasing yours in protest. You pull his shirt off of his broad frame, your eyes drinking in the glorious view in front of you. His body definition was testament of how active he was, and he wore it well. Your mouth watered at the sight and you quickly got rid of your pajama top, Soobin’s eyes widening at the sudden motion. You wrapped yourself around him again and connected your lips in a desperate kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck one more time and your hips undulating on top of his. 

He grunted at the movement of your hips, a shudder going down his spine as he felt the pleasure start and his member harden. He traveled his hands from your waist, up in between your bodies, softly grasping your breasts. The heavy globes were soft in his slightly calloused hands, he couldn’t help himself but give them soft squeezes, earning a sigh from you. He removed his lips from yours and traveled down your neck, leaving a wet trail behind. Your body shuddered the second he took a nipple in his mouth, your back arching in pleasure. He tweaked the nipple of your other breast while his mouth worked on the other one. The pleasure was electric, sending shivers down your spine. You grind your hips harder against his, the pleasure becoming too much. 

“Soobin, I want more.” You plea, your neediness evident. He was making you feel good but it wasn’t what you were after.

“What my baby wants, she gets.” He murmured seductively in your ear.

Next thing you know, he flips you over and places your back on the couch, his large frame hovering above you. He removes your pajama bottoms and smiles at the sight of your bare core.

“No panties? Seems like this attack was premeditated.” He teases smugly, salivating at the sight of your glistening core.

“No it wasn’t. I guess I just forgot.” You said innocently but he wasn’t buying. You didn’t realize you forgot to put on underwear, maybe subconsciously you knew how this night was going to end. 

“You look so cute when you lie.” Soobin teased, the playful smile quickly turning into a cynical smirk the moment he started to lower his head to your glistening core.

“Wait! No, Soobin, I don’t want that.” You placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him from going down. He raised an eyebrow in question since you normally loved it when he went down on you. “I want to feel you inside me now.” You said, not caring if you sounded desperate. It was a feeling your body wanted, no, needed. 

“Who am I to deny my baby’s request?” Soobin teased, his member throbbing at your words. 

He retracted from your body and in one quick motion he removed your pajama bottoms. The slight breeze made your core clench and he groaned at the beautiful sight. He quickly rid himself of his sweats, his member springing out enthusiastically. You gulped at the sight of the hard remember, his tip dripping in precum. Soobin’s fingers entered you slowly, coaxing your core to open up. You moaned at the feeling, the squelching noises bringing a slight blush to your face. You felt the pleasure building up, the pressure in your lower belly growing by the second. You moaned loudly as your hips undulated because of the pleasure Soobin’s fingers were bringing. As soon as you felt like the pressure was going to snap, Soobin retracted his fingers from your core, earning a whine from you. The whine stopped the second you watched Soobin pump his member a couple of times, bringing it closer to your aching wet core.

“Are you ready baby?” Soobin coos, earning an eager nod from you.

He chuckled at your reaction, tapping the head of his dick twice on your clit before finally entering you in one swift thrust.

You gasped at the intrusion, the stretch of his full member feeling deliciously tight. Your arms went around Soobin’s shoulders, bringing his head down to yours and encasing his lips in a heated kiss. His tongue explored your mouth in desperation, his body moving slowly on top of yours. You moaned in his mouth, the sensation of his dick slowly thrusting inside you making your head spin. But it wasn’t enough. You needed more.

“Faster.” You pant, detaching from his hungry mouth.

Soobin never missed a beat and he started thrusting faster, placing one hand by your head and using his other hand to grab your left thigh and hiking it up on his waist. The difference in angle had you moaning his name, back arching off the couch. He licked a strip up your neck, nibbling harsh kisses along the skin of your neck. The sensations were overwhelming your body, making it move to be as close as possible to Soobin. Your fingernails dug into his back and he pistoned his member inside of you, his tip always hitting the spot inside that made you see stars.

He could tell you were near your end by the way you moaned and clung to him, your velvety pussy feeling like a vice grip every time you clenched around his member. 

He sat up, placing his right foot on the floor, his left leg bent on the couch. He grabbed your hips and slid you down closer to his member, holding you by the waist as he continued to thrust into you at a rhythmic pace. 

“Oh god Soobin, right there.” You moaned in complete pleasure, your hands traveling to your breasts and squeezing them. You were so so close. You just needed a bit more.

Thankfully, Soobin knew you like the back of his hand and he knew exactly what he needed to do to push you over the edge.

He adjusted himself so he could bend down and take your left nipple in his mouth, licking and biting the nub until it got hard. You moaned at the sensation, the warm feeling pooling in your lower belly. He then moved his right hand in between your bodies and began to rub firm circles on your clit, making you gasp at the onslaught of sensations.

The gasp quickly turned into a moan and your hips began rocking harder against his, the warmth pooling in your lower belly even faster.

Soobin continues his sweet attack on your body; his dick pistoning you in a pace that you do not know how he could keep up, his tongue working your nipples and his firm fingers rubbing your sensitive clit. All at once these sensations overwhelmed you and you were about to snap.

“Soobin stop. Stop!” You pleaded, but he knew better. Your pleas for him to stop were nothing more than you asking him to make you finish. You tried to remove his head from your breasts, but he didn’t budge. You tried to remove his fingers from your clit, but he was unmovable. 

Your heart started to race faster, your hips grinding against his. Yes, you pleaded with him to stop but you didn’t actually want him to. He gave a few more hard thrusts into your sopping core, his finger pressing harder circles against your clit and one hard bite on your nipple and you finally came.

“Oh god yes!” You shrieked, your body convulsing against his. 

He thrusted a few more times, overstimulating your sensitive pussy. You clenching around him finally brought him to his climax, his warm hot cum shooting inside of you, making your body shake in pleasure. 

He slowly finished pumping his cum in you, watching the way your body slightly trembled with the aftershocks of your pleasure. 

He was about to pull out of you when you suddenly grabbed his arm and stopped his movements.

“Wait! This couch is almost brand new, we can’t get it dirty.” You reasoned, not wanting to have to take out a cum stain from another couch. 

“You got it.’ he said, carefully picking you up with his member still inside of you.

“How are you still hard?” You ask in shock, clutching to his body as he walks you both to your bathroom.

“Because my baby is so sexy, I’m always ready for you.” He teased, giving one slight thrust into you.

“Stop that.” You gasped at the overstimulation. 

He doesn’t do it again but he starts to slowly chuckle, his trembling body making him thrust in you slightly.

“What’s so funny?”” You inquire.

“Nothing… It’s just that your day started with bottomless mimosas… and now you’re bottomless after mimosas.” He laughed then, finding his joke hilarious.

You gave him a small chuckle and rolled your eyes. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” You say, giving him a small peck on the nose.

“I’m not cute, I’m sexy.” He argues, earning a laugh from you.

“Okay yeah, you are sexy.” You agreed, your heart feeling full of love for your sexy boyfriend. 

[snowdrop-ivy]

Chasing the Clouds: A Journey Back to The Beef | 5

Summary: Mikey left the restaurant to Carmen, Natalie, and you.

Trope: Second chances

A/N: Here's a little something for ya! <33

You jolted up when you heard a bang pop. You noticed that you were alone in the room and a swift of pain circled on your head, the drinks you had now giving you consequences. You saw that there was a coat on the box you slept on. You saw it was Carmy’s, it was the coat you got him when you got your first paycheck from your photography gig that you did over the summer. You smiled as you examined the jacket and felt your heart flutter when he decided to keep it. You wondered if he threw away the gifts you gave him. You sniffed it and the scent of Carmy lingered inside of you; his minty fragrance. You decided to go out to the commotion outside and you saw that the window broke down. Not completely but there was a hole in it. Like it was shot. Waves of shock and confusion flashed on your face as you heard Natalie and Carm fighting on the counter, they were looking at the window as the crew cleaned up the shards of glass. Carm was inside the counter with his arms crossed while Nat’s on the other side with his elbow propped on the counter. You stood behind Nat then you placed your hand on her shoulder.

“What the hell happened?” You asked, looking at the boys sweeping.

“Someone took a shot at us,” Carm answered before going to the kitchen.

“Us?” You questioned, seating at the chair behind you. “Us, you mean us people in here or us like the restaurant?”

Nat shrugged her shoulders. Carm returned with a glass of water and aspirin for you. “Both maybe.”

You smiled at him as he watched you drink the medicine for your head before turning his back on you. Richie went back inside carefully, not to step on glass. 

“You okay?” He asked a girl with a bandana on her head. She must be the new crew Carm hired to help them out.

“Yeah, you?” She answered.

Rich sighed. “Yeah, fuck. I don’t even know anymore,” He said, raising his hand then went to the kitchen.

“Should we call the cops?” You inquired, hanging your head then rubbed it.

“No,” All of them answered, shaking their heads.

You looked at them with your brow raised. 

“They’re sweeping glass up,” Nat reminded Carm. “On a Tuesday afternoon.”

“I know,” Carm replied, nodding his head. 

“I’m gonna lose my house,” She emphasized.

“Don’t co-sign for a drug addict,” Carm answered his sister nonchalantly before going to the kitchen. “45 minutes to open, chefs!” He yelled.

“Carmy!” You called out as he was on the door. “You’re still gonna open? Are you fucking kidding me?”

He took a deep breath before turning to you. “If we don’t open, Nat’s gonna lose her house!” He couldn’t help raising his voice. 

“I offered to pay for it!” You yelled back, sitting up straight to stare at him.

“And I said no!” He said, raising his voice higher. “Why don’t you go and plan your fucking wedding and leave me the fuck alone!?”

Nat called out his name. Your breaths quickened and you felt the tears blurring your vision. You gave out a mirthless laugh before standing in front of him, raising your head to level with him. “I don’t do that, Carm,” You shook your head. “I don’t leave people when they need me.”

Carm slammed the pans in front of him when he heard you bolted out the door. “Fuck!” He yelled then slammed it again. He went out the backyard and saw Richie sitting beside the bench. He sat on the bench, widening his legs and wrapping his arm around it.  

“What?” Rich asked, looking at the ground.

“I didn’t say anything,” He replied, looking in front of him. He rocked himself back and forth thinking about what he said to you. Carm thought that you coming back into his life, well semi-back, that he can apologize and be acquaintances again. That’s what he hopes for, to just be civil with you and hope for the best. He just wanted to shoot himself in the head as the memory of him shouting at you. You’ve had fights before but that was different, you weren’t close to friends and he just shouted at you. It wasn’t your fault, it was his, he’s honest on that. No excuses.

“Carm…” Rich called him, looking annoyed that he wasn’t listening. “I asked if you found what Sug’s asking for?”

“Huh?” He knocked his senses. “Uh no. I didn’t find it,” he replied, shaking his head.

Rich took a huff of smoke. “Paperwork’s not really my jam,” he admitted. “Didn’t they teach you accounting at Noma?”

Carm turned to him. “Did they teach you at DevRy?” he asked back, reaching for his cigarette.

Rich shook his head. “Nope,” He let out a dry laugh. “Is that an oven?” He pointed with his head. 

Carm studied the scar on his right forearm. He remembered that day when he got it. “No, it was Michael’s 15th birthday. Jan-Carlo and Fak got into a fight, I tried to break it up and fell into the barbeque,” He explained then pressed the end of the cigar to his lips.

They both laughed at the memory, cursing the Faks. Carm turned to Rich. “Is there a name for that thing where you’re afraid of something good happening ‘cause you think something bad’s gonna happen?”

Rich shook his head lightly. “I don’t know. Life?”

Carm made a mental check on his head. Maybe he was right. Life is the name of that thing. Because that’s how Carm works. He’s afraid of something good because he knows something bad will happen after. Rich went on to tell how his daughter thought his last name was bad news because he only called with bad news. Carm went back to the office after checking on how the kitchen is doing. Nat was sitting on the floor along with the left of the boxes. He sat across her, in the place where you sat. He opened the drawer on the table and found the case of pills Mikey had. His brother had an addiction with prescription pills. Carm showed it to Nat then returned it back.

“I knew it was dumb to co-sign. FYI,” Nat stated. “But Y/N convinced me, she told me how it was our family’s legacy and I would be guilty of letting it down as I drive through this place.”

Carm leaned his head on the wall. He didn’t know that. Maybe that was the reason you also co-signed on it. But he doesn’t have a reason on why he co-signed. 

“You wanna fight?” He asked, knowing his sister.

“Please,” She answered, looking at him.

“I know you’re mad at me,” He started.

“This is irresponsible. And shouting at her after all these years? Was a dick move, Carmy. A fucking dick move.”

He closed his eyes and nodded. “I know.”

Nat sighed, her face more relaxed. “Look, I think the thing that just pisses me off is the thing  that I’m probably too embarrassed to admit, is that you never ask me how I’m doing. Like, ever. I know it’s childish but that’s why I’m mad at you.”

Carm gave a half smile while listening to his sister. “Plus we never spend time together. This place is eating you alive, Carm.”

He looked at his sister, his eyes softening at the thought. “You always blame this place.”

Nat smiled at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you blame the restaurant. You don’t blame Mom or Mickey.”

“How can I not blame this place?” She questioned. “I just cleaned up shot-out glass and now, I’m covered in carbon. All of our time, money, work gets sucked up into this place. The only thing we get back is chaos, resentment. It’s bullshit.”

Carm gave out a cheeky smile. “Sounds like Mom.”

“I’m serious,” She said, looking dead in his eyes.

“I’m serious,” He shot back.

Nat placed the papers on the box beside her. “I just want things to be calm. I just want things to be on solid ground. I want things to feel…”

“Consistent,” He ended her sentence.

“Yeah,” She nodded, her forehead creasing. “Consistent.”

He pursed his lips. “Yeah, that’s totally reasonable.”

“Well…” Nat raised her shoulders and her mouth curved into a smile. “I appreciate you saying that.”

“Uhm,” Carm added, looking at the ground. He massaged his hands getting ready to open up. “I guess, all the time, I feel like I’m kind of trapped because I can’t describe how I’m feeling. So, to ask somebody else how they’re feeling, that just seems, I don’t know, insane?”

Nat chuckled. “Okay.”

“I’m sorry. You know," he admitted. He really was. “You’re right. I wanna know how you’re feeling. How’re you feeling?”

“Really good. Just great,” She stated, her heart softening as his brother was trying to patch things up. “It’s not just me who you should be apologizing to.”

Carm let out a mirthless laugh. “Yeah, I don’t know how I’m gonna apologize to her.”

She plastered a smile on his face. “You can start by calling. Ask her also how she's doing.”

He nodded and licked his bottom lip. “I guess I can try that.”

Carm turned to the box on his side and slid through the folders. He picked up a blue folder. He studied the papers on it. “Yo, is this it?” He asked, showing the folder to her. 

They both nodded as they browsed the papers. “Yeah, that’s it,” She laughed. “Just sittin’ in this file labeled…” Nat turned her head sideways. “Shit.”

They turned to each other before laughing. “Fucking Mikey.”

[freshabogados]

Wicked Fates | Lead the Willing

Summary: You didn't expect that night to change your life. But the fates had other plans. Matt Murdock aka The Devil of Hell's Kitchen shared his secret with you and now you had to guard it with your life.

Pairing: Daredevil x gn!reader

Tags: angst, TW! descriptions of panic attack, lazy day read, microscopic amount of fluff, daredevil trying to act mysterious backfires

You can read the previous chapters here.

You were stranded in the middle of Times Square. You could hear jackhammers drilling away, accompanied by the loud clamour of taxis, businessmen, tourists, street performers, and who knows what else. Or at least that’s what it felt like when you began to wake from your sleep. Your many attempts to return to the unconscious realm were spoiled by the loud noises from the streets, so you decided to get up anyway.

Who the fuck wakes up so early on a weekend?

Groaning, you turned to your bedside table, looked at your phone, and realised that it was almost lunchtime.

Welp, I the fuck didn't.

You decided to remove yourself from bed and made your way to the medicine cabinet to take care of the mini construction project inside your head. Just as you opened the medicine box, you noticed a bruise on your wrist. The events of the night before started coming back to you, again.

The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen was here. And he was blind.

You inhaled sharply as you started replaying the events, beginning with that unfortunate night on the street. How did you end up here? How did your monotonous life suddenly turn into an action-packed Netflix show? What are you going to do now?

Too many questions began piling up in your head, worsening the headache you were trying to remedy. Shrugging those thoughts away, you popped an aspirin, cursing yourself for not having eaten anything beforehand, and gulped down a glass of water.

The bruise on your hand was beginning to hurt. You noticed that the bracelet now had a few broken rhinestones. You unclipped the bracelet and set it on the counter, hoping to fix it.

You don’t bruise easily, yet here you were, running your fingers over it delicately, hoping not to apply even the slightest bit of pressure. You recalled the words of The Masked Man just as he was leaving, “Apply some ice on it.” For a guy who wouldn’t have batted an eye before putting you into a coma, he did show some remorse for causing harm.

Maybe he isn’t that dangerous?

You did as he suggested and decided that thinking about everything that led to last night wasn’t going to help you in any way. You chose to distract yourself with chores instead—you had a busy week and hadn’t done laundry or cleaned the house. What’s a better distraction than listening to a podcast and cleaning?

You spent the rest of the day cleaning and organising your kitchen and bedroom. You wanted to reorganize everything but that would make you too tired, so you decided to stop yourself and decided to make pasta for linner. You loved pasta, you could eat it any time of the day and after the day you just had that's all you needed...especially last night.

NOPE! We are not going there.

By dusk, you were exhausted, you were craving for a warm bath with lavender oil. So that’s what you did.

After your warm bath, you felt slightly more at ease. The ache in your head had dulled, and the events of the previous night, which had kept playing in an annoying loop, seemed a little less daunting. You curled up on your couch with a can of Bonbon, scrolling through your laptop, trying to find something interesting to watch but not really focusing on the contents on the screen.

The city’s noise outside your window was still a constant hum, but now it felt more like a lullaby than an intrusion. You were finally coming back down from the highs of the previous night.

But that wasn’t going to last much longer.

As the evening turned darker, an uneasy feeling began creeping back into your mind. You couldn’t shake the sense that something was off, that someone was watching you. Every creak of the rusty fire escape, every gust of wind against the windows, made your heart race a little faster. You tried to brush it off, convincing yourself that you were just being paranoid after everything that happened.

You ditched your laptop and chose to doomscroll on your phone, into the night. You needed to distract yourself from this paranoia.

You were consumed by the videos of a soap-maker, only to be brought back into reality when the lights went off.

Great! a power cut was exactly what I needed right now!

You turned on your flashlight and went into the kitchen to try and find some candles. Having no luck, you went into your bedroom to fetch the fancy candles and finally put them to use.

You lit the candle and placed it on the coffee table when a gust of wind blew the flame out. Grumbling with annoyance, you leaned in to light the candle again when a surge of awareness flooded you.

The window was closed when I left.

You froze, the matchbox slipping from your fingers and clattering onto the floor. Your body started to tremble with fear, heart pounding loud enough for you to hear it, your eyes darted to all corners of the room in hopes of finding the man who had left you with more questions than answers.

You saw a shadow move towards you from your periphery. Staggering, you turned towards the figure. Your breath caught in your throat as panic began to set in. The memories of the last encounter flooded your mind—the fear, the uncertainty, the bruise on your wrist that still throbbed under the skin. You stumbled back from the figure dressed in all black, your vision blurring as your head spun. The room seemed to tilt around you, and the walls began closing in.

Before you could think, before you could react, your body betrayed you. The world around you faded to black as you felt yourself falling, the last sound you heard being the distant, muffled voice calling your name as everything went dark.

.....

When you finally regained consciousness, you weren’t sure how much time had passed. Your body felt heavy, as if it had been through a storm. Slowly, you became aware of your surroundings—the soft cushions beneath you, the warmth of a blanket tucked around your shoulders, and the faint scent of lavender still lingering in the air.

Disoriented, you opened your eyes to find yourself lying on your couch. The flickering candle on the coffee table cast long shadows across the room. The fear that had gripped you earlier was replaced by confusion.

How did I end up here?

