#when she needed to feel close to his dad again

[itneverendshere]

little miss perfect - r.c - (+18) - mommy issues?

pairing: siren!reader x rafe warnings: smut.

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The suitcase hit the stairs with a thud as Rafe stood at the top of the landing, arms crossed, brow tight. His jaw has been aching since breakfast. Since the moment his dad casually dropped a bomb between bites of toast:

“We’re heading to the Bahamas. Two weeks at least. Business.”

Now Wheezie is uggling some pink monstrosity down the hall while Rose barks about sunscreen, and Ward’s checking his goddamn watch like his jet is about to leave without him.

Ward’s office door clicks shut behind him with finality.

Rafe’s already pacing.

“This is a joke, right?”

Ward doesn’t look up from the papers he’s signing, perched behind that over-polished desk, acting like he’s running a board meeting instead of ruining his son’s life.

“You’re seriously leaving me here?” Rafe demands, arms flung out. “Alone?”

“You’re not alone,” Ward says flatly.

“You’re leaving Sarah with her boyfriend and his feral-ass family, Rose and Wheezie are flying out with you—”

Ward looks up. “You’re staying here.”

“With her?” Rafe spits the word like it’s poison. “You’re leaving me in this house with her?”

Ward drops the pen. 

“Rafe. Grow up.”

“She’s fucking—” He snaps but cut himself off before he says insane. Because that’s too honest.

Ward stands, his voice calm and curt. 

“You want me to treat you like an adult? Act like one.”

Rafe’s laugh is dry. 

“You’re punishing me. This is a punishment.”

Ward leans over the desk, pointing a finger.

“I know what you’ve been doing. Sneaking out, drinking till 4 a.m., that whole mess last week with the sheriff’s kid—”

“That wasn’t even—”

“I don’t care, Rafe.” Ward sits back again, “You’re staying here. And she’s staying too. Maybe you’ll learn something from her.”

“Are you—?”

“Responsibility. Restraint. Maybe even self-respect.”

Self-respect?  Is he serious? Last he checked, you’re always, always hitting on him. 

Rafe made a choking noise in the back of his throat. 

“She’s going to teach me self-respect?”

“At least she handles herself. I trust her.”

Rafe stands there, stunned, while his father turns back to his papers. 

“If anything happens, you’ll answer to me. That clear? Her dad’s trusting me.”

Rafe opens his mouth and closes it like a fish. The worst part, the part that’s making his stomach flip, isn’t the subtle insult. It’s that tiny, festering voice in the back of his head reminding him, Ward trusts you. Everyone does.

You’re the fucking liability.

His breath can’t get out fast enough, trapped somewhere in his gut, fighting for a way to explode. His whole body itches with the rage that didn’t settle in his chest; it nested there, built a fucking home, laid eggs.

He storms out of the office, the door slamming so hard the frame rattles. He doesn’t give a fuck, let them hear it, let the whole island hear it. Goddamn jet engines couldn’t drown this out.

You. 

He hits the stair rail with the flat of his hand, once, twice—fucking Christ.

Ward still looks at him like he’s the dangerous one and you need protecting from him.

Rafe kicks the suitcase Wheezie left at the bottom of the stairs, sending it skidding into the wall with a meaty thump. No one says anything, Rose’s still on the phone, Ward is now locked in his little god-mode tower, and Wheezie’s already disappeared into the car with her headphones in and not a single fuck to spare.

He can feel it crawling under his skin already—his thoughts tangling, his vision going hot at the edges. The way it always happens when his dad pulls this shit: setting traps and calling it structure, locking him in a cage and telling him it’s home.

Now he’s leaving, on a fucking “work” vacation.

With the people he likes. Rafe, the problem child, left behind. Babysat by the girl with the perfect smile and eyes that look straight through him. You’re going to love this.

That meddling little siren—

He shoves both hands through his hair and curses under his breath for good measure..

“No. Nope. I’m not fucking doing this.”

He stays locked in his room like a dog with a shock collar—pacing, spiraling, replaying the morning a hundred different ways. The AC is too loud; his phone is too quiet. He keeps checking his texts like someone might remember he exists.

By the time evening rolls around, the sun has dipped below the trees, and the whole damn house is steeped in that golden-hour glow that makes everything look fake to him, a lie.

He stalks down the hall, ignoring the burn in his chest, when he hears your voice. Soft, different from the way you talk to him, no venom or teeth.

Rafe slows as he reaches the door to the upstairs study, left ajar enough. 

There you are, the responsible one, the trusted one with a pristine reputation and a back pocket full of his secrets.

You’re on the phone. Rafe knows that tone. The voice, the one you use when you’re trying not to cry.

He’s only ever heard it once before.

“I’m only calling ‘cause he left,” you murmur. “You knew this would happen. You knew what he’d say again."

A pause.

“No, I’m not coming to see you. I can’t. Dad would lose his mind.”

Silence. Then your voice again, quieter.

“I miss you, too, mommy.”

Rafe goes rigid.

No fucking way.

You're talking to the woman nobody’s allowed to mention, who he hasn’t set eyes on since he was six. The one Ward spits venom over every Thanksgiving and your dad pretends never existed.

Your mom.

Rafe glances down the hall, scared someone might catch him listening, but he’s alone.

You sniff once.

“I’m really sorry.”

You laugh, bitter and small.

“I’m okay. Dad doesn’t know I have this phone on me.”

Rafe’s eyes widen.

The fucking guilt trip you’ve laid on him over the years,, every time he’s thrown a punch, popped a pill, broken a rule, you were always there with that cool stare, your angel act. 

Is this finally the one time he gets the dirt on you?

He should’ve heard your little secret, filed it under leverage, and backed off grinning. Fuck knows that’s what you would’ve done if the roles were reversed, you’ve been sitting on his sins for years.

But the more he listens, the more he realizes you’re sounding like a kid trying to piece together something no one ever let you talk about. He presses his back to the hallway wall, and it’s quieter again, but your voice floats out after a beat.

“Mom, you can’t come here, okay? I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Another pause. Longer this time. Rafe can almost hear her, your mom, through the silence, begging.

You exhale slowly, 

“I can’t do this right now. I can’t be the reason everything gets worse again, I’m sorry.”

Rafe fucking hates how it hits him suddenly, it makes sense. All of it. Why your dad keep you close like a doll behind glass, locked up and always smiling. Why you fight for everyone’s attention.

You’re trapped. And while Rafe’s chains are out in the open, loud and ugly and always on display, yours are quiet. Hidden behind good grades and stupid compliments.

He wanted so badly to use this against you, thought it would feel good.

But all he feels is fucking sick.

He thinks about what it must be like to hide something like that, to miss someone that much and never be allowed to say it out loud, grow up hearing that your mother’s name is poison.

To still answer her calls anyway.

He wants to ask why they hate her so much. What she did. Because it sure as fuck doesn’t sound like she abandoned you. If anything, it sounds like she’s the only one still trying to reach you.

He slides away from the wall, guilt trailing behind him when he gets back to his room, unsure if he knows anything about you or your dad, and his at all.

For the first time in years, he wonders....if you’re not the warden, perhaps you’re just another inmate.

Two hours later the smell hits him before he makes it to the stairs—garlic, butter, something frying in a pan—his stomach betrays him with a low, traitorous growl.

By the time he drags himself into the kitchen, you’re there. 

Back to him, standing at the stove, pretending you aren’t the root of the migraine drilling through the side of his skull.

“Look who came out of his crypt.”

Rafe rolls his eyes so hard he nearly gives himself a seizure. 

“Don’t start shit.”

“I didn’t say anything.” You flip something in the pan with far too much confidence. “Just making dinner.”

Rafe sits into a chair with a thud, arms folded, glare locked on you.

“You’re trying to piss me off.”