As you sat up, the events leading to your fainting spell replayed in your mind. The shadow, the fear, the sudden darkness—it all rushed back, but now, instead of terror, you felt a strange sense of calm. Your gaze drifted to the window, now securely closed, then to the matchbox that had been placed neatly on the table next to the candle.

He had been here.

The realisation hits you gently, like a whisper in the night. The Devil had found you at your most vulnerable. But instead of exploiting your fear, he had taken care of you. He had tucked you into the couch, ensuring you were safe and comfortable before he left.

For someone known as the devil, he had shown an unexpected kindness. A part of you wondered if this was the same man who had been instilling fear in criminals, the same man who had left you bruised and bewildered. Nonetheless here you were, wrapped in a blanket, unharmed and oddly reassured.

You glanced around the room, half-expecting to see him lurking in the shadows, but there was no one. The apartment was silent, save for the distant thrum of the sirens in the city. A note of gratitude welled up within you, mingling with the lingering questions.

Why had he returned? What did he want from me?

But as you settled back against the couch, you decided to leave those questions for the morning. For now, you were safe and knackered. You pulled the blanket tighter around you, letting the warmth soothe the last remnants of fear.

Somehow, you knew he’d be back. And when he did, you would be ready. Ready with questions.

.....

The Devil of Hell's Kitchen was perched on your building's rooftop, carefully listening to you as you carried on with your day. You hummed a song as you typed away on your laptop. He had been waiting ever since the sun had set, waiting for the right moment to enter your apartment. His thoughts seemed to be pulled in your direction. You had seen his face, and he figured it wouldn't be too long before you mustered up the courage to talk to the police. You plagued his mind, and it was driving him insane. He needed to end this madness. The night was still young, and the Devil’s shift wouldn’t start for a few more hours, but he was growing bored just sitting there, listening to you watch reel after reel.

Is this how normal people spend their weekends?

As the minutes dragged on and his patience waned, the buzz of electricity went silent.

Power cut. Exactly what I needed.

He stealthily descended the fire escape, nudging the window and finding it unlocked. Shaking his head in disapproval, he noted how easily he could slip into your apartment—you really needed a lesson in safety. He positioned himself near the wall where he had pinned you down the previous night, grimacing at the memory of your pained whimpers. As you returned from the bedroom and lit the candle, he opened his mouth to speak, but the flame flickered out.

Fuck. The window!

He listened to your heartbeat quicken, your muscles tense, and sweat beginning to bead on your forehead. He took a few steps forward, intending to assure you that he was only here to talk. But you collapsed onto the floor before he had a chance.

Dammit, Matt!

He knelt beside you, his hands trembling slightly as he held your frame. Relief washed over him when he heard your heartbeat calm down. Gently, he lifted you into his arms, carrying you to the couch. As he tucked a blanket around you, he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. He had caused this fear, this turmoil in your life. And yet, he couldn’t stay away.

With one last glance at your direction, he turned and slipped out of your apartment as silently as he had entered, vanishing into the night. But even as he left, he knew he would return. You were now a part of his world, whether he liked it or not. And that realisation—both thrilling and terrifying—was something he couldn't escape.

Thank you for reading my work <3

Tag List: @matt-erialgirl @shedaresthedevil @star-spangled-man @mindidjarin @e-dubbc11 @1800-fight-me @alrighty-matty @elgrandeavocados @mattmurdocksdumpy @dropsofprecipitation @lovelywebber @ninacotte

[trickphotography2]

D-Day by TrickPhotography | Chapter 4

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x female!reader

Word count: 3.6k

Synopsis: After finding out his girlfriend is pregnant, Jake is ready to move in and get married. The last thing he expected was to be hit with a six-month deployment at sea and missing the birth of his first child.

Chapter 3 | Master List | Ao3

---------------------------------------

Chapter 4

A chiming sound echoed through your bedroom. Cracking one eye open, you reached for the phone and saw an alert from your smart doorbell sayings someone had just rung it. The app showed a live video of Jake standing outside of your apartment, arms clasped behind his back. Eyes flitting up to glance at the time, you groaned and turned on the mic. “What are you doing here?” 

Jake bent and smiled at the camera. “Morning. Ready to go?”

“Go away,” you grumbled while unplugging the device and slipping out of bed. His answering laugh doubled, echoing through the speaker and from the front door as you neared. Closing the app, you set the phone on the coffee table while passing. 

Last night, he’d teased you about how empty your refrigerator was - “looks like a college kid’s, just condiments and soda” - when he’d gotten the ketchup. You’d ordered him to shut the hell up and informed him it was grocery weekend. Without hesitation, he’d replied, “Fine, we’ll hit the store before getting the car.” No matter how much you tried to assure him that you would order a car to take you to get the rental your insurance was paying for, he wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Might as well use my truck for your shopping - you never know how big a vehicle they’ll give you.” He ignored you when you said you could have groceries delivered if that was an issue.

Jake heard the lock click, and the door cracked open. When it didn’t move further, he waited a moment before pushing it open and stepping inside. After relocking it and kicking off his shoes, he walked towards the kitchen to see you pouring a glass of water with your back to him. A smile tugged at his lips as his eyes swept over you, taking in your soft, sleep-rumpled appearance. When you opened a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of aspirin, he frowned. “How are you feeling this morning?” 

“A bit sore,” you replied, washing down two pills and turning to see him sipping from a coffee cup on the other side of the kitchen island. Your eyes fell to an iced latte on the counter by his elbow and slowly rose to meet his gaze. The corners of his eyes crinkled at your confused look. With a wink, he set it in front of you and moved to sit on the couch, draping his arm across the back. The image of him sitting there - smiling at you in his casual t-shirt and jeans, coffee cup balancing on his thigh - made your breath catch. Leaving the water in favor of the latte, you made your way over and plucked the blanket off the cushions, pulling it over your shoulders to hide that you weren’t wearing a bra. Rather than retreating to your corner of the couch, you sat in the middle. A light touch caressed the back of your neck as you sipped the coffee.

“How’d you sleep?” After setting your cup on the table, you turned to face Jake, eyes narrowed. He raised an eyebrow, lifting his coffee to hide his smile. Shaking your head, you turned onto your side, back to him, and brought your knees to your chest. 

“I’d still be sleeping if you knew how to tell time,” you mumbled, resting your head on the back cushion and closing your eyes. Chuckling low, he gently tugged a strand of your hair.

“Not a morning person, I take it.” Shaking off the blanket from your hand, you lifted your middle finger high enough for him to see and shushed him. There was movement, then he wrapped an arm around your chest and tugged you backward. Flailing at the unexpected pull, you drove an elbow into his stomach and heard him grunt. His chest hit your back as he curled over, shoving a hand between you to rub where you’d hit him. 

Clapping a hand to your mouth to stifle a laugh, you turned to see Jake lift his head and playfully glare when he saw the tears glistening in your eyes, shoulder shaking with silent laughter. “Y-you okay?” you forced out between giggles. 

“Anyone tell you that you’ve got bony elbows?” 

“Suck it up, Mr. Six-Pack.”

“It’s Lieutenant Six-Pack. I could have you brought up on charges for damaging government property.” 

“Poor baby, want me to kiss it better?” you teased without thinking. Grinning, Jake twisted to lean back onto the couch arm, bringing his leg up to rest beside you and lifting the hem of his shirt. Your eyes darted across his taut stomach, and heat rose in your face as you met his gaze. He raised an eyebrow in challenge. Lifting your chin, you shrugged off the blanket and turned to face him.   

Brushing the hair from your face, you placed a hand on his shoulder and the other on his leg still resting on the floor. Your knees pressed into the couch as you straddled his thigh. Jake shifted, throat bobbing. Slowly, you lowered yourself to brush a featherlight kiss against his stomach once…twice…three times.

The muscles under your hand jumped, and you saw his cock twitch in his jeans. Looking up at him through your eyelashes, you saw his hands flexing, gripping his shirt and the couch to keep from touching you. The way he looked at you was dizzying - green eyes hazy with lust, tongue darting out to wet his lips. With a mocking look, you sat back onto your heels and cooed, “I hope that helps, Lieutenant. Wouldn’t want you out of commission because of my bony elbows.” 

Jake’s eyes fell to your breasts, nipples pebbled under your thin shirt, and nodded. “Much obliged, Ma’am,” he replied, voice rough. Holding your gaze, he bent his leg, planted his foot on the couch, and tipped you forward. Your breath caught, arousal pooling in your lower stomach as your clothed core dragged along his thigh. Smiling, he dropped his shirt and released the couch. His left hand drifted to your knee, lightly dragging his fingers and slowly inching higher. His right hand covered your left, taking it from where it rested on his chest. Gently, he pulled you forward while extending your arm so it rested on the couch behind his head, bringing you face to face. Goosebumps rose as he trailed his fingers up and down your arm, curling his hand around your wrist and holding it in place as he brushed his lips across your skin. “Almost friendly of you.” 

“Can’t have that,” you breathed, moving your right hand to his shoulder to steady yourself. His fingers slid under your shorts, and a calloused palm curled around your hip. Green eyes drifted across your face before focusing on your lips. His tongue darted out to wet his own, and you mirrored the action. 

“Course not,” he agreed. Chest to chest, every inhale teased your nipples. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he leaned up to brush his nose against yours. To place a glancing kiss on your cheek. Your chin. Nudge your head back to press a line of open-mouthed kisses down your throat. Your breath quickened as he ran his tongue along your pulse point before blowing softly, making you shiver at the cool counterpoint. His hand left your arm to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing your lower lip. Guiding you closer, his lips hovered over yours. “We’re not friends,” he said, the warmth of his breath whispering over your skin. 

Jake pulled away before you could close the distance between you. Smiling at your dazed expression, he stretched out his leg and tucked his arms behind his head. “You should go get ready - gotta get your shopping done.” 

With shaky legs, you stood. His hand shot out to steady you, a smug smirk tugging on his lips. 

If he wanted to tease, two could play that game. 

Your eyes drifted down his body, lingering where his erection pressed against the fly of his jeans. The corner of your mouth tipped up, and he shifted under your gaze, hips lifting off the couch before settling again. Pressing your fingertips to his chest, you walked around the couch, trailing your fingers over his body. You lightly scratched the back of his neck, enjoying how he leaned into your touch. It was your turn to smirk as your hands rested on his shoulders. Thumbs lightly pressed into the muscles at the base of his neck, and he stiffened before relaxing into your gentle kneading.

“So tense,” you cooed, stepping close enough that his head rested against your stomach when it lulled back, eyes falling closed. “And you spent all day in the F-18 yesterday, didn’t you? I know those cockpits aren’t very comfortable, especially the ejection seat.” Slowly, you moved one hand from his shoulder, nails ghosting along the line of his collarbone before descending down his sternum. His pecs twitched. Bending, you pressed a kiss to the back of Jake’s neck. “Mmmh, and if your Environmental Conditioning System isn’t working?” Nudging his head to the side, you leaned forward to nip gently at his pulse point before soothing it with a kiss. With satisfaction, you watched his Adam’s apple bob. “With how warm it’s been, I imagine the cockpit gets very hot. Makes it hard to concentrate.” He caught your wandering hand as it reached his stomach. 

“Just relax while I get ready. I’ll be quick.” When you tried to pull away from him, his grip tightened momentarily before releasing. Hands lightly pressed on his shoulders, you leaned close enough to whisper in his ear, “Don’t worry if you hear anything in the shower.” 

He groaned loudly as you stepped away. Yours was muffled in the crook of your arm as the water rained overhead, coming harder than you had in a while.

An hour later, you sat in the truck’s passenger seat, stealing glimpses of Jake from behind your sunglasses. When you’d gotten out of the shower, he’d cast a few lingering glances your way and had definitely looked down your t-shirt when you'd bent to put on your shoes but had otherwise acted as though nothing happened. After handing you the watery iced coffee and confirming the store you wanted to go to - which you’d done with a single word - he’d towed you out of the apartment. 

He drove with one hand casually holding the wheel while the other tapped the beat of a radio song on the shifter. Feeling your gaze, he asked, “What?”

“You’re a dick.” His laugh was loud in the cab as you crossed your arms. 

“Feelin’ a bit frustrated, darlin’?” he asked, reaching over to place his hand on your jean-clad upper thigh. “Just gotta agree to a date, and I’d be happy to lend a hand.” 

Blushing, you grabbed your coffee and mumbled, “No need - already took care of it.” Jake glanced over and dipped his chin so you could see his molten green eyes over the rim of his sunglasses, a smirk playing on his lips. With a sigh, you stretched across the center console to press a finger to his jaw, turning his attention back to the road. “Focus on driving, Seresin.”

“You’re making it pretty damn hard.”

“Pun intended?” you asked innocently, earning a groan in response as he squeezed your thigh. “I’m curious - do you get off on teasing women or something? Is that why they call you Hangman?”

“Not exactly. And you gave as good as you got. Better, actually, since it sounds like you had some fun in the shower.” Rather than reply, you pressed your lips together and tilted your head. 

“What’s wrong with you?” 

“What?”

“What’s wrong with you? What’s your damage?”

“Can’t just ask that and not expect a clarification.” Sighing, you dropped your head back onto the seat, knowing your next words would only serve to stroke his ego.

“I mean this in the least flattering way possible, but you’re nice, funny, have a good job, and are attractive,” you ticked off the characteristics on your hand. “You’re an actual good guy - so what’s the catch? Why are you still single?” 

Rather than smirking and giving some sarcastic retort, Jake sighed. His grip on the wheel tightened before switching hands to rest his elbow on the door and run a hand through his hair. “I, uh… got divorced about two years ago. Haven’t really been looking to get into a relationship since then.”

“Oh.”

“It’s fine. It was over for a while, just took some time to file the paperwork.” 

“Can I ask what happened?”

“Military life,” he shrugged. “We met at my first base, and it was fine when I was stationed there, but she… struggled when I deployed. And when I got orders out here… well, let’s just say she’s happier back in New Orleans.”

“I’m sorry, Jake.” 

“It’s fine,” he repeated, then cleared his throat. “What about you? Why are you single?”

“Because men don’t like women who don’t need them, and I refuse to pretend I do.” That made him chuckle, and he glanced over as you shifted to face him. “I grew up in the military and watched my mom deal with my dad’s deployments. You can’t watch your mom basically be a single parent for a year at a time and not realize that you can’t lose yourself in a relationship and need the other person to be with you all the time.” 

“Sounds like you’ve been dating boys, baby - not men.” After a moment, he asked, “Are your parents still together?”

“Thirty-nine years in March. Yours?”

“Yeah.” His jaw ticked, but he didn’t say anything more. You were quiet as he turned into the parking lot of the big box store and started to look for a spot. He finally pulled into one and turned off the ignition, letting his hand fall back to the shifter. 

“Hey,” you said, placing your hand on his forearm and waiting for him to look at you. “Thanks for telling me.” Swallowing hard, Jake nodded. He’d known that telling anyone he was interested in about the divorce would be hard, but he hadn’t expected it this soon.  

“Any failed marriages you want to share?” he asked after a moment. Smiling softly, you shook your head.

“Closest I got to the aisle was marrying my second-grade boyfriend at recess.” After a moment, you pushed your sunglasses to the top of your head and, hesitantly, reached over to take Jake’s off. His green eyes were guarded as they met yours. “Can I ask you a serious question?” When he nodded, you took and released a deep breath. “I don’t understand why you’re trying so hard.” 

“You’re smart, funny, gorgeous, and make me laugh. Why wouldn’t I want to spend time with you?”

“You don’t know anything about me.” Chuckling, he shook his head. 

“I know I’ve been out of the game for a while, but I thought that was the whole point of dating - getting to know someone.” 

“How long?” At his questioning look, you clarified. “How long have you been out of the dating game?” 

“Married at 25, separated at 30, divorce was finalized at 32.” 

“And you haven’t dated anyone since then?” 

“I…uh…” he said, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. “I’ve seen people, but not dated.” He admitted to your lack of reaction, “I’m trying to turn over a new leaf, and you’re making it very hard to stick to that.” 

“I’m not judging you for having fun. But I’m not looking for casual.”

“Me either.” 

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you murmured, “Please don’t make me regret this.” 

“I will pay you to get this for me,” Jake said, holding up a container of protein powder. “It’s so much cheaper here.”

“I’ll send you the money for these. They’re the best snack in the cockpit,” he said, tossing a box of meal replacement bars into the cart. 

“That’s a good deal… do you mind if I get these too?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. It had been a bit tense when you’d left the truck and awkward when he’d threaded your fingers together while walking through the parking lot. At the store entrance, he’d lifted your hand to press a kiss to the back before retrieving a cart. Once inside, he’d teased you at first about buying things in bulk but quickly matched you almost item for item in the cart. You remarked that he should buy a membership, to which he’d shrugged and said he could just come with you. Any time you reached for a heavy item, he nudged you out of the way to get it. You didn’t bother to hide your appreciation of his arms as he grabbed you a case of flavored water. He clearly noticed and flexed his biceps more than necessary.

Roaming the aisles, you asked one another questions. You found out that he had a younger sister, and he learned about your hobbies. He told you about falling in love with flying, and you told him about changing from engineering to English. He talked about attending the Naval Academy and graduating with a degree in physics. You playfully swatted him when he teased you about dodging the ‘Chair Force’ when you had mentioned almost joining the military.

Jake stopped the cart in the snack aisle and grabbed a huge container of animal crackers. Cocking an eyebrow, he asked in a horrible Australian accent, “North or south?” 

A couple of hundred dollars later, you were back in the truck with his hand on your thigh as he drove back to your apartment. “I was a kid with a chip on my shoulder and something to prove,” he shrugged. “Made some choices and was an asshole, so that’s why they call me Hangman.” 

“Are you still that kid?” you asked. He’d alluded throughout the day that he hadn’t had the best childhood but wouldn’t say anything directly. 

“Am I still the same asshole I was at 23? I have my moments, but I hope not.” 

“God, I can’t imagine getting stuck with a nickname that young for the rest of my life.” 

“It’s grown on me,” he shrugged again. “Proved I’m one of the best pilots in the Navy, at least.” Taking your hand, he lifted it to brush his lips across your knuckles. “Hear it more than my own name, most of the time.” 

“Oh yeah? Is that going to be the excuse when you ignore me calling your name?” 

“You call me, darlin’, and I’ll answer to anything.” 

“Asshole?” His laugh echoed in the cab.

Jake stood back as you circled the rental car to inspect for damages with the agent, noting the dings and dents. When the keys were handed over and the woman returned to the store, he stepped forward as you unlocked the car and opened the driver’s side door, creating a barrier between you. They’d given you a small sedan - definitely would have been big enough to do your shopping with, but you couldn’t bring yourself to regret spending the morning with him. 

Crossing your arms over the top of the door, you smiled. “Thanks for everything today.” 

“Thanks for helping me get my cardio in,” he replied. When bringing the groceries up to your apartment, he’d groaned about you living on the third floor, quipping that stairs weren’t his favorite form of cardio. You flushed, remembering how the morning had kicked off, shifting to ease the dull ache between your thighs at the memory of his lips caressing your skin. Of course, he caught the movement, and a smirk flitted across his mouth as he lifted a hand to cradle your jaw. His thumb swept across your cheek, nudging the frames of your sunglasses. “Lemme make you dinner.”

“You do realize how dangerous it is for a woman to go to a man’s house for a first date, right?”

“Good thing this wouldn’t be our first date.” You pulled away, his fingers trailing along your neck, and frowned.

“Pretty sure it would be.”

“Third - last night we had dinner and a movie, and we spent all day together today.” 

“We are not counting last night as a date,” you scoffed. 

“I had to sit through two of your Michael Bay movies. It counts.” 

“You fell asleep during one of them!”

“So did you. Still counts.”

“Today was errands.” 

“Ice cream date.”

“Wow, if you think grabbing an ice cream from a big box food court is a date, I really need to lower my standards.”  

“Had to work with what you gave me. If you’d let me take you out the first time I asked - ”

“A napkin with your number is a really smooth way to do that, by the way.”

“Got us here, didn’t it?”

“Pretty sure it took vehicular destruction to get us here.” His smile broadened, lines bracketing his mouth and nose scrunching. 

“You’re not gonna make things easy on me, are you?”

“Nope,” you replied, popping the ‘p.’ “Gotta keep that cocky pilot ego in check.”

His thumb swept across the curve of your lower lip. “Dinner?”

“I can’t - I have a lot of stuff I need to get done today.”

“Tomorrow?”

“You wanna spend the whole weekend with me, Seresin?” you teased. 

“A hell of a lot more than a weekend,” he shrugged, gifting you with a soft smile. Something in your chest fluttered. Wordlessly, you nodded. “I’ll text you my address.”

“Make sure you clear out the other girls in the meantime.” Shaking his head, Jake leaned down to brush his lips across your forehead.

“New leaf, remember? Let me know when you get home. Drive safe.” Nodding, you ducked into the car and smiled at him as he closed the door for you. Rolling down the window, you rested your arm on the door and smirked.

“See you tomorrow, Seresin.” 

“See you tomorrow, darlin’.”

-------------------------------------------

Author's Note: Jake, in my opinion, is definitely a relationship guy. He's not opposed to casual but prefers to have a partner - which is why I think he would have done the typical military thing and married young. A lot of this story is pulling from my own experiences growing up as a military brat, having close friends and a long history of family members in the military, and now working with veterans.

Yes, there are fuck boys who enjoy messing around, but loneliness is a huge issue on both the soldier and family side. Soldiers marry young for the benefit (Tricare is not that great but the increase in housing allowance and getting to move out of the dorms is a draw), but also so they have some stability when they get orders every few years to relocate. Divorce is pretty common, though, and higher in the military than in the civilian world. It is really hard on the soldier and spouse to be separated for deployments, adjust when they get back, have little control over your life, and often times move away from your family and support network for the first time. Add kids to the mix? Even harder. So... yeah... that's why I think that Jake's a relationship guy.

(Forgot to add that Chair Force is what a majority of the other military branches call the Air Force because they tend to have better accommodations and deployments. My dad jokes about how they were able to rig up an air conditioned tent while the Army guys sweltered in the Middle East during a deployment.)

-------------------------------------------------

Read Chapter 5

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[of-a-chaotic-mind]

A Drunk Mind Speaks A Sober Heart Part 2

Summary: Reader and Buck wake up hungover but manage to make it family breakfast with the team and their families. The videos from the previous night are exchanged between the two and everyone is excited that they’re finally together 

TW/CW: Evan “Buck” Buckley x Reader, Best Friends to Lovers

Requested?: No 

Word Count: 3,061

A/N: If anyone wants a spicy third part lmk. I’m kinda down to write it lol. Not sure how good it would be tho. Again I say, I’m so proud of this. 

A/N: Absolutely gorgeous he is.

Part 1 Here

--- Your POV --- 

    The sun coming through the curtains wakes me from my slumber but upon opening my eyes, I immediately shut them again because the sun is so much brighter than it should be. I roll over to find a bottle of water, some Aspirin, a note, and my phone on charge. I don’t half remember last night to be honest. I know I got shitfaced in Maddie’s living room and look around me to find myself in one of her spare bedrooms. I reach over and pick up the note and read it, “Take two and chug. Don’t forget about breakfast at Athena and Bobby’s -Maddie” I do as instructed and then check my phone to find a text from Hen that reads, “’A drunk mind speaks a sober heart.’ -Jean-Jaques Rousseau” there’s a video attached so I make sure my volume is low so that it doesn’t burst my eardrums before opening it. I watch myself confess my feelings for Buck and flop back over to my back groaning once it’s over. I take a few deep breaths before getting up from the bed.  

    I mentally thank Maddie upon finding my duffle bag and shoes at the foot of the bed. I struggle out of last night’s clothes and into clean ones, yank on my shoes, and venture downstairs in hopes of finding my keys and slipping out without waking Maddie, Chim, or the kiddo. Unfortunately, no such luck as they have already beat me out of bed. I tip toe around the corner into the kitchen only to find Maddie standing at the counter sipping coffee as she lovingly watches Chim play with Jee-Yun. I sigh in defeat as she notices my entry and picks up my keys from the counter beside her, “How’re you feeling?” she asks as she tosses them to me.   

    “Like I got ran over by a train,” I laugh, “And embarassed,” I blush.  

    She smiles, knowing exactly what I’m referring to, “It’s alright. We all knew, we were just waiting for you to figure it out,” she winks.  

    It’s now that oblivious Chimney joins us with his adorable daughter perched on his hip, “Are we ready to head out?” Maddie and I nod so the four of us depart for the Grant-Nash residence. The entire way there I am contemplating just going home to avoid knowing and teasing looks from Maddie, Athena, Hen, and Karen all day but force myself to stay en-route because this has become a long-standing tradition. One Sunday a month, the whole fireteam, their significant others, and their children gather at Bobby and Athena’s for a good old fashioned family breakfast. I ponder if I’ll even survive this one as I pull into the drive way and put my car in park but am quickly dragged out of my safety zone by Athena’s waving hand at the front door.  

--- Buck’s POV --- 

    I realize I shouldn’t have drank so much last night as I roll off the couch with a loud thump. From the kitchen, Christopher and Eddie giggle before Eddie cheers, “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. Better get your ass up and get some Aspirin in you. Clean clothes on too or we’re gonna be late to family breakfast.” I groan but know he’s right. I swipe my phone off the coffee table before making my way to the kitchen for Aspirin and then to the bathroom to change clothes. I have a text from Eddie that reads, “Maybe just show her this since you can’t ever figure out how to tell her yourself,” attached is a video so I press play to listen as I change clothes. By the time the video ends, I have my hands pressed to the counter and am staring down at my phone in shock. Maybe Eddie’s right. Apparently drunk me has a talent for explaining how I feel that sober me does not.  

    I grab my phone and exit the bathroom to make my out of Eddie’s place, declaring as I pass him, “Don’t say a word.” Feeling his amused look on the back of my neck and a blush creep to my cheeks, “Stop it. Don’t give me that look either.” Soon, the three of us arrive at the Grant-Nash household and I have to elbow Eddie in the ribs when we see (Y/N) getting out of her car due to the grin on his face.  

--- Third Person POV --- 

    The breakfast goes along almost as it always does with lots of chit chat and laughter. The ladies send teasing looks toward (Y/N) when Eddie asks how their night went but (Y/N) ignores them and they simply say it was quite interesting and elaborate no further. Eddie saw the looks though and makes a mental note to ask Hen or Maddie about it later. Several times Eddie catches Buck glancing or staring at (Y/N) and shoots him a teasing grin over Christopher’s head. Buck brushes it off with a glare every time.   

    As mentioned, things aren’t quite the same as usual. As is normal, Bobby sits at the head of the table with Athena to his right followed by May, Harry, Denny, Karen, Hen, and (Y/N). To his left is Jee-Yun in a high chair followed by Chimney, Maddie, Eddie, Christopher, and Buck. Usually, Buck would playfully kick at (Y/N) under the table and she’d snatch food off his plate, mostly his fruit. They would get carried away in their own conversation and their fits of giggles and laughter would ring out over the other conversations happening but when anyone would look their way to question what is so funny they’d be too distracted to give an answer. Everyone always got a kick out of their playful behavior. However, today there is no playful kicks under the table or food snatched off of plates. The two can’t even look each other in the eye, too embarrassed by their confessions last night that the other has no idea about. Although, they do sneak glances toward each other when the other isn’t looking. When Christopher has Buck’s attention or Buck is arguing about how a call went with Chimney over three heads, (Y/N) watches him out of the corner of her eye but pretends to be focused on something else or collects a bite of food if he happens to look anywhere near her direction. When (Y/N) is watching Jee-Yun giggle as her father makes airplane noises circling a small bite of pancake toward her mouth or listening in on the conversation between Hen, Karen, and May, Buck admires her subtly over the rim of his coffee cup but as soon as (Y/N) returns her gaze to her plate or someone near him he too distracts himself with something else. This odd behavior does not go unnoticed by the other adults at the table or even Christopher who would normally be too busy giggling at the pair’s antics to eat.   

    The young boy also happens to be the first and only one to call the two out on the peculiarity of it all, “Buck? Why are you not kicking (Y/N)? And you haven’t stole any of his fruit,” he adds looking to her.   

    The adults all grin as Harry also chimes in, “Yeah, you guys have been quiet.”  

    May nudges her brother and shakes her head as their mother speaks up, “I think they just don’t feel too good today. Maybe they didn’t get enough sleep.” Christopher and Harry exchange a look that says they don’t believe that one bit but a different conversation is picked up by the adults to shift the attention off of the two.   

    (Y/N) risks a glance at Buck, wondering what his reaction is but he has also taken the same risk. The two lock eyes but quickly look away. In attempts to escape the situation and catch the breath that had been stolen by looking into his bright blue eyes (Y/N) excuses herself from the table saying her still bruised ribs are bothering her and she needs to stretch.   

    Once safely in a bathroom, (Y/N) stares at herself in the mirror trying to decipher what it was that she saw in his eyes. Buck always has shown exactly how he feels through his eyes but today she can’t quite make out what exactly that is. She sighs heavily just as someone knocks on the door.  

    Out in the dining room, Buck has excused himself as well giving no particular reason but the adults need not ask because they know exactly why. As soon as Buck is out of earshot, Eddie leans forward to look at all the ladies in turn before asking, “What exactly happened last night?” The women all look at each other seeming to silently debate about spilling the beans.   

    Chimney and Bobby look at each other as well before Bobby adds, “I would like to know as well but you seem to have something to share too.”  

    May giggles, “It’s like a Mexican standoff of exciting stories.”  

    Chimney retrieves a coin from his pocket, “Heads, Eddie is up first. Tails, one of you ladies are gonna have to spill.”  

    Everyone nods as Maddie looks down the hall, “Might want to be quick and quiet about it.”  

    Chimney flips the coin and it comes up tails so Maddie wiggles in her seat and props her elbows up on the table, placing her fingers together. She takes a dramatic pause despite her warning to hurry up before explaining, “(Y/N) got plastered last night and we now have video proof as confirmation that she has feelings for Buck.”  

    “I knew it!” May whispers excitedly.  

    Eddie lightly smacks Maddie on the arm, “You’re telling me they both confessed on the same night?” Everyone looks to Eddie in shock, “Yeah, he had a few drinks last night and apparently drunk Buck has an easier time with putting his feelings into words. I got it on video.”  

    Hen laughs, “A drunk mind speaks a sober heart.”  

    Everyone excitedly, yet still remaining quiet, cheers before Bobby settles them down, “Those videos stay with those who took them and we don’t mention this around them. Understood?” Everyone nods except Eddie and Hen who give Bobby a guilty look. He responds to their looks with one of suspicion, “What did you two do?” In unison the two videographers confess that they sent their video to the corresponding subject.  

    Hen adds, “I figured if she had the video, she could just show it to him when she’s ready.”   

    Eddie nods in agreement, “I literally told him it might be an easier way of telling her if he can’t find the words while sober.”  

    Bobby grins and shakes his head as Athena chimes in, “We’ll see. For now, let’s talk about something else so they’re not suspicious of us when they come back.”  

    Back in the bathroom, (Y/N) responds to the knock at the door, “Who is it?”  

    “It- it’s me,” comes Buck’s voice from the other side.  

    (Y/N) takes a deep breath before unlocking and opening the door to let him in. She hops up to take a seat on the counter as he enters and closes the door behind him. They both stare at their hands, nervously fidgeting with anything they can until they both speak at the same time, “I’m sorry, I’m just-” They stop, staring at each other with red all over their cheeks.  

    Normally, Buck would be a gentleman and let her go first but he just has to get this off his chest before he chickens out, “So, I got drunk last night. You know that saying drunk words are sober thoughts?” (Y/N) nods thinking back to the text Hen had sent with the video just this morning. Buck continues, “Well, Eddie caught my drunk words on video last night and well...” he pulls his phone out of his pocket, unlocks it and navigates to the video Eddie had sent before handing it to her, “Just watch it. Sober me 100% agrees with every word.” He looks at her with such sincerity on his face that it makes her heart skip a beat. The two sit in silence as she watches the video. Buck shifts nervously on his feet, scanning her face for her reaction and she smiles. His heart soars with hope that she feels the same way.   

    When the video ends, she hands his phone back to him before retrieving her own from her back pocket, unlocking it, navigating to her own video and then, “Drunk words are indeed sober thoughts and drunk me is pretty damn good at sharing things that sober me can’t. I too agree with every word she said,” she says, handing her phone to him. He watches with a massive grin on his face as one plasters itself on her’s as well. There’s not an ounce of fear or nervousness left in her after having seen his video. She thinks to herself that if she has the honor of marrying the man in front of her one day, it’s only right that Eddie be his Best Man and Hen be her Maid of Honor.  

    Once the video ends, Buck places her phone on the counter beside her and leans in close with a grin still on his face only now it has a slight hint of cockiness to it, “I guess the only thing to do now is ask you to be my girlfriend. So, will you?”  

    As he hooks his finger under her chin and lifts it to align their lips, the distance between them shrinks even more. He can feel her breath on his lips when she affirms, “Obviously,” so he glances down at her lips before looking into her eyes. She inches closer, encouraging him to close the distance, and he does. They share the same thought as the slow, love filled kiss takes place and that is, “I love you.” When they begrudgingly pull apart, and make eye contact, there’s no need to voice the thought as for one, their drunk selves already did but also, it’s seen in their eyes.  

    Buck pulls even further away before placing his hands on her hips. He leaves them there for a moment, observing her reaction and somewhat looking for a nudge to continue his movements. She tilts her head, “What?”  

    He says nothing at first, simply sliding his hands from her hips to place them on either side of the mirror on the wall behind her caging her in. He leans in close and brushes his nose against her’s, making her eyes flutter shut. When she opens them, he’s just barely retreated, tilted his head, and is grinning from ear to ear. Feigning forgetfulness he asks, “What was that you said you wanted to do? It was something to do with my arms. Maybe you could remind me?”  

    A mischievous grin with a hint of shyness to it replaces the look of curiosity on her face but is quickly replaced with a false sense of innocence as she lays her head over on his right arm. She stays there for a moment reveling in the eye contact between his now sultry eyes and her own wide eyed innocent ones before turning her head slightly to nuzzle her mouth and nose against his arm. A breath catches in Buck’s throat as she suddenly opens her mouth to lay her tongue against his bicep, slowly dragging it up before recoiling it back behind her teeth that she uses to nip softly against the skin covering the toned muscle. The sound that left his throat is one that she will remember for years to come and want to elicit from him again many times over. However, she simply lays her head back against his arm with a teasing look on her face, “We should get back out there before they come looking and find us in a scandalous situation.”  

    Buck huffs, knowing she’s right and stands up straight removing his hands from the wall to help her down from the counter. (Y/N) quite likes it when he lifts her by her waist to place her feet on the ground and has to stop herself from wondering what it would be like for him to toss her into bed as he takes her hand in his. He doesn’t exit the bathroom just yet but instead tugs her close, hooks his finger under her chin once more to whisper against her lips, “Fine, but you’re sitting in my lap to cover the scandalous situation you’ve caused in my pants.” She giggles and nods before opening the door herself and tugging him along behind her.   

    All eyes are on the two love birds as they reenter the dining room causing blushes to creep onto both of their faces and Buck to discretely scoot just a little closer behind her in hopes of hiding the aforementioned situation better. He takes his seat, promptly pulling her into his lap which makes everyone whoop and holler in excitement. Eddie passes Maddie a twenty-dollar bill which provokes a confused look from both (Y/N) and Buck.   

    Maddie grins triumphantly, “I bet that the videos would be exchanged today. Eddie didn’t think you guys had it in you.”   

    Eddie rolls his eyes as Athena calms everyone down, “You two didn’t… in the bathroom did you,” raising her eyebrows to insinuate naughtier acts than just exchanging videos. (Y/N) and Buck shake their head no immediately to which Athena replies, “Good.”  

    The conversation soon returns to things other than the new couple at the end of the table. (Y/N) has an arm around Buck’s shoulders playing with his hair while his arm is wrapped firmly around her waist. His other hand is placed on her knee, even though he wants it to be higher, and he leans in to whisper in her ear, “You’ll have something in you if we can ever sneak away. I just didn’t bend you over in there out of respect.” (Y/N) slaps his chest with her free hand but Buck simply returns his attention to the group around the table and includes himself in the conversation. Under her, (Y/N) can still feel the situation and knows he’s not joking. She has to fight to keep from imaging what all they could get up to today. 

Masterlist

More 911

[vanfleeter]

Come Back // JTK

Pairing: Jake x (f) reader Warnings: angst, smut, teasing, unprotected sex, oral, fingering, penetrative, swearing, 18+, please for love of all that is good minors DNI. Author's note: This happens to be my first smut that I've written so please bare with me, I have no idea what I'm doing.

The sunlight breaks through the drawn curtains in the bedroom. Feeling the warmth of the sun leaking over his back, Jake slowly stirs awake. He opens his eyes and looks at the clock on the nightstand. 9am. Rarely does he ever sleep in anymore. He lifts his head from the pillow and turns to look at… No one.. The bed is made up beside him.

Turning over in the bed, he crawls out from underneath the covers. He grabs his clothes from the floor. First he slips on his boxers and his jeans and then reaches for his shirt and slips it, leaving only the last few buttons done up. He looks back at the bed. It looks like it was never slept in.

Did you sleep somewhere else? What if you fell asleep on the couch again?

Then he remembered what happened last night.

“What is wrong with you?!” You scream at him. Tears pour down her cheeks. “How could you?!” “(Y/N), I swear it was a mistake. Please, please don’t do this.” He begs you. “I’m sorry.. I’m so sorry..”

You shake your head and try to walk past him but he grabs your arm preventing you from moving anymore. You turn your head to look at him. More tears threatening to fall. You clench your jaw and tear your eyes away from his. Pulling your arm out of his grip, you make your way over to the door and grab your wallet and your car keys.

“(Y/N), don’t go.” He says as he follows after you. ���Don’t do this to me, Jake.” You say as you unlock the front door. “I’ll do anything to keep you here. Please don’t go. I-I’m sorry..” His voice cracks as he utters his apology. “Sorry isn’t going to fix this..” You say as you pull open the door and leave.

Jake stands there watching the door as it closes behind you. He hears the car engine start outside. He slowly sits down on the stairs and buries his face in his knees as he violently sobs.

Now he knows why he slept in. He cried himself to sleep that night. You never came back home. He doesn’t even know if you ever will come back home.

Pulling open the door of the medicine cabinet, he reaches for the aspirin bottle and twists the lid. He dumps a couple pills into his hands and pops them into his mouth before downing a big gulp of water in hopes that his headache will go away.

Staggering out of the bathroom, he makes his way downstairs to the kitchen. Hearing cabinet doors opening and closing, his hopes grow a little higher.

Is it you? Did you come back?

Stepping around the corner and into the kitchen, he finds that his hopes are crushed when he finds his twin brother rummaging through the drawers. Coffee’s brewing in the pot while eggs sizzle on the stove. Josh pauses to look at his brother. His hair is a mess, his eyes bloodshot still from all of the drinking and the crying from the night before.

“You should shower.” Josh says. “You look god awful.”

Jake rolls his eyes and reaches for a mug in the cupboard to the right of the sink. He replaces the pot with his mug and lets the hot liquid fill halfway before switching it out again.

“Where do you keep the scissors?” Josh asks, changing the subject. “I can’t find them.”

Jake walks over to the drawer beneath the kitchen desk and pulls it open. He grabs the silver scissors and slides them across the island counter to Josh.

“Oh.. I hadn’t gotten there yet.” Josh grumbles. He picks up the scissors and cuts open a bag of cheese. “I fucked up ripping it open.. You’d think it’d be easier..”

Jake pulls open the fridge door and reaches for the milk before pouring it into his coffee. He staggers over to the kitchen table and sits down.