You hum, all innocent. “Why would I do that? You told me to stay away.”

He gives you a dead stare, reminiscing about the beach incident.

“’Cause that worked so well.”

You finally turn, holding the wooden spoon, an eyebrow raised. 

Your hair is tied up, a few stubborn strands falling loose, skin glowing from the heat of the stove. That tilt of your mouth that always looks like you know exactly what button to push and how hard.

His chest stutters, caught in the middle of what should’ve been a scoff.

Rafe wants to mock your apron or your tone. He could remind you this isn’t your kitchen, or accuse you of trying too hard, lay it on thick and pick a fight to feel something.

But instead, he watches and remembers the way your voice cracked when you said “I miss you, too, mommy.”

The spatula clinks against the pan.

“Smells good,” Rafe mutters.

You turn to face him, brows pinched. “What?”

He shrugs. Doesn’t meet your eyes. “I said it smells good.”

You narrow your eyes, suspicious immediately.

“Did you hit your head?”

He scoffs. “Relax. It’s not a compliment.”

You raise a brow. “Sure sounded like one.”

“It’s not. I’m just hungry.”

“Mmhmm,” you say, lips twitching like you're trying to bite back a smile.

“You’re gonna poison me, aren’t you?”

“If I wanted to poison you, I’d be more subtle about it.”

He’s hyper-aware of everything: how you walk barefoot across the tile, how your collarbone moves when you reach for a glass. Some twisted, domestic fever dream he never asked to star in.

“What?” You ask, “Choke on a bone or something?”

"Shut up,” he mutters, immediately looking away. Liar. Fucking liar.

He pushes his chair back a little and tries to breathe normally.

“You’re jumpy,” you add. “Afraid I laced it with something?”

He shoots you a look that could level a building. He hates how his brain short-circuited for a half-second; some caveman part of him wanted to lunge across the table and—what? Yell? Kiss you? Slam you against the fridge and—Nope. Shut it down.

He stands abruptly. “I’m not hungry anymore.”

“So dramatic,” you chuckle. “No wonder Ward wants me to keep an eye on you.”

That makes him stop cold.

“You think you’re better than me?”

You blink at him, eyes flickint to his face, then to his hands, cataloging the change. 

“No,” You chuckle, standing too. Stepping into his space. “I know I am.”

Then you brush past him, unbothered, your shoulder knocking his to prove you can.

He stares at the spot where you were standing, manifesting it to open up and swallow him whole. This is the same girl who covered for him last week when he disappeared for god knows how many hours.

He moves to the sink, runs the cold water until it splashes against the steel, to give himself something to do. Something that doesn’t involve putting his hands on you.

Rafe doesn’t realize he’s standing there like a fucking idiot, halfway to storming out again, until he feels something pull at his wrist.

You.

He looks down, your fingers wrapped around his arm.

Your nails.

Sharp little things, painted red, deep and glossy, reminding him of blood and cherries and everything else that makes his heart pound. You never wore red nails. Never. You chose soft pinks and pearly nudes—colors that whispered innocence, that matched the girl you pretended to be.

Now, when he looks at you, he doesn’t see the entitled lying rich girl who gets under his skin, he sees what you’ve spent your whole life trying to bury under pearls and perfect posture. The mother you’re not supposed to talk about.

He’s thinking about her now too, if you have her voice. If she taught you to cook, or if you taught yourself to feel closer to something that reminded you of her. He wonders if she painted your nails when you were little, and if she’d cry to see them now—red, sharp, dangerous.

“What are you doing?”

They’re done to perfection, to scratch a man’s throat open and then ask why he was bleeding on your shoes. The vision alone makes him gulp, yanking his arm back out of pure reflex, but you reach for him again.

Your fingers slide, nails grazing the inside of his wrist.

Rafe swallows; his legs move before his brain gives permission.

“Jesus,” he mutters, eyes still flicking to your hand. “Are you trying to claw through me or what?”