“How do you feel?” Josh asks as he pushes some of the cooked eggs onto two separate plates. “Considering I ruined my relationship and my girlfriend walked out on me?” Jake says. “Take a wild guess..”

Josh nods his head. He sets a couple pieces of bacon on the plates before carrying them to the table. Jake shakes his head when Josh sets one of the plates down in front of him.

“You have to eat, Jake.” Josh says. “You destroyed yourself last night. You’re not doing it today. Plus, the stimulation from the food will help with your hangover.” He slides a fork over and gives Jake a cheeky grin. Reluctantly, Jake takes the fork and stabs the eggs on his plate and takes a bite. “Happy?” Jake grumbles through a mouthful of food. Josh nods his head. “Very.”

As the boys finish breakfast, Josh takes their dishes to the sink and soaks them in warm water. Jake finishes off his coffee and dumps the mug into the water as well. “Seriously, go shower.” Josh says. “And brush your teeth. Your breath reeks.” He pushes his twin towards the staircase. “I better hear the water running.”

Getting upstairs to their bedroom, Jake strips out of his clothes again as he heads for the bathroom. As he lets the water run in the tub, he decides he’d rather soak in the bath. He plugs the tub and grabs the soap. The water suds up and he slowly sinks himself into the hot water. He winces as he sinks lower into the water. He rests his head against the edge of the tub and closes his eyes.

He doesn’t even realize how long he’s been in the tub until he hears the bathroom door open. He opens his eyes expecting to see his brother but instead he sees you. You stand there in the threshold and lean against the doorframe.

“Josh told you to take a shower.” You tell him.

He pulls his eyes away from you and closes them again before relaxing his body again. He listens to you shuffle around the bathroom. The water sloshes and he peeks through one eye to see you climbing into the tub.

“What are you doing?” He questions. “Sit up.” You say. “What?” “I said, sit up.” You order.

He does as he’s told and pushes himself up into a sitting position. You move closer to him and grab the washcloth off the edge of the tub. You sud it with soap and started to wash his chest and his shoulders.

“(Y/N), why are–” “Hush..” You shush him. “Lean back.”

He leans back against the edge of the tub. You reach under the water and lift one of his legs and start to wash it. You drag the washcloth up his calf to his knee and slowly move up his thigh. The suds already covering his cock slowly slip off. You bite your lip and move your eyes away. You look up at his face. His eyes are closed. You lower his leg back into the water before moving onto the other one. You catch him biting on his bottom lip as you move the washcloth over his abdomen. A smirk grows on your face as you slide your hand down his length. He flinches beneath your touch. He picks up his head and opens his eyes to look at you.

“Don’t mess with me..” He says. “I hate what happened last night.” You say as you keep moving your hand up and down his length. His hands grip tightly onto the white porcelain edges as his head falls back. “I just needed space to think..” You pull your hand away and he sighs in frustration. “If this is payback, I hate you.” “Aww.. Feelings mutual babe.” You say as you pick up the washcloth and hand it to him. “Wash me.” He huffs and pulls himself up in a sitting position. “Turn around.” He says twirling his index finger.

You turn in the water and he pulls you close to sit between his legs. The water sloshes lightly out of the tub and onto the floor. He takes the wash cloth and washes your back and your shoulders. He leans you back against his body and reaches around in front of you to wash your front half. His hands wash over your breasts. He purposely takes his time. He moves away from your breasts and washes your torso and abdomen. You lay your head back against his shoulder and he chuckles.

“You like that, don’t you?” He asks.

You nod your head as you close your eyes. Jake sets the washcloth to the side and leans back pulling you with him. He slips his hand under the water and slowly circles your center.

“Jake..” You moans. “Say it.” Jake says in your ear. “Say my name again.” He rubs you softly while picking up his pace. “Jake..” You moan again. Your arm flies up out of the water and rests in his hair. “Fuck.. Jake..” “I love you so much baby..” He says before pulling his hand away. “No..” You whine. “No, no, no.. Jakey, please.”

He chuckles and pushes her off of him. He slips out of the tub and grabs a towel to wrap around his waist. “Payback’s a bitch, huh?” He shoots you a smirk before leaving the bathroom.

Pulling the plug from the drain, you climb out of the tub and grab a towel to wrap around your own body. “You’re such an ass.” You say as you leave the bathroom. Jake chuckles as he sits on the bed. “Come here..” He says motioning you over. You walk over to the bed and he positions you between his legs.

“I love you.” He says as he slips his hands up beneath the towel that’s hugging your body. “I know what I did was horrible and inexcusable and I take full responsibility for my actions. I broke your trust but I fully intend to do whatever I have to regain it.” He gently lays you on the bed and hovers you. “And I’m going to start right now.”

He attaches his lips to your neck and leaves a trail of kisses down your throat and along your collarbone. He undoes the towel and lets it fall around you on the bed. He again leaves a trail of kisses down your chest to your stomach and stops at your pelvis. He gets down on his knees in front of the bed and spreads your legs.

He feels your hands curl into his hair and give his head a slight push to get him to move further down. He laughs and obliges to your movement. Without warning he dips his tongue inside of your folds earning a surprised gasp from you before you moan in satisfaction. His fingers dig in your hips, his nails leaving little crescent moon shapes in your skin.

“Jake..” You moan as you grip tighter onto his hair and push his face deeper into you. “Shit..”

He moves his eyes upwards to look at you as he keeps sucking you. Your back is arched. He knows you're almost there. He pulls away but immediately replaces his mouth with his fingers. He thrusts in his index and middle fingers. He hovers over you and brushes your hair away from your face. He traces your lips with his thumb as he continues thrusting his fingers in and out of you. He can feel your body shaking against his. You’re there.

“Come on baby..” He whispers lovingly into your ear. “You’re being so good for me..” “I’m..” You gasp, unable to finish your sentence as you hit your climax.

Your body shakes under his and he holds you tighter allowing you to ride it on his fingers. Feeling your release, he sighs and pulls his fingers out of you. He brings his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean before attaching his lips to yours. Once you come down from your high, you open your eyes to look at him.

“Fuck me please.” You whisper. “Please, please.” Your hands wander down to his towel and you pull it off of him. He smiles and kisses you once more. “I can do that.” He says.

He adjusts himself between your legs and slowly starts to grind against you. “Jacob Thomas Kiszka.” You say grabbing a fistful of his hair. “Don’t fucking tease me.” You growl through gritted teeth. He chuckles and reaches for your hand in his hair. You release your grip on his locks and he moves your hand away. “As you wish, m’lady.” He says in his faux English accent.

He grabs both of her hands and holds them above her head. You grind your hips against his body. “Was that Oliver coming out to say hello?” “Anything for you, love.” Jake plants a rough kiss before thrusting into you. “Shit..”

Your bodies move in sync, like a ship on the waves. Skin to skin, toe to toe, chest to chest.

His hand grips tightly around your own as he keeps them held up above your head. His knuckles turn white as his grip tightens. His other arm shakes under the weight of his body as he grows heavier and heavier but weaker and weaker as he gets closer.

“I’m almost there..” Jake lets out a guttural groan as he digs himself deeper.

He finally hits his climax the same time as you. His grip of your wrists loosen. He pulls out of you and rolls over onto the bed beside you. You prop yourself up onto your elbows and tilt your head to look at him. “You’ve never done that before.” You say.

He lifts his head to look at her. He reaches over to you and grabs you by the back of your neck and pulls you down for a kiss. “I don’t mess around, love.” He says when he pulls away. “I am Oliver fucking Reed.” You giggle and roll over to lay on his chest. “Well, Mr. Reed–you need to make an appearance more often. I’m sure Jakey won’t mind.” You say as you trace his jawline. “You should know that he loves you very much.” You nod your head. “I know he does.”

A smile spreads across Jake’s face. He throws his arm around your body and rolls over on top of you making you laugh. He smothers your face in kisses as your laugh rings in his ears. A sound like music. He buries his face in the crook of your neck.

“Please don’t ever leave me.” He says. You can feel his body start to shake then feel his tears touch your skin. “Hey..” You coo as you lift his head. “You made a mistake. The first slip up in the five years we’ve been together. I know you’re sorry, I can see it when you look at me. But I promise you, I will never leave you. I might need some space to get my bearings straight when we fight but I’ve come back, haven’t I?” Jake sadly nods his head. You give him a reassuring smile. “And besides.. I’m so much better looking than she is.” A laugh escapes Jake’s lips. He places a kiss on your lips. “I love you.” He says. You smile and kiss him back. “I love you too.”

A knock comes on the door.

“I swear my eyes are covered.” Comes Josh’s voice.

You gasp and quickly grab the sheets to cover your body.

“At least I knocked.” “What do you want?” Jake says as he slips under the covers to cover his bottom self. “I’m letting you know that I’m heading out, seeing that I’m not needed here anymore.” Josh says with his hand still covering his eyes. “Dude, you can uncover your eyes.” Jake grumbles. Josh slowly moves his hands and peeks through one open eye. “Oh good.” He says with an awkward chuckle. “I’m assuming everything is good here?” He says. “Need me to pick up any condoms.” Jake grabs one of the pillows off the bed and chucks it across the room. “Get the fuck out!” Jake snaps. Josh laughs and shakes his head. “I’m going, I’m going.” Josh says before leaving the bedroom doorway and disappearing down the hallway.

Jake sighs and slides down the bed to lay on his back. He lays his arm over his eyes and groans. “I hate him sometimes.” “Well..” You speak. “We did use the last condom the other night and we didn’t use one today..” She says, hoping he’ll catch on. “Oh fuck..” Jake groans. He quickly climbs out of bed and slips on his boxers. “Jo-o-osh!” He calls as he runs out of the room.

0 fim

[lifeofpriya]

"I love you." "Damn, that's crazy." from Established Relationship bc while reading though the prompts 1) this is so me and 2) it made me giggle alot lmao

bestie, i remember you wanting a pt. 2 of this fic, so pt. 2, i shall deliver 🫡🫶🏼

Will They, Won't They pt.2

wc: 3.2k

You shift slightly, trying to get comfortable, and Jack's arm tightens around you. His breathing remains steady, but you can feel the tension in his body, as if he's holding himself back. Or is it just your imagination playing tricks on you?

The night stretches on; the only interruptions are the occasional car passing by or the distant sound of a siren wailing. Each time you drift off, the noise jolts you back to reality, the coldness of the couch seeping into your bones. But Jack's warmth is a comfort, his heartbeat a constant reminder that you're not alone in the dark.

As the first light of dawn seeps through the blinds, you feel the beginnings of a headache. You've had enough of the couch, enough of the tension coiled around your spine. Carefully, you extricate yourself from Jack's grasp, his arm flopping to the couch cushion with a soft thud. You stand up, your legs wobbly from lack of use. The room seems to tilt, but you manage to stay upright.

Jack stirs, mumbling something incoherent. You look down at him, his face relaxed in sleep, the shadows playing across his features. The TV has switched to the news, the volume of which is a low murmur that seems too loud in the quiet room. You grab the remote and turn it off, the sudden silence feeling like a vacuum.

You tiptoe into the kitchen, the cold tiles biting at your socks. You pour yourself a glass of water, downing it in one go. Your throat feels like sandpaper, and your stomach turns at the thought of food. You glance at the clock on the microwave���4:30 AM. The night has stretched on longer than you ever intended, but somehow, you don't mind.

You lean against the kitchen counter, staring into the dark abyss of the sink. The quiet is deafening, the kind of quiet that makes you question every little sound. You hear Jack shift on the couch, and for a moment, you consider going back, sliding back into the warm cocoon of his arms. But you know you can't. The sun is rising, and with it, reality.

The fridge hums in the corner, a soft, steady reminder of the world outside. You grab the bottle of aspirin from the shelf above the microwave and shake two into your palm. The tap water is cold, a jolt to your senses as you swallow them down. You fill the glass again, the water's coolness a balm to your dry throat.

Jack's mumbling turns into a soft snore, the kind that makes you want to laugh but you refrain, not wanting to disturb him. You know he'll need the sleep. You take one last look at him, his disheveled form sprawled out on the couch, and for a brief moment, you consider curling up beside him. But you know it's time to go.

With quiet steps, you make your way to the door, sliding into your shoes. You pull on your jacket, the cold fabric jolting you back to reality. You're about to slip out when a sudden thought strikes you. You tiptoe back to the nightstand and scribble a note: "You're the best. Don't forget your practice. See you soon, - Your Designated Walking Service." You can't help but smirk as you place it next to the glass of water and painkillers.

As the door clicks shut behind you, the chilly morning air slaps you awake. The street is a ghost town, the only company the occasional flicker of a streetlight and the distant hum of early-morning traffic. You breathe in the crisp air, feeling a mix of exhilaration and dread. The night's events replay in your mind—the laughter, the quiet confessions, the unspoken moments.

You walk the familiar path home, each step echoing in the emptiness. The world feels eerie in its slumber, as if it's holding its breath, waiting for the sun to rise and shake it from its daze. Your thoughts swirl like leaves in a storm, torn between the comfort of Jack's embrace and the cold reality of what it might mean. You've been friends for so long, but now, the lines feel blurred. The air is thick with potential, a silent question hanging between you like the promise of rain on a humid day.

The buildings loom above, their shadows stretching long and dark, swallowing up the sidewalks. The streetlights cast a yellow glow, creating pockets of light in the sea of darkness. Each step takes you further from the warmth of Jack's apartment, but closer to the truth you've been avoiding.

You've always been the reliable one, the friend who's there to pick up the pieces when Jack's life shatters. But tonight was different. The intimacy, the way your bodies fit together on the couch, it felt like a puzzle piece slipping into place. The air was charged, a dance of unspoken words and lingering looks. You can't shake the feeling that something has shifted, that the friendship you've nurtured for so long has taken on a new dimension.

The walk home is a blur of streetlights and shadows, your mind racing with what-ifs and maybes. What if you had leaned in? Would it have changed everything? Would it have ruined the friendship you cherish so much? Or would it have been the start of something beautiful?

As the first hints of dawn kiss the horizon, painting the sky a soft pink, you find yourself standing in front of your own apartment building. The night has been a whirlwind of emotions, leaving you feeling both elated and exhausted. You fumble with your keys, the chill of the early morning seeping into your bones.

Once inside, the warmth of your apartment wraps around you like a warm blanket, a stark contrast to the cold outside. You sigh, kicking off your shoes, and make your way to the bathroom to wash the grime of the night off your face. The water is cold, but it's a necessary shock, waking you up entirely. You stare at your reflection in the mirror, the events of the night playing out behind your eyes like a silent film.

You brush your teeth, the minty taste a reminder of the night's decisions. You know you can't ignore what happened, the way Jack looked at you, the way his hand felt in yours. You tell yourself it was just the alcohol, the weariness of a long night, but deep down, you know it's more.

You stumble into your bedroom, the darkness a welcome embrace. You collapse onto your bed, the sheets cold against your skin, but it's not the cold that makes you shiver. It's the thought of Jack's arms, the warmth of his embrace. You burrow into your pillow, trying to recreate the feeling of his chest against yours.

The sun's first light filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. You're torn between the comfort of the bed and the need to face the day. But you know you can't stay here forever, lost in a world of what-ifs and maybes.

Jack. His name is a whisper in the back of your mind, a gentle nudge that keeps you from falling too deeply into the comforting oblivion of sleep. You roll over, the bed feeling eerily empty without his warmth beside you. You can't help but replay the moments from the night before—his hand in yours, the gentle brush of his thumb against your skin.

The sun has fully risen now, casting a warm glow across your apartment. The quiet hum of the city has replaced the silence of the early morning, and you know that soon, the day will demand your attention. But for now, you're stuck in the limbo between dreams and reality, your thoughts a tangled web of doubt and hope.

You finally force yourself out of bed, the cold floor a jolting reminder of the decisions you need to make. You throw open the curtains, letting the light flood the room, chasing away the shadows of the night. Your phone buzzes on the nightstand, and you see a text from Jack, a simple "Thank you for everything" with a heart emoji. Your stomach does a little flip, the warmth of his words bringing a smile to your face.

You decide to start the day with a run, hoping to clear your head. The cool air is a slap in the face, but it's exactly what you need. You lace up your shoes and hit the pavement, the rhythm of your feet a steady beat that helps organize your thoughts. You think about the comfort of Jack's arms, the way his hand felt in yours, the unspoken understanding that existed between you both. It's a feeling you can't shake, and as you run, it only grows stronger.

The city wakes up around you, the early morning joggers and dog-walkers giving you nods of silent camaraderie. The buildings look different in the light of day, the shadows of the night retreating before the sun's advancing rays. You follow your usual route, but your mind is miles away, lost in the labyrinth of emotions you've been navigating.

As you round the corner to the park, you see a figure in the distance, a lone soul sitting on a bench. It's Jack, his head in his hands, his athletic form hunched over. Even from afar, you can see the weight of his thoughts pressing down on him. You slow your pace, not quite ready to face the conversation that's inevitable.

Jack looks up, squinting in the sunlight. His eyes widen when he sees you, and he waves, his smile slightly wobbly. You jog over, feeling your heart race faster than your legs. "Hey," he says, his voice rough from sleep. "Couldn't sleep?"

You sit down next to him, breathing heavily. "Yeah, I thought a run would help." You look at him, his disheveled hair and tired eyes a stark contrast to the vibrant colors of the dawn. "What are you doing here?"

Jack shrugs, his smile growing slightly more genuine. "Couldn't sleep either. Thought some fresh air might do me good." He glances at you, his gaze lingering a beat too long. "I wanted to thank you again, you know, for last night. I don't know what I'd do without you."

The bench is cold against your back, the metal biting through your sweaty shirt. You look away, focusing on the horizon, the sun peeking over the buildings like a shy child. "You're welcome," you say, your voice softer than you intended.

Jack turns to you, the early morning light playing with the shadows on his face. "I mean it," he says, his voice earnest. "You're always there, no matter what."

You swallow hard, your pulse echoing in your ears. "Jack, last night was…" You trail off, searching for the right words. But there are none, no simple phrases that can encapsulate the tumult of feelings swirling inside you.

Jack's eyes are on you, hazel irises reflecting the burgeoning daylight. "It was intense," he finishes for you. His hand reaches over, brushing against yours, and the electricity that arcs between you feels more real than the concrete beneath you. "I don't know what happened, but I don't regret it."

You look at him, the world around you fading into a blur of color. "Neither do I," you admit, your voice barely a whisper. The sun's warmth seems to envelop the two of you, a silent third party to your conversation. The air between you feels charged, a storm brewing on the horizon of your friendship.

Jack sighs, his gaze never leaving yours. "I've been thinking," he starts, his voice tentative. "Maybe we should talk about it."

You nod, the gravity of his words sinking in. "Talk about what?" you ask, though you know exactly what he means.

Jack runs a hand through his hair, his eyes searching yours. "Everything." He pauses, then takes a deep breath. "I've had feelings for you for a while now. I didn't want to say anything, didn't want to mess things up. But last night… it was like all my walls came down."

Your heart skips a beat. Feelings? For you? You've never considered the possibility, always seeing Jack as the untouchable star, the charismatic tennis star, your best friend. But here he is, laying it all out, his vulnerability laid bare in the soft light of dawn.

"What are you saying, Jack?" you ask, the world around you seeming to hold its breath, waiting for his answer. The early morning air feels thick with anticipation, the chirping of birds the only sound piercing the silence.

Jack turns to you, his expression a tumult of emotions—fear, hope, and a raw vulnerability you've never seen before. "I'm saying," he starts, his voice low and earnest, "I love you."

The words hang in the air, heavy and potent. The world seems to tilt on its axis, and for a moment, everything is still. The distant sounds of the city, the rustling of leaves in the breeze—it's all background noise to the hammering of your heart. You blink, not quite sure you heard him right.

"Damn, that's crazy," you murmur, the words slipping out before you can think. You're not sure what to feel, a tornado of emotions swirling inside you. "Jack, I—"

Jack cuts you off with a shake of his head. "Just… let me get this out." He takes another deep breath, his hand reaching for yours again. "I've been trying to figure out how to say this for so long. I just… I need you to know."

You look down at your intertwined fingers, the warmth of his hand sending waves through your body. Love? From Jack? The revelation sends your mind reeling through a kaleidoscope of moments: the way his eyes light up when he wins a match, the gentle way he teases you, the countless nights spent sharing stories and laughs. Was this always there, hiding beneath the surface?

"Jack," you begin, the words thick in your throat. "I—"

He squeezes your hand, his eyes pleading with you to let him finish. You nod, biting your bottom lip, your heart a caged bird fluttering against your ribcage.

Jack continues, his words spilling out like water from a broken dam. "I know it's weird, and it's probably not what you want to hear, but I can't keep it in anymore. You're more than just a friend to me. You're… you're home. And I know that might not be what you feel, but I had to tell you. I can't go on pretending everything's the same."

You cut him off by leaning in and pressing your lips to his. The kiss is soft, tentative at first, but it quickly deepens, the heat of it burning away the chill of the morning. Jack's eyes widen in surprise before closing, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer. The bench is hard and cold, but all you feel is the warmth of his body, the beat of his heart matching your own.

The world around you fades away as you explore each other's mouths, the kiss a silent conversation of unspoken truths and hidden desires. The sun rises higher, casting a warm glow over the city, a perfect backdrop to this moment of revelation. It's as if the universe itself has paused to witness your confession.

Jack's arms tighten around you, his grip firm but gentle. The kiss lingers, a promise of more, a declaration of what could be. Your hearts hammer in unison, the sound echoing through the quiet morning like a secret only you two share. When you finally pull away, you're both breathless, eyes wide with wonder and fear.

"I… I didn't know," you murmur, your voice shaky. "Jack, I had no idea."

Jack's eyes search yours, the dawn light playing across his face, highlighting the worry etched into his features. "It's okay," he whispers. "I didn't either, not really. Not until…"

You nod, understanding in your gaze. "Not until last night."

Jack's smile is tentative. "Yeah, not until last night."

The air between you is charged, a live wire that crackles with potential. You're both poised on the edge of a cliff, unsure of what lies ahead. But for now, you're content to simply bask in the glow of this newfound understanding.

You lean back against the bench, Jack's arm slung over your shoulder, your legs intertwined. You watch the city wake up, the people below you oblivious to the monumental shift in your lives. The sun's rays grow stronger, casting a golden light on everything they touch. It's like the world has been painted anew, and you're seeing it all with fresh eyes.

Jack's hand rests on your thigh, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down your spine. You've sat on this bench a hundred times before, but it's never felt like this. It's like the air itself has changed, thick with the promise of something more.

You both sit in silence for a few moments, the weight of what's been said hanging between you like a delicate web. The world around you seems to be in slow motion, each moment stretching out like taffy pulled between two eager hands.

Jack breaks the silence, his voice a soft rumble. "So, where do we go from here?"

You look at him, his eyes searching yours, a tapestry of hope and doubt. "I don't know," you admit. "But I'm willing to figure it out."

Jack's smile is a warm embrace, melting the last remnants of the chilly morning. "Me too," he says, his voice filled with relief. "We've faced everything together. This is just… another chapter."

The park comes to life around you as the city wakes up. The scent of dew-kissed grass and blooming flowers fills the air, mingling with the faint aroma of coffee from nearby cafes. The sound of children's laughter drifts over from a distant playground, a sweet symphony that seems to underscore the delicate balance of your newfound relationship.

You both sit in contemplative silence, the unspoken words hanging in the air as thick as the morning mist. Your hearts are racing, but you're both acutely aware of the tenderness of this moment, the fragility of this new bond. The sun climbs higher in the sky, painting the clouds with streaks of pink and orange, a canvas of beauty that mirrors the emotions swirling within you.

Jack's thumb traces small circles on your skin, a gentle reassurance that he's there, that he's real. The warmth of his hand grounds you, reminding you of the tangible reality of your feelings. You lean your head against his shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It's a comforting sound, a reminder of the shared experiences that have brought you to this precipice.

You both know that the dynamics of your friendship have shifted, evolving into something more complex, more profound. It's both terrifying and exhilarating. You've been the rock for each other, the constant in a world of chaos. But now, there's a chance for something new, something that could either fortify or fracture the bond you've built over the years.

You sit there, the early morning air still carrying a hint of chill, wrapped in a shared warmth that's more than just physical. It's the warmth of understanding, of a secret shared, of a door that's been unlocked. You're no longer just friends; you're confidants, potential lovers, explorers charting unmapped territories of the heart.

[wheels-of-despair]

Enough | A Make Up Story | Tom Grant x You | Series Masterlist

Chapter 3: The Emptiest of Threats Words: 2k

You woke before Tom did the next morning.

Well, gave up on trying to sleep. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw her. And the redhead. Tom tossed and turned most of the night, but his snores indicated that at least one of you got a little sleep.

You crept out of bed and to the tiny bathroom, trying to avoid catching your own bloodshot eyes in the mirror, then wandered into the kitchen. With a glance toward the sleeping stranger you'd just shared a bed with, you begin pulling out the necessary ingredients for a Virgin Mary. Jade had drank herself into many a stupor, and claimed this was the only cure.

After making sure you didn't sleep alone in your car, entertaining you with banter and making you dinner, easing Tom's self-inflicted suffering was surely the least you could do. Once the drink was mixed, you stuck it in the fridge and waited for him to wake up.

You sat at the kitchen table and stared blankly out the window. Maybe this was exactly what you needed: To see that Jade would never belong to you. No matter how much you loved her, or how desperate you were to make her love you back… she was still Jade. She would never be satisfied just… being. She always needed to try something new, or go somewhere she'd never been before, or be with someone different. She would always get bored with you after a week or two.

You could tell yourself these things all day long, but that didn't make them hurt any less.

And poor Tom. Been with his girl for three years, he'd said, and she was under Jade's spell in a week. You couldn't blame the girl; it had happened to you too. There was something mystical about Jade, and you didn't think you'd ever understand it.

A groan from the bedroom interrupts your miserable thoughts. You turn your head and fight back a smile when you see him clutching his head with both hands. Time to let the Virgin Mary do the Lord's work.

You shake two aspirin from the fresh bottle you'd bought just for her into your hand and fetch the cup from the tiny fridge, padding quietly toward him. You fight your instinct to sit on the edge of the bed; it's how you delivered Jade her morning mix.

"Here," you offer, leaning over to offer him the cup from a safe distance. He unscrunches one eye.

"Wha's that?"

"Aspirin and a Virgin Mary."

"Don't want it."

"It'll make you feel better."

"Don't wanna feel better."

"Well I want you to, and since I could totally take you right now, you better sit up and drink this damn thing before I make you."

To your surprise, he listens. It was the emptiest of threats. He sits up, holds out his hands, and accepts your offerings. He pops the pills in his mouth, chugs the drink, and finishes with a dramatic gag. If you weren't so emotionally drained, you'd probably laugh at him.

"Go get cleaned up, I'll make you breakfast."

He mumbles something - the only thing you can make out is the word "bossy" - but he does get up and stumble his way toward the bathroom.

It's nearly lunchtime, so you have a repeat of last night's late dinner waiting for him when he comes back out. A few wet curls cling to his forehead from where he'd splashed water on his face. He sits across from you, and you share a silent meal. When you finish, neither of you moves to get up.

"What will you do now?" he asks.

"Go home, I guess," you shrug. "What about you?"

He sighs and looks down at his hands. "Dunno. Don't really wanna quit my job to avoid her, but like… if I have to see them together every day, I'm gonna have to go drown myself."

"Don't do that."

"Do what?" he asks, leaning back and crossing his arms.

"You know what." You mirror his position. A staring contest ensues, and he finally concedes by standing.

"You ready to go rescue your car?"

"Yeah."

"C'mon."

You grab your bag and walk to the door. He gestures to the grocery bag on the counter.

"Eat it, toss it, I don't care." Like you'd ever be able to eat any of her favorite things again. You step outside into the sunshine, ready to try leaving this place behind… again.

Tom follows you out the door. You walk side by side down the path toward the office, eyes constantly scanning around you, watching for them.

Miraculously, you make it to the office unnoticed, Tom grabs the keys, and you hop into the little truck without having to speak to anyone. The ride to your car is silent. You just want this to be over with. You'll probably even welcome the dazzling mediocrity of home after this ordeal.

"Can I help?" you ask when Tom stops behind your car.

"Nah, sit tight, I got it." He gets out and pulls a chain off the back of the truck, walks toward your car, and ducks out of sight. A minute later, he's back in the truck. He puts it in reverse and revs it, and although your little monster puts up a fight, it eventually gives in and pops back up out of the ditch and onto the road.

"Thank you," you tell Tom, genuinely grateful for everything he's done for you in the last 12 hours.

"Don't worry about it," he grins. He gets out to walk you to your car… where a dark trail of liquid leads from the front end to the piece of metal still in the ditch.

"Fuck me," you groan.

Tom blows his cheeks full of air and lets it out slowly. "Yeah, that's not good."

"You don't say," you deadpan.

"Calm down, I know a guy."

"A guy who works on weekends?" He scrunches his nose in a wince.

You close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose, letting out a long and exasperated breath until you hear the squealing brakes of an approaching car.

"Hey, mate!" Tom calls to the slowing vehicle. You stand awkwardly next to your car while he talks to the driver - a bearded twenty-something - and force a tense smile when he looks over at you. The guy pulls away a minute later, and Tom returns to your side with a smile.

"That's Kyle. He works with me. He's gonna call the auto shop for us and find out if someone can come get it today. If he can't reach anybody, he'll ask Kai to come help."

Great. Asking for help from Kai, the glare-y one. You close your eyes, lean your head back, and extend your arms.

"The fuck are you doing?"

"Waiting for a lightning strike to finish me off," you explain. "Right here, God! Let's just get this over with!"

Tom chuckles. "Come on, you're alright." He lightly slaps your open palm to get your attention, and you look at him with cynical eyes. He tilts his head toward the other side of the road and begins walking across. With a sigh of defeat, you follow him, climb the small rise, and sit next to him in the grass.

"You don't have to stay with me," you tell him quietly, absentmindedly playing with a fray on your jeans. "I'm sure you have better things to do. I'll wait for the guy, get him to take me into town, ride out the rest of my vacation in the cheapest motel I can find. Hopefully the junk bucket gets glued back together before I'm expected back at work."

"What do you do?"

"On paper, I'm an office aide. Which is workplace jargon for 'we're too cheap to hire separate secretaries, so you get to take orders from everyone'."

"You like it?"

"Nope."

"Why do you do it if you don't like it?"

"Does anybody actually like their job?"

"I do," he shrugs. "I know it's not like… what most people dream of. But I like it. I like fixing things. Stuff where you can see results. Give people a home away from home. And the hours are nice. I can take off to go surfing sometimes."

You smile at the almost dazed look on his face.

"My parents think I'm mad," he continues. "Should've worked harder in school, gone to uni, become something respectable they can brag about. But I like it here. Been coming here since I was a kid. Used to pitch a fit when it was time to leave. Wanted to stay here forever. That's why I asked Ru…"

Tom's face hardens. After a moment of unbearable silence, you can't help yourself.

"I think it's nice to know what you want. I envy you for that."

"You never wanted anything?" He picks a blade of grass and twists it in his fingers.

"All I ever wanted was Jade." It comes out so quietly, you think the wind may have blown it away.

Tom heaves a sigh and looks at you. "We're fuckin' pathetic, aren't we?"

You burst out laughing at the same time.

You spent the next hour talking nonstop about everything and nothing as you waited for help to arrive.

Tom was a great guy. He was smart, and funny, and without him, you would've spent this time spiraling further into your pit of despair. The discussion flowed easily from one topic to the next, not another awkward silence in sight. You suspected he was trying to keep himself from thinking about a certain someone as well, but you were grateful for the conversation and the company nonetheless.

You were wiping away tears of laughter and holding your aching sides over a story about his very first surfing lesson when the tow truck puttered to a stop in front of you.

The guy - Doug, he'd grunted when you introduced yourself - had your car hooked up and ready to go in minutes. You pick your bag up and turn to Tom.

"Well, Tom… whenever I think of the worst day of my life, I'll always think of you."

He grins.

"Really, though. Thank you for everything. It was nice to not be alone through… this." You can feel yourself welling up at the thought of the crushing reality you'd soon have to face, and try to blink away the tears. Doug gets back in his truck and slams his door. "I should go." You look at Tom fondly, trying to burn his kind face into your memory. "Bye, Tom." He's really not gonna say anything? Okay, Tom. You take a step toward the truck.

"What if you didn't?" he says in a rush.

You stop in your tracks, then slowly turn back to face him.

"What if I didn't what?"

"Go."

"Kinda have to, Tom." He shakes his head.

"Don't waste your money on a shitty motel. They're still charging summer rates. Stay with me. No charge. I'll take you to get your car when it's ready."

"Tom, you've already done too much for me, I couldn't possibly ask you for more."

"You didn't ask, I offered."

You hesitate.

"Stay," he says. The look in his eyes - almost pleading? - stabs you in the heart like a dagger. Is this what you looked like when you were silently begging Jade to keep you?

"Are you sure?"

He nods.

And after a moment of stunned silence, so do you.

"Thanks, mate," Tom says to Doug. "Just call the office and ask for me, yeah?"

The gruff man in the truck acknowledges the dismissal with a grunt, and drives off with your hunk of junk.

You both stand in the road and watch the truck until it turns a corner and putters out of sight, then turn to face each other.

"Well…" you both begin at the same time, laughing instead of continuing your sentences.

"Back to hell we go?" you joke.

"Guess so," he smiles.

You close your eyes and stick out your arms again. "Okay, God! If you're gonna do it, please do it before I have to pay the mechanic's bill!"

Tom laughs, grabbing your bag and pushing you toward his work truck. "Move it, drama queen."

"You love it," you grin, climbing into the cab.

Tom neither confirms nor denies this as he starts the truck with a smirk and begins the process of turning around.

[mythicalmisery]

Chapter 4: C4

October 25th

8:05 A.M.

Soap’s Flat

The morning sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. Soap groaned as he stretched out, senses overwhelmed by the pounding in his head and the dryness of his mouth. He reached for the glass of water on his bedside table he set out the night before and took a few slow sips. The cool liquid felt like a soothing balm against his throat. 

Soap turned as he felt Whisp’s small weight on the bed, heading toward his pillow before she curled up beside him. Her gentle purring was a comforting noise despite his headache. “Fuuuuck me, don’t drink Whisp. Not bloody worth it,” he murmured. She purred back in agreement. 

He lay there for a moment, letting the grogginess fade before finally swinging his legs over the side of the bed. His body protested the sudden movement. He pushed through the discomfort and padded his way to the kitchen. The sight of the empty Lucozade bottle on the counter brought a wave of nausea alongside some of Soap’s hazy memories in flashes. As his coffee brewed, Soap’s mind tried to drift back to his conversation with Ghost, cringing at the memory of him barely being able to walk out by himself near the end. He distantly remembers the terms of their agreement, though not quite confident in his account of events after they left the club. 

He slowly dragged his hands down his face, his mortification gratefully interrupted by the buzzing of his phone on the counter. Soap sent up a silent prayer of thanks to drunk him for remembering to plug in his phone when he got home last night, or technically that morning. He was relieved when he saw it was only Gaz texting him.

Gaz: Mate, you alive?

Soap: Barely 

What’s up?

Gaz: Just checking in, heard you had a rough night from a certain someone lol

Soap groaned as he read the words. Fantastic. Appreciate it Ghost, really. 

Soap: haha.

Fuck ye and yer psycho boss 

Gaz: Don’t be like that mate

           Tacos at Luna’s?

           If you're still alive by then

Soap: Sure

             12 alright?

Gaz: Yea that’s fine

Soap set his phone down on the counter and took a deep breath trying to shake off the lingering headache. He took a sip of still-too-hot coffee and nearly moaned out loud at the warmth. After scrolling on his phone for about half an hour, he rinsed out his mug and popped a few more aspirin. He still had a couple hours left before he needed to hop in the shower, settling on laying in bed to fill the time. 

— — — 

It didn’t take long for Gaz to find Soap in the outdoor seating area. Not many people were wearing sunglasses with their heads down, looking like death incarnate. 

Gaz sat down on the wood-splintered bench, laughing, clearly enjoying the miserable state his friend was in. “Look like you got fucked sideways, mate,” he teased. 

Soap groaned, glancing up at Gaz. “Aye, by three doubles of Scotch. She’s a real gentle lover,” he snarked back.

“What made you think that was a bright idea?” Gaz asked as he looked over the menu, a smile still plastered on his face. 

“Well, it was needed for dealin’ with that man,” Soap defended.

“Who, Ghost? Aw, come on, he isn’t that bad. As long as you don’t piss him off,” Gaz offered as he waved over the waitress. 

“Hi, can we get three of the crispy pork bellies and three of the barbecue carnitas with no coleslaw, please? Thanks.” He turned back to Soap as the waitress walked away. 

“Ye know it gets me goin’ when ye take charge like that.”

“Don’t try and change the subject with that mouth of yours,” Gaz smirked.

“Aye, well, I’m not sure how successful I was in that department. I think I may have called him Ghostie at one point.” Soap winced as his headache threatened to flare back up from Gaz’s obnoxiously loud laughter.

“Yeah, fuckin’ right. At best, you’d be pissin’ outta tube if you called him that.”

“Oi, I might have been sloshed, but even I couldn’t make that up.” 

Gaz laughed lightly as he looked at Soap’s earnest face. “Alright mate, Ghost must be going to therapy or something to let that slide.”

“Aye, I’m sure he’s one to talk out his feelings,” Soap quipped. 

Gaz’s face slowly fell into a more serious expression at Soap’s comment. “Look, I know he’s an asshole and a dangerous one at that, but he’s there for the people he cares about.”

Soap took in his friend’s words, though he wasn’t entirely convinced. “How did ye guys meet anyway?” 

Gaz leaned back with a sigh, searching for the right starting point. “It was maybe two or three years ago. I was working a security detail for some shady German businessman. A real piece of work, but I needed the money so I took the job anyway. I don’t know what happened, but one night everything just went to shite. His operation got compromised on his end, and we were under attack. Outnumbered and outgunned.”

Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by the arrival of their food. The waitress placed the plates in front of them with a smile and a not-so-subtle wink thrown at Gaz. Soap nearly rolled his eyes at the stupid grin plastered on his friend’s face as she walked away. Gaz shouted his thanks before turning back to Soap and his intense glare. 

“What?” he innocently asked. 

“Then what happened, loverboy?” Soap asked, trying to get back on topic.

“Then Ghost showed up,” Gaz continued. “He and his crew, they stormed the place. Took out my client’s men like they were nothing. I was trapped in the building's server room, tryin’ to salvage any sensitive data that I could when Ghost found me.”

Soap leaned in closer, ignoring the food in front of him. He wasn’t sure if it was the hangover or the casual way Gaz talked about Ghost murdering people that had his stomach in knots. “What did he do?”

Gaz’s eyes flickered with a mix of emotions Soap couldn’t read. “I honestly thought he was going to kill me. Instead, he just ignored me while he looked over my software with his gun trained on me. I like to think he was impressed with my work since I’m still breathing. After he downloaded everything he needed on a hard drive he finally turned his attention back on me and said, ‘You’re not worthy of my bullet.’” Soap couldn’t help but laugh at Gaz’s over-the-top, gruff Manchester accent that wasn’t too far off. 

“I think it was the prick’s twisted attempt at a compliment but then he offered me a choice; I could walk away and forget what happened, or I could work for him.”

“Wait, he would have just… let ye go?” Soap asked, incredulous. 

“I don’t know if he was lying but, there was something about him that reassured me I guess? So, I took his offer. Figured working for someone like him for a steady paycheck was better than ending up on the wrong side of a bullet elsewhere,” Gaz stated before biting into one of their tacos. 

Soap mulled over Gaz’s words, trying to see Ghost in a slightly different light. Apparently, the man had a habit of handing out resumes. Soap thought back on their first conversation in his office; Ghost wasn’t lying when he said he gives everyone a choice, as long as they make the decision he wants. “I still don’t like the fucker.”