“Depends on how mouthy you get.”

Nevermind. 

Now he’s shamefully thinking about those nails in his skin, dragging down his back, across his throat, catching in his hair, his—He sits down hard in the chair, blue eyes fixed on the plate.

You turn back to the stove like nothing happened, singing to yourself like you didn’t carve your name into him with five little red knives, leaving phantom marks on the inside of his wrist.

The sickest, most humiliating part was that he let you, following you like a fucking dog.

Rafe’s eyes are stuck to your back, watching how your shoulder moves as you stir. He imagines what you’d do if he said something about your family, but he doesn’t know what’s worse—the idea of you fighting him over it or the idea of you not fighting at all.

You turn, carrying two plates, catching him staring at your hands.

“What?”

He fixes his gaze on your face and says, "Nothing."

You place his plate on the table, fingers brushing against the ceramic, nails clicking faintly. That sound is going to haunt him.

Then you slide into the seat across from him, poised and irritatingly pleased with yourself. You pick up your fork, twirling it in your fingers.

Rafe notices the glint of red nail polish flash again, the colour catching light like a fucking weapon. 

“How’s the food? I tried making your favorite.”

He moves in his chair, too aware of how warm it is in the kitchen.

Great, another reminder that you know him—better than he’s comfortable with. Favorite dish, perfect bite, cooked just how he likes it, no questions asked.

He takes a slow bite, chews, swallows. Doesn’t look at you.

“Good?” you ask, resting your chin in your hand, elbow on the table, watching him like he’s some kind of experiment you already know the outcome to.

“It’s fine.”

“You’re welcome.”

He shoots you a glare. “Didn’t say thank you.”

You chew slowly, sip from your glass like this is a date instead of a fucked-up purgatory neither of you can crawl out of.

“Okay.”

Rafe leans forward, elbows on the table.

“What’s with the nails?”

“Wanted something different,” you concede simply. “I did file ‘em a little meaner because it’s just the two of us. Gotta protect myself, y’know?”

From what he might want to do if you kept looking at him like that?

Rafe knows it’s bait.

His fingers twitch around the edge of his plate, wanting to meet you toe-to-toe. He almost does, but then you lick a little sauce from the corner of your mouth, a calculated fucking assault.

“Right.” He sits back, creating a much-needed distance. “I’ll sleep with one eye open.”

You raise both brows.

“You want me to look under your bed for the boogeyman?”

“No need,” he says lowly. “He’s sitting right across from me.”

“Funny! Or you could sleep in mine. The door’s always open for you.”

The chair scrapes loudly against the tile as he shoves back from the table, hands flat, eyes burning holes through the wood before he looks at you. He has to climb back into his own body before he can speak.

Your lips part, halfway to laughing.

He can picture them, red, glinting, curling in his shirt, pressing into his neck, leaving streaks on his hips.

“I’d never crawl into your bed. Keep dreaming.”

“Mhmm.” Your chin in your hand. “You almost sound like you mean that.”

Rafe looks away, biting the inside of his cheek so hard he tastes copper.

You stand too fluidly.

“Anyway,” you brush past him with your plate, your voice a knife sliding under his ribs, “the offer stands. Just knock first. Or don’t.”

“Get it through your thick skull already—I don’t want you.”

You give a condescending laugh, “If you say so, Rafey!”

“I don’t!”

Instead of backing down or being offended: “Really?” you purred, voice silk wrapped in razor wire. “So your little shows in the shower weren’t real?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” His voice cracks despite himself.

You slid your nails mercilessly up his chest; his breath hitches, eyes going wide with shock.

“Don’t act all innocent.” Your fingers are tangling in his hair as you press close, moving behind his neck to trap him. “I heard everything.”

Rafe’s eyes dart around, panic and disbelief.

“You—you didn’t—”

Your pretty eyes are glittering with wicked amusement. 

“Like I said, I really enjoyed the show.”

The flush is creeping into his cheeks as he tries to process what you said. 