Gaz chuckled, the serious mood lifting slightly. “He’s still a cold bastard, no doubt about that. But there’s a reason people like him end up where they do. He’s a survivor, and he helps those he deems are worth it. That’s enough for me.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m gonnae start trusting the man,” Soap said, taking a sip of water.

“And I wouldn’t expect you to,” Gaz replied. “Just… keep an open mind. He’s got his reasons, even if you don’t always see them or understand.” 

Soap nodded, still trying to wrap his head around everything. “Last question about the man. What exactly is it that ye guys do? I know it’s illegal shite, but what specifically?” Soap asked. 

Gaz leaned back in his chair at the question. “What happened to plausible deniability?”

Soap scowled at his friend’s annoyingly good memory. “Oh piss off, and just tell me.”

“Think of it this way: Ghost is like the concierge for Manchester’s less civilized population. You wanna set up shop, take out a rival player, or buy or sell drugs and weapons? You go through Ghost. He’s the mediator for all the other pieces of shite and the sole reason they haven’t all killed each other. Nothing happens in the North West without Ghost’s say-so,” Gaz explained. 

“So, he’s a glorified babysitter for Manchester’s criminal underworld?” Soap simplified, raising an eyebrow. 

Gaz huffed a laugh. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“But how the bloody hell has he not been caught yet? Or someone turnin’ him in?” Soap pressed. 

“Well, your boy here is good at his job,” Gaz said, gesturing to himself. “I make sure nothing traces back to him, digitally at least. All of his businesses are technically legal, and if they’re used for washing money, it’s never a large enough amount to get flagged. He doesn’t like to shite where he eats. And as for why no one’s turned him in, there’s a certain level of mutual destruction at play. Ghost doesn’t pick sides. The only reason his role works is because he stays neutral and everyone else respects that. That’s the beauty of it. Ghost holds all the power. His hands stay clean by knowing why everyone else's are dirty.”

Soap leaned back from the wooden table. He didn’t respond. Didn’t know how to, honestly. The casual revelation of Ghost’s ruthless efficiency and the intricate web of power he maintained was terrifying. Gaz just admitted to joining Ghost after witnessing him murder people and somehow it had him feeling like the crazy one for not being okay with it. He didn’t want to get into another argument over morality, especially not while nursing a hangover and in public. Soap also wasn’t in the position to cast judgment when he worked for Ghost now as well. He was already exhausted and somehow this conversation left him feeling even more drained. 

The two men ate their lunch in comfortable silence before Gaz interrupted. “Heard Rebecca was coming to town Friday. Need me to pick her up?”

“No it’s fine, was just gonnae borrow Price’s Rover,” Soap said, shoving the last bite of a taco into his mouth. He quickly chewed the oversized bite before speaking again. “Actually, can ye do me a favor and drop me off somewhere after this?” 

“Yeah, sure. Did you not drive here?” Gaz asked as he wiped his mouth and threw his crumpled napkin onto his now-empty plate. 

“No, took the tram. I left the bike at the parking deck across from Oak Tree last night. Wasn’t in the best state to be driving.”

“Wait, is that why Ghost texted Roach during our job?” Gaz asked. 

“Aye, but ye guys were busy, so Ghost ended up playin’ chauffeur despite my protests.”

Gaz threw his head back, laughing. “No way you had Ghost playing mother hen and taking care of your drunk arse.”

“He just dropped me off, ye wanker. Well… I did have him stop and get me some cat food and a drink on the way home,” Soap admitted. 

Gaz blinked at Soap. “Mate, I don’t think in fifty years I’d have the balls to ask Ghost to grab me some cat food.”

Soap smiled at that. “Ye know I don’t have a filter when I drink. I also take great pleasure in the fact that I annoyed the crap out o’ him last night.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he had a blast,” Gaz said as the waitress came by to set down the check. He handed her his card before she even took a step away. 

“I’ll be right back with that,” she said before walking away. Soap nearly smacked Gaz as he blatantly watched her. The man tended to fancy anything that walked on two legs.  

Soap finished cleaning up his area before she returned. She set down the check and Gaz’s card before giving him a million-dollar smile. “Thanks, darling,” Gaz offered. It was like Soap wasn’t even there. 

Soap groaned as Gaz waggled his eyebrows and waved the piece of paper with a phone number scribbled across it. “Oh, fuck off.”

— — — 

“One scratch or ding and you’re in the bottom of a lake in the countryside where no one will ever find you,” Price threatened, hovering the keys above Soap’s outstretched palm. 

“Yeah, yeah, I got it, Price,” Soap whined, rolling his eyes.

“You put the wrong petrol in it or return it with an empty tank, I’m shaving the mohawk,” Price continued, narrowing his eyes. 

“Well now yer just being cruel, old man,” Soap retorted with a smirk. 

Price grunted, finally dropping the keys into Soap’s waiting palm, albeit reluctantly.

Soap tossed the keys into the air before catching them with a childish grin. “No trust in me, I swear.” He walked over to the waiting Rover, hopping inside and giving Price a cheeky wave as he started the engine. Just to be a little prick, Soap peeled out of Price’s gravel driveway, the tires kicking up a spray of loose stones in his wake. He laughed as he saw Price, red-faced and cursing, in the rearview mirror. Worth it.

The Friday morning traffic wasn’t as bad as Soap had anticipated. With some time to spare, he swung by his favorite café for coffee. He got his usual dark roast with a little cream and one of Becs’ sugary drinks. He was extra cautious on his way to the train station, avoiding every pothole and bump in his path. God forbid he spilled something in Price’s car. 

He pulled the Rover into the decently busy lot, aiming for a more visible spot so he’d be easier to find in the sea of cars. With about fifteen minutes to kill before Becs’ train arrived from Leeds, he chose to pass the time by scrolling aimlessly through his phone. 

In his boredom, Soap couldn’t help his wandering thoughts about Ghost, despite his efforts not to. The lack of communication was gnawing at him. While it likely meant no one was dying, the anticipation was slowly driving him insane. Every ring or buzz from his phone had his heart stuttering, waiting for his own demented bat signal to spring into action. 

After this Sunday, Soap’s schedule was stacked: multiple twelve-hour shifts, two on-call night shifts, and he had to put in hours with a new clinic Price was heading. If Ghost needed him, they were both screwed. The thought just added a new layer of dread to his ever-growing anxiety. He tried his best to push it out of his mind. This weekend was for spending time with his sister and he wasn’t letting that prick ruin it for him. 

A flash of wild auburn hair caught Soap’s attention out of the corner of his eye. He hopped out of the car and practically ran to hug Becs, wrapping her up in his arms and nearly squeezing the life out of her. 

“Oh, I’ve missed ye, little mouse.”

“Let me fuckin’ breathe, ye brute. Yer gonnae pop my chebs squeezing that hard!” She wheezed out. 

Soap sat her down, laughing. He loved how strong his sister’s accent still was. It felt like home. After years of living in England, he had to admit his own had become watered down. His father was probably rolling in his grave, seeing his own son sound more and more like an Englishman each day. It did tend to slip out more when he was with his family or inebriated at least.

“How was the ride?” he asked. 

“It was fine until the old geezer next tae me decided tae take off his gutties and bless the cart wi’ his natural perfume. I swear it was worse than yer old rugby boots.”

Soap whistled as he reached down and grabbed Becs’ bags for her. “Must have been rough, then.” They walked over to the car, Soap placing her bags in the backseat before climbing back in himself. 

“Ye finally get rid o’ the motorcycle? Mum will be pleased,” Becs teased.

“Yeah, right. Ye can thank Price for not having to be my backpack for the weekend,” Soap responded. 

He started the car back up and handed Becs her drink. “Here, got ye one o’ yer coffee-flavored milkshake things.”

“It’s called a Frappuccino, ye old man,” Becs pointedly stated before taking a sip.

“I’m not even thirty yet and nothin’ with whipped cream on it should be considered coffee,” he argued as they pulled out onto the street. 

“Old man,” she sang as they headed to his flat. 

— — — 

“Whisp!” Becs shouted as she entered the flat, running inside as Soap trailed behind with her bags. 

“Nah, it’s fine, I got it,” he shouted back, kicking his door closed. 

“She’s still a wee thing, are ye sure yer feedin' her enough?” Becs asked as she nuzzled the kitten.

“Bloody hell, that’s all she does is eat. She should be obese by now,” Soap replied. 

“I’ve missed ye, Whispy. Is the old grump treatin' ye well?” she cooed in that obnoxious baby voice Soap would deny ever using himself. 

Soap scoffed as he grabbed a drink from his fridge. “She’s living it up like a king here for fuck’s sake. Ye think I’m dealing with yer wrath if she wasn’t?” 

Becs ignored Soap’s whining, all her attention on the white fur-ball currently climbing her shoulders. 

“Ye owe me a new pair of scrubs by the way. My pants look like a fuckin’ cheese grater thanks to her,” Soap grumbled, taking a sip of his drink. His attention suddenly shifted to the buzzing in his pocket. He pulled out his phone to see a message from Price asking if his car was okay. 

“Price is ridiculous, can’t even go two hours without checkin’ in on his car.” 

Becs set down Whisp before sitting at the counter and taking Soap’s drink from him. “What do ye expect? I wouldnae shite for a week if I knew ye were driving around in ma car.”

“I’m not a bad driver!” Soap defended. 

“Whatever. Am I gonnae see Price today?” Becs asked.

“Nah, we’re goin’ over to his for dinner on Sunday though. He might swing by the party Saturday, but I doubt it.”

“Speakin’ o’ the party, ah need tae go shopping for a costume. Since I’m yer date, should our outfits match?”

“We don’t have to match, don’t want anyone thinking yer my girlfriend.”

“Please, like anyone would believe I’m with yer old arse,” Becs snickered.

“Oi, I’m only twenty-seven! Stop actin’ like I’m a middle-aged hag with no prospects,” Soap retorted, snatching his drink back from her. 

“Go freshen up or whatever ye gotta do, and we’ll leave in like ten minutes. There’s a store downtown that sells old theater costumes I thought we could try,” Soap stated as he tossed his now empty bottle into the trash. 

“Alright,” Becs said as she hopped down from the stool and grabbed her bags. A gleeful, “Yer payin’ for it,” was tossed out as she entered the bathroom. 

God help me. 

— — — 

Soap stood in front of the vintage, floor-length mirror of the little shop with a grimace plastered on his face. “I look like fuckin’ Peppa Pig,” he muttered.

Becs nearly doubled over with laughter, ignoring the glare thrown her way by the elderly woman engrossed in her crossword behind the counter. 

“Aye, but a very handsome Peppa Pig,” she teased. 

Soap turned to face her, his expression a mix of annoyance and amusement. “Stop fuckin’ around and actually help me pick a real contender.” He grabbed the hat off the mannequin next to him and threw it at her after catching her mocking him in the mirror. “The party is tomorrow, and I have nothin'. Horangi banned sexy doctor costumes, so if I can’t find anything here, I’m screwed.”

Becs caught the hat and tossed it back with a smirk. “Fine, fine. Let me look around a bit,” she said, pushing herself off the velvet couch outside the changing rooms. 

Soap quickly removed the pink monstrosity Becs had jokingly suggested before heading down the aisle on the opposite end of the store. He idly sifted through the costumes hanging on one of many racks, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the sheer number of options. Farah had warned him not to wear anything too slutty when they were hashing out ideas. The bore. He could reign it in if he had to, especially with his sister as his plus one. But he didn’t want to look like a nun, particularly in case the new guy Brandon from radiology was going to attend. He and Farah had a going wager on which way the man swung. Soap swore the man just needed to see him in his kilt, he’d know for sure then despite Farah’s doubts.

As he continued to scroll through the costumes, he paused when his fingers brushed against a skeleton costume. The costume itself was beautiful, thick black velvet with thousands of beads embroidered and weaved into it to make out the bones. His mind instantly thought of Ghost, and he wasn’t exactly sure why. After staring at it some more, his fingers absentmindedly running over the beaded textures, he finally recalled why. That first night, when Ghost had been bleeding out on his dining table, he had been wearing a pair of black gloves with a skeleton design spread across each finger. Soap wasn’t even aware he noticed them until now, the chaos of that night pushing the observation to the back of his mind. He’d seen the man wear gloves since then, but never that pair again.

“What’re ye thinkin’ about?” Soap jumped as Becs interrupted his thoughts.

“Nothing, just scanning this rack,” Soap replied, hoping his voice sounded casual. He didn’t know why, but he felt guilty for thinking about Ghost as if he was doing something wrong. 

Becs raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further. “Alright, well, ah found a few. Want tae try them on?” she asked while holding up a handful of hangers.

They spent the next half hour trying on various costumes, each more ridiculous than the last. A rugged pirate costume that Soap had to admit, he didn’t look half bad in. An American football player costume that was just a little too bulky to move around in comfortably. A western cowboy get up that he couldn’t help but send a snap of to Farah. In the end, Soap finally settled on one that just happened to show a bit more skin than the others. 

“Of course, ye’d pick the one wi’ the most skin showin’,” Becs quipped, crossing her arms and smirking from her seat on the couch. 

“Don’t know what yer talkin’ about,” Soap played dumb, flashing a grin as he adjusted a strap on his chest. 

“Slag,” she teased, laughing. 

“Oi, It would be a crime not to show off these legs,” he replied. 

They gathered up their costumes, Becs having found hers pretty much as soon as they walked into the shop, and headed to the checkout counter. The old lady behind the desk gave them an unimpressed look. Soap felt a bit self-conscious under her scrutinizing gaze, like when he used to be scolded by the old women in his hometown church. Becs on the other hand just rolled her eyes and grabbed the bags off the counter.

They stepped out onto the sidewalk, the cool evening air hitting them. “Ready to grab some dinner?” Soap asked. 

“Aye, I’m starvin’. What’re ye in the mood for?” Becs asked, linking her arm through his. 

“How about that Italian place we had last time?” Soap suggested, already heading toward the car. 

“Sounds perfect,” Becs agreed, falling into step beside him. 

With just having missed rush hour, the drive to the restaurant was relatively short. They joked about the death stare the old bird had given them.  

“Ye think she’s alright? She looked ready tae keel over when ye tried on that last outfit,” Becs laughed, shaking her head.

“Ach, she’s probably seen worse.”

“I’ll pull around the block for parking,” Soap said as they neared the restaurant. 

As they pulled around the corner for Soap to drop her off, his heart skipped a beat when he spotted a familiar black Audi parked outside. Ghost’s Audi. Soap stared at it, trying to convince himself that it was just a coincidence. It could easily just be the exact make and model, it wasn’t an overly unique car to begin with. He was being ridiculous. Still, he couldn’t take the risk. Sure, Ghost probably already knew what his sister looked like, but Soap didn’t want any part in putting her near the man. 

“What’s wrong?” Becs asked, noticing his tense expression. 

“Nothing’. Just…. I changed my mind, there’s a really good diner near my apartment we can go to instead.”

Bec’s frowned. “Why? Yer the one who suggested Italian in the first place.”

“Yeah, I know, but it’s getting late and we should go somewhere closer to home since we have to feed Whisp soon,” Soap said, trying to keep his voice light. 

Becs studied him for a moment before nodding. “Fine, whatever. But yer buyin’ me dessert tae make up for this.”

“Deal,” Soap agreed, relief flooding him when she didn’t push any further. He backed the car up before pulling away from the restaurant. He couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched as he drove past the Audi. He was really starting to get annoyed at the constant paranoia ever since he met Ghost. The night was supposed to be about spending time with his sister, not dealing with the looming shadow of Ghost. Soap shook his head clear of those thoughts, trying to focus on enjoying the rest of his evening.

[emilyssky]

Chapter 5: Tell Me A Lie

PAIRING: Lee Know! X fem!reader

GENRE(S): college au, smut, angst

WARNINGS: Mentions of violence and abuse, depression, self harm, eating disorders etc.. mentions of blood, swearing, smoking, smut [ dirty talk, oral; giving and receiving, chocking, spanking, praising, degradation, pet names, sometimes Minho is a dick :)

SUMMARY: "Do you remember what you told me the first time we met?"  

"What?"

"You said; Always leave people a little better than you found them" he looked at the floor with a small smile for a few seconds and then his eyes found mine. "You really annoyed me when we first met. I envied your optimism and excitement for life. But each time I saw you, I felt a certain thrill. You made me angry, you made me laugh., you made me feel everything. Something about you made me feel a little more alive each time. I know I fucked up and I know I'm an asshole but I'm also brutally in love with you."    

Drinking and dancing my ass off; I missed that. Waking up with a headache and the taste of vomit in my mouth; I haven't missed that shit at all. The morning sunlight that's coming from my window immediately burns my eyes when I try to open them. I groan and turn around to bury my face in the pillows, but instead, I come face to face with Hyunjin's sleeping figure. I close my eyes trying to remember what happened last night and how we ended up home like this, but it's useless and my head is killing me. Hyunjin is snoring lightly, his blonde hair all over the pillow and he's wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants. I smile at how beautiful and peaceful he looks, his face is almost angelic. I slowly lift myself off the bed, trying my best not to wake him. Emma probably undressed me cause I'm currently wearing a pair of pajama shorts and an oversized t-shirt. I open the door as quietly as possible and tip-top out of the room and into the living room and kitchen area. I spot Felix asleep on the couch, a blanket covering his body and a pillow between his hands, and Emma over the stove, cooking something that smells like eggs and bacon.

"Good morning." My voice comes out huskier than I expected causing Emma to spin around.

"Well well well, look who's up." She flips the bacon and passes me a glass of water and an aspirin. I smile at her thoughtfulness before taking the aspirin and drinking the whole glass of water.

"What the fuck happened last night?" I run my hands over my face, trying to rub the sleep off of my eyes. I take a seat on the counter stalls.

"From where do I begin," She says and prepares 4 plates with some bacon and 2 eggs and leaves 2 of them on the counter and one in front of me. My stomach growls at the sight but as always, I ignore it. Emma takes a seat across from me and dives into her plate.

"Well," She swallows her first bite. "You were dancing with and on everyone, taking shots like you were drinking water, lost at beer pong twice, disappeared at some point until Jeongin found you at the roof." That I remember. Images of Minho and bits of our conversation flash through my mind. "You spilled vodka on Hyunjin and you were laughing like a kid the whole time." She adds.

"Ugh" I rest my head on the counter. "I haven't drunk like that in a hot minute. My body wasn't ready."

"At least you didn't throw up there." She pats my head. "You waited until we were home this time. I'm proud."

Hyunjin enters the kitchen, rubbing his hands all over his face. "My head is killing me." He says in a raspy voice. He takes a seat beside me and Emma pushes a plate in front of him along with a glass of water and an aspirin as well.

"Oh my god, thanks Em, you're an angel" He groans.

"See," She turns to me. "There's always worst."

"Where's Felix?" He asks, his mouth full.

"Sleeping." Emma nods her head towards the couch.

Hyunjin turns to look at him. "Why is he sleeping on the couch?" He frowns.

"Cause he said that now that I have a boyfriend, it's not right to sleep with me." She rolls her eyes.

"Boyfriend?" I smirk.

A light color appears on her cheeks. "You know what I mean." She mutters.

"Are you guys like, together?" Hyunjin ask.

"I don't know," Emma shrugs. "Last night we went upstairs and we talked again, like a lot" She emphasizes by slightly widening her eyes. "He told me that he really likes me and that he hasn't felt this type of connection in a long time and stuff like that. And then we hooked up."

"Get it Em." Hyunjin grins.

"Wow, he must actually like you." I say.

"You think?" She drops her eyes to her plate.

"Yeah," Hyunjin swallows the last piece of bacon, clearing his plate. "If he wasn't interested he would just fuck you and leave it at that." He drops his plate to the sink and sits back down. "I saw how you guys were. He was all over you from the minute we walked in till the minute we left."

"You've got a point." She finally says.

"What time is it?" Felix's deep voice makes our heads snap to the couch. He's up and walking towards us. His voice is incredibly deep in general, but especially in the morning, he sounds like fucking Darth Vader.

"Morning sunshine." Hyunjin grins at him.

"It's 12.30. " Emma says placing a plate and a glass of water in front of him as well. Felix takes a seat.

"My back hurts" He whines.

"Well, I told you to sleep with me" Emma argues but Felix just shakes his head.

"You could've slept with me and Hyunjin with Em." I say

"Exactly." Hyunjin nods. "I don't care that Em has a boyfriend now." He speaks the last words of the sentence a little louder.

"Shut up." She pushes him but he just laughs.

Felix's eyes are still swollen from sleep, his lips double the size, and his hair going in every direction. "Yeah, I didn't think of that."

"We have class today right?" I question

"Shit"

"Fuck me"

Both Felix and Hyunjin groan. "You guys should get going, then. And take a shower." Emma says

They both look at her and begin to smell their clothes, and I laugh.

"Well, I'm going to take a shower as well. I'll see you in class." I get up.

"Aren't you going to eat?" Hyunjin looks up at me.

I ignore the knowing look he's giving me ."I'm not hungry" I mumble and disappear down the hall.

I let out an audible sigh when the hot water hits my skin. All of my muscles are so sore from last night that our 3-hour technique class sounds torturous. I don't regret it though, I had fun. Actual fun with people, in a place where I don't have to look over my shoulder in case Jackson or one of his friends, is there. It felt nice, to be with a different crowd. I've only seen Chan's friends a few times but I can feel that they're going to grow on me. Minho takes over my mind, despite the effort that I've been putting in since last night, not to think about him. I don't know if I'm more shocked by his story or by the fact that he spoke to me about it. His honesty caught me by surprise. I didn't think that he would open up to me in that way, considering the fact that he's been nothing but ironic and bluntly rude towards me. Chan did say that he's been through a lot but I didn't really expect anything like that. The more I think about it, the more curious I feel myself getting about him. He seems like the type of guy that has a lot of layers. The type of guy that makes you wanna get invested and try to understand everything that is hidden underneath all the pain and trauma that he silently carries. I shake the thoughts off my head. I'm not trying to get myself in a complicated situation once again. I've done this back-and-forth thing and it didn't end well. I force myself not to annalize everything that happened last night anymore and ignore all the questions and thoughts about him, cause curiosity leads to interest and interest isn't good.

I gave up on trying to look better than I felt and got ready in 10 minutes by just putting my hair in a low bun and throwing a black leotard and tights on. Somehow Felix and Hyunjin manage to look alive again and ready for class in only 1 hour. They were dressed in their dance clothes with fresh-looking faces and their hair perfectly brushed backward. They were great dancers, the best in our year to be honest. Two completely different dancers. Felix is sharp. His arms and legs are strong, completing every move perfectly, and hitting every beat. He's balanced and clean with powerful and fast movements. Felix is a technical dancer. Hyunjin is a performer. He takes every choreography and owns it. His style and his incredible facial expressions make him stand out. No matter the dance genre, every move is filled with emotion and passion. He somehow manages to look so smooth yet so powerful at the same time. It's like he's playing a character every time he dances. He's sassy and sexy to the point that it's hard not to look at him when he steps on stage. These two together; they're perfection. I, like everyone, started with ballet. I've danced in almost every style, but contemporary is my favorite. When I dance I feel free. All of my emotions come rushing out of me and I can feel them leave my body as I dance. I relax and I can breathe. Dance has always been a comfort of mine, but it doesn't feel the same anymore. I don't dance for myself. It's not a way for me to let loose anymore. I have to be better. I knew I had to turn quicker, land lighter and smile brighter. Since I got into college, I had to learn control in order to get better. My feet had to be more pointed. my legs straighter, my waist smaller. I know that now I'm a great dancer with great technique. What I'm missing is passion. Energy. Emotion.  I'm missing all of the things I had before. I had to trade raw passion for technique. I was told that I had to calm down, and I did but now I feel like I've turned into a machine. Simply executing the moves, never performing.

"That's it for today, everyone. I'll see you all on Wednesday." Mrs. Miller claps her hands together and exits the class with a smile and a small nod. I let out a sigh and rest my hands on my knees to catch my breath. My body feels completely and utterly numb and I just wanna lay in my bed for the next 5 years. I walk to the side of the class to collect my bag and water bottle. Hyunjin catches up with me just as I'm about to exit the classroom.

"You look dead." He bluntly says, throwing his bag over his shoulder. I search over my shoulder for Felix, spotting him talking with a few of our classmates. He gives me a nod, meaning that we should leave without him, and I send a wave back before pulling Hyunjin by the elbow and walking out the door.

"You're so kind, thank you." I say with a straight face.

He grins and pulls me into a side hug. "You know what I mean. You look like you're going to pass out. What's going on?"

"We were out late last night, I didn't get enough sleep." I answer mechanically.

He sighs, almost like he's telling me that he knows better than to believe me. "It's not just sleep. It's drinking water and eating like a normal person. You're doing nothing out of the three." All the humor is now gone as his tone turns serious. "You're not going to make it to the end of the semester if you keep this up. You claim that you're not being the best you can be but how are expecting to do that if you don't take care of yourself?" He continues his lecture and even though I know he's right, hearing it for the 50th time won't change a thing. I'm trying. I really am. It's just harder than it seems. Developing a healthy relationship with food in an environment like this is hard.

"Hyunjin, I know. I'm trying." I keep my tone low.

"I know, babe, and I'm always here if you need anything but you have to push yourself a bit more yeah? Ask for help. Take a break. Try to help yourself in some way." He gazes down at me with worried eyes.

I close my eyes. This conversation is getting too much already. "Okay."

He opens the door with the hand that isn't wrapped around my shoulders. "Do you want me to drive you home?"

l shake my head. "It's fine, I'll walk."

"You sure?" He unlocks his car.

"Yeah." I bring my hands around his waist and give him a light squeeze. "Thanks for caring." It truly means so much to me, to know that I have people who actually give a damn about me.

He pressed a quick kiss to my forehead. "Always." And gets in his car.

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Minho's POV:

I fucked up. I fucked up big time. It was like something took over me and I couldn't shut the fuck up. She just came out of nowhere. Again. And she was drunk again and she was smiling too much. Again. I don't know how but self-control just flew out the window and before I could stop myself I spilled half of my fucking story to her. Maybe I find the fact that she's drunk every time appealing. People tend to be a lot less judgmental when they're drunk. And most importantly; they remember less. Either way, things are not going as planned. I stayed upstairs trying to avoid bumping into her and somehow she fucking found me. I don't like this. She shouldn't be here. I wasn't supposed to see her again. I've been feeling on edge for the past week now and it's honestly draining. Ignore. Ignore. Ignore. I have to ignore my thoughts. I have to ignore her. I thought it would be easy, I don't even know her. Why is it that I keep thinking about it?

I wipe the sweat that's dripping down the sides of my face with the back of my hand as I slam the door of the dance studio shut. I made sure that her class was finished until I came here, not really in the mood for a round 2. My whole body is sore and my heartbeat hasn't slowed down yet. I had missed this feeling so much. It's been only a few months since I started training again and I beat myself up for stopping every single day. It's what I love to do. A way for me to take a fucking breath.

I throw my bag in the back seat before driving off. It's so convenient that our apartment is so close to campus. A lot of times I would walk home, but driving really grew on me. I love it.

"Back already?" Jisung comes out of the kitchen just as I'm opening the front door.

"Don't you have class?" I throw my keys on the little table beside the door and remove my shoes.

"I skipped." He shrugs. "I have an essay to work on anyway."

I walk up the stairs. Jisung's following right behind me. "Shit, me too." I groan. I fucking hate college. All I wanna do is dance and make music. "Fuck it, I'll do it later, I need to sleep." I reach my bedroom door.

Jisung's eyes narrow. "Is everything okay?" He rests his hand on the wall besides my door.

I immediately turn my head away from his gaze. He knows me too well and I don't have time to talk about shit right now. "Yeah, I'm just tired." I open the door, hoping he will get the message.

He glances at me one more time before taking a step back. "Okay." He brushes my hair back. He always does this. I hated it at first but just like jisung, it grew on me. "Get some rest." He turns around and disappears down the hall. I let out a small sigh and close my door. I'm grateful for him. I really am. I don't know if I would be here right now if it wasn't for him. He basically saved me. A lot of people did. With their actions, with words, with ideas, or by simply being there. Jisung was there. He was there every time, picking up the pieces that he didn't create. Chan was there. He helped me open my eyes and pushed me to explore different sides of myself. He gave me a new dream. My sister was there, offering me a smile whenever the world frowned at me. Someone is always there. I'm tired of owning my life to others. I don't know how even though I grew up by myself and did everything on my own, I still somehow managed to hold on to people to keep me alive. Fuck, I'm tired.

I open my balcony door and step out. I place a cigarette between my lips and light it up, taking a puff. Inhale, exhale.

Inhale. Exhale.

Y/N's POV:

I love Christmas. I love everything about it. It's a family holiday though, so I never got to fully experience what it meant to have Christmas with your family. Things like exchanging gifts, having Christmas breakfast together, and celebrating the new year together didn't happen in my house. I still loved it though. The weather, the way everything was beautifully decorated, and just the wave of happiness that came with Christmas were enough for me. It's been the past few years that I've been actually celebrating Christmas with my Mom. Shit happened and things changed but me and her are now inseparable. She's all I have. She's always been more like a best friend, probably due to our small age gap. She suffered a lot, but her light never left. Her light, fun, and kind personality stayed even after years of pain. She came out stronger. I find myself wishing I was half as strong as she is.

"I'll be fine mom." I roll my eyes even though, I know she can't see me. I put her on speaker as I continued to write the essay I'd been working on before she called.

"I could come and stay with you for a few days, I'm sure Will won't mind" She presses.

"No Mom, go have fun with Will in London, I'm more than happy to stay here for Christmas. All of my friends will be here anyway, it's going to be super fun." I try to reassure her. It took my mom a long time to get back into dating after everything that happened but she was never one to give up on love. She's such a hopeless romantic that, even her traumatic past relationships didn't stop her from falling in love again. Will is a family friend and has been for years. He was by my mom's side through almost everything as a friend. A time came when me and my mom lived with him for a little while and that's when it clicked for them. He's a great guy and I couldn't be happier for her.

She let out a big sigh, and I almost laughed at how dramatic she was being. "Fine, but remember to text me at all times and call me first to wish me both 'Merry Christmas' and 'Happy New Year'."

It's the first time we're gonna spend the holiday apart. My mom is going to Will's house in London like we did last year for Christmas but this time, for some reason, I wanna experience this by myself. "Sure thing Mom" I laughed. She's not really happy about me staying here.

"Is Chan going to be there as well?" Even though I've only known Chan for almost 3 years, he's basically a part of my family. It took us a few months until we became inseparable and we went everywhere together. He met my whole family and spent every holiday with me. Chan doesn't really have a family. Not one that he was close with at least, so I think he found comfort in being with me and my mom. Plus, my mother absolutely loved him.

"Yes mom, don't worry. I have to go now, I need to study."

"Okay baby, I'll talk to you later. " She said before hanging up.

I love her and I love talking to her but I have so much work to do. I am a dance major but sometimes I forget that I actually have to study. I take a deep breath and a sip of my third coffee of the day getting ready to dive back into it.

A door slams.

Emma throws her bag to the floor and takes off her shoes. I give her a quick glance but I have to do a double-take when I notice her bloodshot eyes.

"What happened?" I shoot up from the couch and run towards her. She shakes her head and wraps her hands around me, burying her face in my neck. I immediately react, squeezing her tight.

"It's okay." I whisper, trying to calm her down. We stay like that for a minute, until Emma's breathing comes out normally and she's not shaking anymore. We take a seat on the couch.

"Is it Seungmin?" I finally ask. She shakes her head and relief fills my body. I wouldn't want to hurt one of Chan's friends but if he had pulled anything with her, I would've.

She wipes her nose with her sleeve and sighs. "I'm not okay. I've had 2 anxiety attacks today and I-I feel like I can't function. " Her words come out rushed and blended together and from that alone, I can understand just how everything in her head must be right now. Emma has really bad anxiety, it's one thing that we have in common. She's there for me and I'm there for her, cause we understand just how hard it is to deal with this on a daily basis. "I have to finish my script and I have a shit tone of scenes to film and everyone is asking me things and expecting me to be in charge of everything and I just can't. " She continues, ignoring the tears that fill her eyes. "Everyone's expecting me to be good but I feel like I can't do anything right. We were planning this shoot for days and I forgot my camera at Seungmin's house, that's why I left class. I just- I wanna breathe."

"Hey," I take her face between my hands. "Listen to me, I know that you have so much on your plate right now. I understand, but you can't neglect your mental health. Em, you're overworking yourself, reactions like this are expected when you never relax." I brush some of the hair that's sticking to her cheeks. "You stay here okay? Take some time to relax and calm down. I'll go over to Seungmin's place and grab the camera. You still have almost an hour until shooting right?" I check the time on my phone.

She nods. She takes a big breath and nods a few more times. "Thank you so much Y/n."

"You would have done the same for me. " I smile at her. "Actually, you have."

She giggles. . . . . I texted Jisung to see if he was home, on my way there but he still hasn't answered when I reach the door to their apartment.  When I offered to come and pick her camera up, the fact that Minho lives there as well didn't really cross my mind. As much as I don't want, I have been thinking about last night more than I should have. And I hate how my nerves begin to grow as I reach their door.

Jisung's face breaks into a smile the minute he opens the door. "Hey kid, what are you doing here?" He steps aside, gesturing me to come inside. Their apartment looks different in the daylight. A lot cleaner and much more bright. There's a big living area in the middle of the room with 2 big white couches and a few armchairs. Jisung leads me into the kitchen, that's right beside the living room. I really like their kitchen. It's open and huge, everything is black and white

"I came to pick up Emma's camera, I texted you but you didn't answer. " I take a seat on a stool.

"Oh yeah, sorry I was studying. " He nods, filling up a glass of water and passing it to me. "Damn, and I thought you missed me."

"Nah." I tease, taking the cup of water in my hands. "Are you alone?"

"No, Minho and Changbin are in their rooms." He leans on the counter, placing his elbows on it. "Did you have fun last night?"

I groan, throwing my head back. "Don't even get me started, I have the worst hangover."

"So you had fun." He smiles. "It sure looked like it yesterday."

I cover my face with my hands. "Oh, my god."

He reaches over and pulls my hands away. "Stop. You enjoyed yourself, that was the point." Last night's party was different than any other that we've been to and I did have a great time nevertheless. "This weekend it's game night."

"Game night?" For some reason, I don't like the sound of that.

"Yep." He nods. "We just get together, play games, and drink. It's pretty chill." He explains. Yeah, I definitely do not like the sound of that. "Of course, all of you guys are invited."

I let out a small smile. "We appreciate it." I say, avoiding giving him a straightforward answer.

"Just think about it."

I nod. "Okay, we'll see." Jisung's eyes focus on something behind me and I curiously turn around as well. Minho is walking towards the kitchen. My stomach instantly tightens at the sight. He wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants and I can't keep my eyes from falling down his exposed stomach. Fuck, he does work out. The lines of his abs look like their carved by the gods. I blink several times, forcing my eyes to his face. His head is hanging low as he rubs his eyes with his palms.

"Well, look who's up?" Jisung grins. Minho drops his hands from his face and his eyes immediately find mine. His walking slows down and his eyes freeze on my face for a few seconds. I stare back, searching for anything that will help me figure out how to act towards him after last night but he gives me nothing. The surprise lasted only a few seconds until it turned into nothing. He kept his face blank and completely unreadable as he walked past me and towards the fridge. "You slept for like 4 hours."

Minho scans the fridge with his eyes. "Yeah, I was too tired." He pulls out the milk. Jisung opens a cupboard and takes out some cereal and a bowl. "Thanks" Minho mumbles as he puts some cereal in the bowl and pours the milk over them. I try not to smile at the fact that he puts the cereal first. Thank god.

Jisung runs his hand through Minho's messy hair a few times, trying to push them backwards while Minho's gaze stays focused on mixing his cereal. Jisung gives Minho's hair one final push and places his hands back on the counter. He turns to look at me, realizing that I'm still here. I awkwardly smile as his eyes go from me to Minho and then back to me.

He clears his throat. "Y/n's here to pick up Emma's camera." Minho just nods a few times as he takes a spoonful of his cereal, keeping his eyes set on the counter in front of him. Jisung looks at me after a few seconds of silence, his lips in a thin line with a look in his eyes almost as if he's apologizing for Minho's behavior. I shrug, shaking my head.

"I invited them over for game night this weekend. " He continues. "Changbin will probably make his signature cocktails, you will love them." He turns to me and I force a small giggle, trying to appear unbothered by the fact that Minho's completely ignoring me right now.

I see his jaw tightening, momentarily. "Cool." He says still keeping his eyes glued to the counter, refusing to make any eye contact with me. I keep my face natural, solving all the questions I want to ask him down my throat. I decide to break the silence that has taken over the three of us.

"I'm down, sounds fun." I turn to Jisung, maintaining my tone light.

"You guys could sleep over afterwards. " He further suggests, getting more excited. "Most of you are going to get wasted anyway."  

Minho drops the now empty bowl in the sink, the sound making my and Jisung's head turn to him, but his face stays unbothered. "We don't have that much space."

Jisung rolls his eyes."Bullshit. Emma is probably gonna sleep with Seungmin so I'm sure that 3 people can sleep in this huge ass house" He waves his hands around.

"Yeah but-"

"We'll see" I cut Minho off, trying to end their small disagreement. His eyes look at mine for the first time since he got in the kitchen. The smallest shift is visible in his gaze, only for a few seconds until his eyes hardened, making me swallow hard but he breaks our eye contact with a sigh. I drop my eyes to my glass of water. What the fuck? This felt like he was just, backing down. He hasn't made a single comment, he hasn't referred to me not even once or acted in any teasing or bluntly rude way towards me. He's simply ignoring me.

I turn to Jisung. "Can you please bring me Em's camera? because I have to get going in a few."

"Yeah, sure thing babe." He nods understandably, realizing my discomfort but before he can take a single step, Minho walks past me and out of the kitchen, disappearing down the hallway.

I lock eyes with Jisung. An apologetic look on his face.

"He's not an asshole I swear." he shakes his head.

"Well, he's an asshole to me for some reason" I shrug.

"Don't mind him," He walks past me, brushing his hand on my shoulder. "I'll bring Emma's camera."

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I don't know how but I've managed to see Minho every day for the past 3 days. Tuesday night; I was leaving the dance studio, I was looking at my phone, texting Chan if he could pick me up cause I was exhausted when I felt my body bump into someone else. Minho simply looked at me before letting out a quite audible sigh and walking past me. Wednesday afternoon; me, Felix and Hyunjin went by their apartment to pick up Changbin cause we made plans to go for drinks. Minho was the one to open the door. He offered Hyunjin and Felix a pat on their shoulders, inviting them inside with a smile on his lips that dropped when they walked further into the living room. He turned around and followed them, leaving me by the door, not spearing me a single glance. Thursday morning; I went by the music building to say 'Hi' to Chan since I was early for my class. All of them were there, chilling on a few benches outside their classroom. Minho kept his eyes glued to his phone, as I chatted with the rest of the guys, not speaking a single word to me. Again.