“What?”

You nod, unfazed, pulling him closer.

“Yeah. If you needed help…” You continued, “You could’ve asked. I would’ve helped. Bet my hand would’ve felt a lot better than whatever you were doing.”

He wants to kill you, shove you six feet under. Every word you said, every touch, is gasoline on a fire that’s already burning out of control. The line between hatred and something filthy and craving hurt like a motherfucking bitch. It fucking hurts to want you like this.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You don’t seem unapologetic. “Is that so?”

All he can do is swallow hard, heart hammering.

“I had to get myself off too,” you murmur, “Even if my little toy probably doesn’t compare to yours.”

Your sad eyes lock onto his, the pout tugging at your lips like you’re asking for something; lips brushing against his jaw, a ghost of a kiss that makes him harder than any other girl before.

Rafe closes his eyes, the image flickering in his mind. He doesn’t want to watch but can’t look away. You, alone, needing release, the thought not helping whatsoever. Your mouth parted in a quiet moan that sounded like his name. Hips grinding on something plastic, fake, unworthy — but you were picturing him. 

Your lips dip, sucking behind his ear, trailing down his neck with a slow hunger.

His brain registers the sting digging into his shirt and the slick heat of your mouth on his skin, but he does nothing to stop you.

You pull away to whisper against his throat, 

“I did it... slow. Took my time. Imagined it was you.”

Suddenly, the image isn’t just words.

It’s him—your hips rolling, your hands clutching, your tits in ragged gasps. The thought of you riding that toy, pretending it was his cock...Shit.

Your hand slides beneath the waistband of his shorts, curling around him through the thin fabric. Rafe's breath comes to a halt, his chest rising and falling in ragged desperation.

“Do you need help?” Your voice is silk.

His eyes flicker down, glazed and stunned, and before he can talk himself out of it, he nods, a stupid little thing under your spell. 

Your eyes gleam like a predator who’s cornered its prey.

“Good boy.”

Rafe feels every centimeter of pressure, your fingers through the fabric of his shorts, molding around him like you were getting familiar. It's thin cotton, and the warmth of your palm bleeds through it. You press in, the pad of your thumb over the shape of him through the cotton, deliberately avoiding the tip… until you don't.

He shakes beneath your touch when your thumb finally rolls over the head of him, a stroke with enough pressure to make him sin. The friction forms a damp patch, and his entire body jerks as if he were shocked.

"Aw, poor baby," you coo mockingly. 

His hands are gripping the kitchen counter properly now, knuckles pale, chest heaving. You give another slow drag of your hand up his length, and this time you focus on the head, rubbing with your thumb before sliding down again, your fingers wrapping tighter around him.

Rafe lets out a sound—half-breath, half-whine—and your expression turns vicious.

“You need more? Need me to really help you?”

He nods again, helpless. Another dumb nod, dazed and burning alive from the inside out.

You tut, dragging your hand again, letting the heel of your palm press the sensitive spot below his tip. He bucks into it, involuntarily, a breathy moan escaping before he can hold it in.

“All that attitude,and now look at you.”

He wants to shove your hand away, and tell you to stop—but his hips betray him, rocking into your hand like a pre-adolescent. 

You brush a kiss along his neck, not matching the filth in your voice. “More?”

His breath hitches. “H-how are you doing this to me.”

A delighted sound escapes you. “This is all you.”

His hips chase something to relieve the pressure building between his legs. Your fingers finally slip beneath the waistband, skin on skin, and he goes silent, a witch.

“There you are.”

You know what you’re doing, stroking him with a rhythm that’s measured. Rafe can’t pretend to have dignity anymore.

“Fuck,” he hisses.

“Thought you didn’t want me.”

“I don’t,” he lies, voice breaking. “I—fuck, stop talking—”

Your thumb drags over the slit, collecting wetness, spreading it as you pump him harder. 

“No, you don’t.”