This is getting ridiculous. I don't know what his problem is but the more we hang out with Chan's friends the more uncomfortable this is getting. He's literary giving me a headache and even though a huge part of me wants to confront him and simply ask him why is he acting this way, I force myself to remember one thing I had to learn the hard way; there's not always a reason for the way people treat you and you don't always get an apology or an explanation. Sometimes you just have to ignore it and move on. I shake my head, removing my headphones as I push the door of the dance studio open. My legs walk down the familiar path to the room that I always use as I keep my eyes on my phone, but the sound of music makes my head snap upwards. Almost all of the dance rooms have glass instead of walls, giving you a clear view inside of them. That's why I usually dance with the lights really low, I'm trying to avoid as much as possible drawing any attention to me since there are no blinds in most of the rooms. Through the glass, a male figure is visible. He has the lights really low too as he dances, with his back facing me. I take a step forward, narrowing my eyes in attempt to see his face but as he takes a turn I inhale sharply. He has to be doing this on purpose, there is no other explanation. He's suddenly everywhere, It's like I can't escape him. What is he doing here anyway? I've been using this room for a long time and have never seen him here. I feel a sudden heat in my stomach. Frustrated, I push the doors open. Minho stops at the sound and his eyes meet mine through the mirror. His brown hair is a mess and drops of sweat are falling from the sides of his forehead and down his neck. His white t-shirt is almost soaked, sticking to his toned chest, the outline of his abs slightly visible. His chest is rising and falling, quick breaths leaving his mouth as his wild eyes stare at me.

"What are you doing here? I've never seen you use this room" I spoke up first. He reaches for his phone, and turns off the music, before grabbing his water bottle, drowning almost half of it. He turned his back on me, ignoring me once again. I crossed my hands in front of my chest, my anger building.

"Are you gonna keep ignoring me? How old are you?" I say through my teeth, trying to stay calm. He drops his water bottle to the ground and takes a deep breath, still not looking up from the ground.

"Minho" The tone of my voice sounds demanding and a little pleading at the same time.  His dark eyes snap to mine and he looks like he wants to run. An unfamiliar wave of sadness rushes through me that quickly resolves into anger. I try to hold it in, but the more he looks at me like that, the weaker I get.

"What did I do?" I pathetically ask.

His eyes twitched with confusion. "What?" He says. I feel a little relieved by the fact that he actually talked to me and didn't just walk past me and out of the dance room.

"I must have done something for you to ignore me literally out of nowhere." I take a few steps towards him. I hate how I'm being right now but I can't stop the words from coming out. I want answers. "Tell me."

He finally turns around and quickly holds his hand up between us. My legs freeze. He holds my gaze, his eyes hard and dark looking in mine. I stare back. He stares hard. I stare harder.

"Fuck" He breaks. He starts pacing and running his hands through his hair.

Here we go again.

"Hey," I try to gain his attention but he keeps walking back and forth. For some reason, I'm beginning to get anxious. The way his acting right now is making me anxious. "Hey," I say again, a little louder. He lifts his head at my raised tone but keeps walking back and forth. His breathing is extra hard but he tries to cover it up, his fists clenching and unclenching. I take a few more careful steps towards him. "Relax" I soften my voice. "Talk to me"

"But I don't wanna talk to you, that's the problem." He almost yells, making me jump slightly. My legs immediately move backwards. He seems to notice, cause his eyes turn softer, only for a few seconds before anger takes over his whole face.

"Fuck" He yells again and turns around. I'm standing here, completely lost. What the fuck is going on with him? Why is there so much bottled-up anger towards me? The self-doubt and anxiety start creeping in once again, and I stare at his back, trying to put my thoughts in order. I'm once again putting myself in a position where I'm trying to understand someone who doesn't want to be understood. Where I care about things and people I shouldn't and where I'm building a situation in my mind to be bigger than it actually is. I don't know why I'm taking his dislike of me so seriously and I don't know why he's yelling but my body won't move. Somehow I can't bring myself to walk away right now cause for some reason I don't want it to be like this. Complicated things scare me and this is getting way too complicated. I don't want it to be complicated.

"Why don't you wanna talk to me? I don't understand-"

"You don't have to understand" He raises his tone even more. "What you have to do is leave me alone." He says, sounding almost pleading.

Leave him alone? I narrow my eyes at him. Does he think I'm some kind of stray that follows him around begging for his attention when he's the one picking unnecessary fights with me?  

"I'm not chasing you around dude." I defend, my anger coming back at his statement. "Chill out. We have mutual friends, and bumping into each other is inevitable. And besides, you're the one who's been picking a fight with me every chance he gets. You're the one that sticks his nose in someone else's business. You're the one opening up to me about your past." I move forward. "You're the one who's unreasonably ignoring a person who's done nothing wrong and you're the one yelling in my fucking face right now." My chest is burning with rage. He sure has some nerve to say that I'm the one following him around.

He stays quiet, probably cause he knows he's in the wrong. His jaw is set to the point where his lips have turned into a thin line. His eyes are shooting fire and yet, he says nothing. Again. I'm over-floating with frustration, my insides are literally screaming. "Is this about what happened at the party?" I find the courage to ask, eyeing him carefully.

By the way his face hardens, I know I'm right. He's facing me now, standing only about 2 meters away from me and looking at me like he's debating on what he's going to say.

"Do you want me to be honest?" His eyes challenge me.

"Yes," I breathe out. "Give me a truth, for once." I challenge back.

"I don't know what came over me that night. I don't do shit like that ever and I'm fucking mad at myself for spilling half of my fucking story to you." He waves his hand at me disgracefully. " Fuck I really don't know why I did that, it's embarrassing." He looks like he's talking mostly to himself at this point. "I just wanna forget about it, and you being in my fucking face all the goddamn time isn't helping" He takes a step towards me.

I'm going to actually hit him. "I'm not in your face all the time" I yell, unable to control my temper at this point.  "Like I said-"

"I don't care." He laughs and lifts his hands in the air, frustrated as well.

"Look, I don't really know what kind of personal issues you have, but stop making a situation more than it is. You opened up about some things and I did the same, what's the problem?" I run my hand through my hair, trying to bring the tones down but he's not having it.

"The problem is that I don't know you," He takes another step towards me, closing the gap between us slowly. "And frankly, I don't want to" He breathes out a laugh and I can feel my body stiffen. "The fact that we met a year ago or that I helped you escape your fucking ex doesn't mean we have any sort of connection." His tone drops lower with each word just like my heart. "Maybe I pitied you," He says, and I can tell that he knows that his words will cut through me like a knife, by the time it took for him to speak them. My stomach turns as I fight to keep the tears from filling my eyes. "Maybe I happened to be simply there." He's standing right in front of me and I stare at him, my hands turning into fists to my sides, wanting to scream at him but not a single word escapes my lips.

"What?" He raises his chin, looking down at me, with a small smile. "No more whining about me being rude without a reason?" he mocks, dropping his face to my eye level with his bottom lip pouting slightly and anger rushes through my whole body, hitting me like a train. Without thinking about it, I lift my right hand, slapping him across his face. The sound fills the room, followed by a few seconds of silence. Minho doesn't move an inch, his eyes are glued to the ground and his jaw is set as redness begins to appear on his left cheek. But I couldn't care less right now. I can feel my whole body boiling with anger.

"Fuck you. " I spit through my teeth "You're not gonna stand there and make me feel like shit about myself because you have your own personal fucking problems." Tears build up in my eyes but I don't let them fall. I turn around but before I manage to reach the door his hand grips my elbow tightly, forcing me to turn around. He backs me up and slams me against the glass besides the door. His eyes burn with fury as he towers over me, holding both of my wrists in his hands between our bodies. His sudden actions caught me by surprise and a gasp escaped my lips. Waves of emotions fill my body as I stare at him with wide eyes. Fear mixed with the tiniest hint of excitement overtakes my brain when he drops his face lower, our noses almost touching. Deep, sharp breaths go through his nose, his chest rising and falling.

"Don't do that." His voice drops lower than I've ever heard him speak, sending chills down my spine. I hold my breath, unable to look away from the intensity of his gaze. His eyes flicker to my lips and he rests his forehead against mine. My mind screamed. Unexpected, overwhelming emotions begin to spread through me like I'm falling under a spell. His body presses against mine, his scent is everywhere, and his perfect, heart-shaped, full lips right in front of me. I let my own eyes fall to them only for a second before looking back to his eyes only to find him staring at my lips as well. He lets out a breath and brings his face an inch closer to mine, our lips almost brushing. My heart started beating like a fucking drum.

"Fuck" He growls, closing his eyes.

"Minho.." I whisper and his eyes snap to mine. He releases a breath and pushes himself away from me, taking the heat of his body with him, leaving me completely frozen. He grabs his bag and before I have any time to say or do anything he's out of the room.

[justplainwhump]

Styling

Felix gets Ali a job opportunity at WRU.

Loosely aligned with the Pet Safety Series. Follows [Felix].

Content / warnings: BBU, an outsider being drawn into the system, reluctant(?) whumper pov. BBU-typical dubcon/noncon implied at the end; not explicit. Something more about WRU demo pets.

Ali had left early in the morning, after their first night. But on the kitchen counter, Felix had found a wrapped up sandwich, a bottle of water and an Aspirin. A phone number had been written all over the sandwich bag. Let me know if you liked it - A.

Smiling, Felix had texted him a photo of his lunch in the park behind the facility, careful not to reveal the location.

Ali had replied with a photo of a sandwich just like the one he'd made him, not hiding his work place, a luxury hair salon down town. Oh, look what I'm having! It's a match.

One thing led to the other, one night to the next, and to Felix' own surprise Ali grew into a constant in his life, the light touch of his kisses, the warmth of his body, the smell of his cooking, the sight of his dark eyes drinking him in in the morning.

*

"You don't actually sell cars, do you?"

It was one of the days where Ali worked an afternoon shift, while Felix had to get ready in the morning. With one leg in the dress pants, Felix paused and turned towards Ali.

"Does it matter?"

"Depends." Ali stared at him, hesitating. "Is it people?"

"Depends," Felix replied. "Some would say so. It's a matter of definition, really." He pulled the pants over his other leg and zipped them close. A part of him was getting ready to run and not see Ali again. Would be a shame, really. He'd started to like him. "They were people once. They signed up for it though."

"Pets." Ali stated it without judgement, only mild curiosity. "You're selling pets. You work for WRU?"

"Mh." Felix met Ali's gaze. "Does it... change things?"

Ali squinted, lost in thought for a moment, before he shook his head. "You think it should?"

"I've had dates who got judgmental." Felix shrugged. "It's a pretty controversial business."

"We do have pets in the salon sometimes." Ali pushed himself up in the bed. "A handful of our clients own Guards or Romantics. They bring them in, too, and we style them. I don't judge." He picked up Felix shirt and tossed it to him. "I do judge you for lying to me."

"I would've told you," Felix said, catching the shirt, heart racing at the boldness of his next suggestion. "In fact, Ali, I think I might have a job for you."

***

Ali Beheshti was and had always been a cautious man. His parents had been refugees, and a lot of their mannerisms and fears had been passed down to him. Don't trust the system. Don't trust people who pretend to know what's good for you. Stick to your own business. Always know a way out.

The first time the gates of a WRU facility slid open for him and then closed behind you with a small hiss, he wondered how Felix Kane had made him so readily betray this very part of himself.

Then Felix jogged up to him with that easy smile of his that could light up an entire room, and Ali forbid his thoughts to venture further down that route.

"So glad that you could make it! Big day today. Important client, some heartbroken youtuber who's been talked into a bet that not even a WRU pet could make him not think about his ex. However this trial ends, our products will be on thousands of screens, and I want them to look great."

Ali slapped the large trolley that held his equipment, swallowing down the unease roiling in his stomach. "I've got my red carpet set with me. I can make them camera ready."

They stepped into an elevator, and Felix pressed a kiss on the side of Ali's neck. "You're a saviour."

"Thank me later." Ali gently pushed Felix away. "This is a professional call, remember?"

"Sure." Felix grinned and swiped his id over the keypad. "I will thank you alright, love."

Ali eyed the keypad. Designed to make sure nobody could get in without a permission. Or out. "These pets," he said. "They signed up for this, right?"

"'Course they did." Felix raised an eyebrow. "They all do. Otherwise it would be illegal, wouldn't it? The ones you're going to meet - our demo pets - they have heartbreaking pasts. They're so much better off with us than they've been before. WRU saved them."

"Then why does the security look like a prison?"

Felix didn't miss a beat. "Maybe it rather looks like bank? They're worth a lot. Them and us put a lot of effort into training them to be at their best. People want to steal them. Others want to liberate them. Idiots, really. Our pets don't want to be liberated." He cast Ali a warm smile. "They're very obedient. You're safe. You don't need to worry."

"I, um. Never mind." He had not worried about that. He was too sceptical, probably. Definitely. Right? His parents had just messed him up with their fear of evil governments and imprisonment. "I... Why don't give me a quick run down already? How many are there, what styles do you want? A story you want their looks to tell?"

There were eight in Felix' responsibilty, Ali learned, eight of the so-called Romantics, various genders, various ethnical backgrounds, various stories to tell. The girl next door, the buff teddy bear, the quiet enigma, the dirty little secret, the soft dreamer, the confident performer, the spoiled princess, the devoted servant. Ali didn't dare ask, how the roles were assigned. How the people they'd been before were moulded into these shapes. It all had happened before. They signed up for it. Felix just did the sales part. And Ali just styled them. It wasn't as if his real life clients didn't come to him with stories just like these as well. Just yesterday one of hie regulars had requested to be styled like "Sin itself". This was just another job, one that challenged him in the best ways, one that paid extraordinilarily well - and one that would do a favor to the man he'd love to call his boyfriend some day. A great chance, that's what this was. Nothing less, nothing more.

Felix introduced him to the pets, one by one. They weren't supposed to be in the room together, he explained, only with clients present. Having them bond, to influence each other, would mess with their carefully calibrated training. Ali didn't try to understand that; these intricacies of Felix' job didn't need to bother him.

All of the pets that sat down in the chair in front of him shared an extraordinary beauty. All shared a quiet obedience, and the same set of mannerisms. And all of them flirted with Felix, who just replied with a generous smile. This was the one thing that did bother Ali. But then again, when Felix looked away from them, and at Ali, to give some quiet pointers at what to do, Felix' smile shifted into another one, a more private, cheeky, honest one. These were pets. Ali was a person. It wasn't the same.

"That's Noor," Felix said, when he brought over the last one, a slim man with long black hair an almost ethereal elegance to his movements. He was pierced in his lip and eyebrow, and as easily to see through his fishnet top, also elsewhere on his body. Ali found himself wonder, if that was all of it. Then, if that was exactly what he was meant to wonder about. He inhaled softly, counted to ten, hoping to banish the faint blush creeping up in his cheeks. Or the thought, of how well Felix would know the answer to that.

"Good morning, Mister Ali," Noor said softly.

"Noor?" Ali raised a brow. "A Persian name?"

"He got here right after I met you." Felix smiled. "Couldn't stop thinking about you. So I named him in your honor."

"That's-" Ali frowned. Creepy, a part of his mind whispered. Sweet, another part insisted. "Special," he settled.

Noor slid into the chair in front of him, gaze cast down, not meeting Ali's in the mirror. What had Felix said in that first night? About one of his so called "cars"? Totalled, by a client. Had to be replaced. Noor must've been the replacement. How long would he make it, then? How long the others? Ali swallowed, reached for Noor's long hair instead, letting his hands run through them carefully. It was beautiful, smooth and heavy and soothing. Could need a little more conditioner, maybe. Better care for the tips.

"Noor's the dirty little secret," Felix said, almost affectionate. "I want his hair open, shining, but in a way that makes you want to grab it, pull him around by it, you know?"

Ali wasn't sure if it was the request that made him shiver, or the way he exactly knew the feeling Felix described.

"I do", he said, his voice cracking a little. "I can do that. I'll wash his hair first, add a little treatment."

Felix nodded. "He's been good. You can be gentle."

He'd been like that before, too. Advised Ali, on how gentle to be, as if the hair styling was a part of a regimen of rewards and punishment.

Ali had mostly ignored it. He was always gentle. It would make him a horrible hairdresser, not to take care of the people- humans- beings, in the chair in front of him.

"Sure," he said anyways, and gestured Noor over to the washing basin. He checked the water temperature himself - he'd learned already at pet number three, that they'd say the temperature was fine with perfectly content smiles and soft voices, regardless if it was scalding or freezing. "You good?", he asked, still, mostly from habit.

Noor hummed in reply, a soft, peaceful noise, as Ali gently started massaging his scalp under the warm water.

Ali looked up at Felix, leaning in the door with his arms crossed, watching them with a soft smile. "He's enjoying it," he observed. "I'd love to switch places."

"Later," Ali said.

Noor's shoulders seemed to relax, his breath slowing, as Ali's fingers deftly worked his temples. He wondered quietly, how often the pets received something like that. A reward like that. And what it was for. What being good might encompass.

"You look good together," Felix said. "My favorite pet. And my... favorite person."

"Shush", Ali hissed, unable to hide the blush in his cheeks. "We're working."

"He's asleep." Felix nodded at Noor. "You're doing wonders on him. And it's good. He needs to relax anyway. I'm not meant to do favorites of course, but he is the best of them. I bet he'll be chosen today."

"Quiet," Ali muttered. His favorite person. He hadn't expected how nervous these words would made him feel. "I can't focus."

"I find it hard, too." Felix winked. "I'll think about this picture all day."

Ali reached for the conditioner and decidedly stared down onto Noor's beautiful, ink black hair, determined not to let Felix' words overwhelm him.

Thankfully, Felix did vanish shortly after, probably doing whatever else he needed to prepare for the evening, and Ali could focus on his job.

Felix returned, just as Ali finished blow drying Noor's hair. The pet looked stunning - of course he did. Ali was good at his job, after all. He worked out some strands, artfully twisting them, before he spun the chair towards Felix. "What do you think?"

"Stunning," Felix said, gaze more on Ali than on his model. "There's just something missing, for that freshly fucked look I was going for."

Ali frowned, ready to lash out against that criticism, but Felix was faster, looking at Noor now.

"Noor, dear, do you like what my friend did?"

"Yes, Felix." For the first time, Noor did look up at Ali in the mirror, a shy smile dancing on his pierced lip. "He was very nice."

"I think so, too. And I think you should thank him properly, don't you?"

Noor nodded, and before Ali could properly react to the innuendo, even make sense of what he wanted, his mind lost somewhere between Noor's smile and Felix' voice, the pet swung himself over the chairs armrest and dropped on his knees in front of Ali, looking up at him from deep brown eyes. His teeth played with the piercing in his lower lip, and there was a small dimple in one cheek, when he smiled.

Ali was dizzy. "I-- I don't think-"

"I can't tip you as you deserve, this is a company invoice after all," Felix said. "But I - we - can make you feel good anyway. Believe me. Noor will blow your mind." He smirked. "Literally."

"I- I styled his hair, but-" Ali wanted this. He didn't want it. His pants were awfully tight suddenly, his mind blank. Fuck. He should've been prepared, right? Had he been? Did he want this? He wondered how that piercing would feel.

"I respect if you don't want it, of course, I do, I just thought..." Felix voice was soft. "My boyfriend deserves some relaxation, too."

There was a soft touch between his legs, a hand moving over to his zipper. Ali didn't fight it. Boyfriend. Felix called him his boyfriend. And he wanted him to feel good. Noor wanted it, too. And fuck, if Ali's body wasn't craving it as well.

Felix smiled and stepped in.

"Boyfriend, huh?" Ali asked, huskily, as he felt his pants pulled down, and soft lips wander down his hips.

"If you want to be?"

Ali nodded, unable to speak, and Felix's lips found his just in time for Felix' mouth to absorb the little whimper escaping him when Noor took him in.

"I love you," Felix breathed into their kiss, and whatever Ali's treachereous mind had been whispering was blown away entirely.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Please tell us about all the 1920s research you did? 🥺

So much. From what appliances were in use to looking at different museums online exhibits on houses. I looked into how the conversion to electricity worked (Commercial buildings and the upper class went first because of money) and then the further out from city center or the poorer you were the longer it took. I looked at so many images of what bathrooms and kitchens looked like back then.

AND THEN! we took a wild detour left into pharmaceuticals. And the history of Aspirin. And then when did Aspirin start getting pressed into a tablet instead of being a powder one would mix with water? What other over the counter pain killers were in use?

OH AND THEN! Narcotics! Opiates and their use and distribution. And what prescriptions were like back then. AND PHARMACIES!

then we got deeper into plotting. And we hit on divorce law and adultery laws- tripped over the title of the fic, picked that up and kept going.