Rafe groans, loud this time, hips grinding into your fist, a mindless thing, breath ragged and fast. His abs clench with every stroke, his vision blurring. He chokes on a breath, mouth dropping open as a guttural sound breaks loose from his throat.

Embarrassingly loud. 

Your silence makes it worse; the sounds he’s making sound louder in his head—the wet slide of your palm, his pathetic breathing, the way he whimpers when your thumb brushed the tip.

He cracks an eye open.

Big mistake.

You’re watching him.

He drops his eyes to your hand, your fucking hand, and that’s even worse. Those red nails while your fist pump up and down the length of his cock.

“Jesus Christ,” His throat's dry already, “Fuck—fuck—”

He’s going to come way too fast. He slams his head back against the cabinet again and tries to think about anything else: cold shower, dead puppies, his dad in a golf shirt.

You flick at the head, and he makes a strangled noise—half-moan, half-panic.

“Shit,” he breathes out, “shit, slow down—”

“Why?”

You don’t.

“Oh fuckkkk,” he croaks, panic threading through his tone.

Your knuckles brush the soaked waistband of his shorts.

“What’s the matter? You’re gonna come?”

One more pass of your thumb over the slick crown, and he almost lost it.

“No—no, fuck, I—” he grunts, back arching off the cabinet. He has to breathe through his nose and force himself to lock his knees. “God, I can’t—I can’t—” His voice is nothing, just broken glass and desperation.

“Why not, mhmm? I know you want to.”

He hates you and he’s going to fucking bust, it’s going to be the hardest, most humiliating orgasm of his life.

Rafe lets out a noise, hardly close to a word, a rasp torn from somewhere deep. 

"Stop looking at me like that," he mumbles hoarsely.

He bites his lip again, hard, a noise escapes anyway, ugly, desperate—and he ducks his head, breath pouring out in shallow bursts.

“You’re such a fucking—” But the insult dies in his throat when your hand squeezes along him with sinful precision.

“Say it,” you challenge, your breath warm on his neck. “C’mon, baby. Say what I am.”

He whimpers instead, and you laugh amused.

“Thought so.”

And then… You stop, just like that.

Your hand slips away, leaving him soaked and twitching, his cock pulsing against nothing, the denial crushing him. A gasp punches from his chest, and he chases your hand with his hips before he realizes you’re not giving it back.

His eyes fly open, frantic, wild.

“No—no, no, no, wait—what the fuck?”

You’re admiring the mess blooming across the front of his shorts, the trembling in his thighs, the way he looks ruined without even coming.

“W-why’d you—” he stammers, breath breaking apart in pieces, hands hovering in front of him, he doesn’t know what to do with them.

“Next time you try to eavesdrop, do it quietly.”

Shit.

“I didn’t mean to—”

“Yeah, you did. You wanted to be right about me. So congrats, Cameron. Break out the champagne.”

You pull your hand out slowly, letting the elastic snap back, and make a little thoughtful noise as you look at your palm, proceeding to lick it like it’s a trophy.

“Thanks for dessert,” You muse, voice velvet.

What the fuck. 

He doesn’t even mean the act itself—he means you.

He curses under his breath, trying to look away. You don’t wait for a reaction, smoothing your clothes like you hadn’t just wanked him off where he stood, and turning toward the hallway. His throat is fucking dry and sore like he’d screamed. He hadn’t, but it sure as fuck feels like it.

Rafe deserved it, he knows it.

He did eavesdrop. He did want to be right. About you, but none of it prepared him for this. For the way you said his name, for the sound of your breath near his ear, for the fucking smile you wore while ruining him.

He looks down at the poor state you left him in, soaked, hard, undone. His chest heaves, sweat on his neck and lower back, body flushed with humiliation and aching want.

Rafe drags a shaky hand down his face, trying to regroup. The arousal is still there, awful and insistent. But underneath there’s something worse—shame burned into every nerve.

He presses the heel of his palm into his eyes.

“Fucking idiot.”

[luigilore]

time in a bottle- l.m

(a/n: hi guys! i wrote this a few months ago but i have been thinking a lot about dad!lu and also i missed u all and wanted to post something, i hope you enjoy)

how your boyfriend turned into your husband and how the two of you started and grew a family

luigi mangione x reader, time jumps, parent au, dad!luigi x mom!reader, (parts w/ pregnant reader), 2.5k

Your thing with Luigi is really good, sometimes it just feels too good and too right. Everything feels like it’s fallen so effortlessly and perfectly in place. You definitely don’t want to jinx anything, but after eight months of officially dating- and two years of mutual pinning through mutual friends in Hawaiʻi, Luigi has been absolutely everything you wanted and needed in a guy.

It’s easy to talk to him, to laugh; to tell him anything. Luigi wants to get to know you, to understand and help you. When you talk, he listens with his eyes never leaving yours and a soft smile always dancing on his lips. And during moments like these, when you're lying in bed, limbs tangled together, his large palm over your waist, and when you pet his bed head and he smiles sleepily- you never, ever want Luigi to leave.

He watches you now with a dazed, blissed look of total comfort. He smells like your clean sheets and his usual wood and sea salt cologne as his warm fingers trace different gentle patterns against your shoulder.

You both have been slowly convincing each other to get up eventually and tackle your Sunday plans of grocery shopping and putting together Luigi's new book shelf he ordered after he outgrew his other one. But it’s been over an hour of falling back asleep and slowly blinking awake and neither of you has made much progress yet.

“Do you ever think about having kids?” Luigi asks suddenly, making you twist in his arms to look at his sweet face and dazed eyes.

“Yeah,” you whisper a bit hoarsely, watching how intensely curious he looks. “Sometimes."

You subconsciously match his small smile, thoughts of an incredibly wholesome future together making your heart unfairly twist in excitement and want. “I think about it all the time with you,” you continue and Luigi grins instantly. 

You've seen how delicately and kindly Luigi interacts with children, how naturally warm and gentle he is. You wouldn't admit it, but even before you were dating, you had a few fleeting thoughts about Luigi as a father.

“Really?” He asks and you smile, your hand running down his bicep. “Of course.”

Luigi is quiet for a while before he speaks again, slightly hesitating. "And, you think– you think I'd be– I could be a good dad, right?”

His eyes search yours as you roll over to kiss him with a soft smile. “Absolutely.” Luigi just looks at you like you said something entirely captivating and consuming.

“What?” You grin, pressing your lips against his jaw gently, "I'm just telling you the truth."

“I just want it so badly, I don’t know.” Luigi bends his arms to rest them behind his head. He watches you, totally suddenly peaceful and content. “I want so much with you.”

-

4 years later

You wake up to the muffled sound of Luigi's voice, momentarily wondering if he’s on the phone but you smile to yourself when you listen closely and hear his softer and higher tone- his baby voice. You excitedly make your way to your kitchen, leaning against the doorframe and appreciating the scene in front of you. Luigi is carefully holding your daughter, Mia, with both arms, walking around the kitchen, while simultaneously trying to make eggs.

He has messy bed hair- similar to yours, a now permanent fashion statement in the Mangione household, and stubble dotted along his jaw. You listen to his soft whispers and your heart swells as your baby’s small fingers cling onto his white undershirt and her chubby hand grasps at his arm, softly patting over his chest.

Luigi has his back to you so you stay unnoticed, enjoying the serene beauty of your husband and daughter together. She’s already almost eight months old and time felt like it was flying by- even if the sleepless nights felt incredibly long. Now, even if time alone and a longer than five-minute shower felt like a luxury, you couldn’t and don’t want to remember a time without Mia.

You absolutely love watching Luigi with her, you love watching the way he so gracefully and perfectly assumed the role of being a father, especially after the late night conversations you had when you were pregnant when Luigi tearfully admitted his fears of his ability to be a good father when he lacked one as a child. But between Luigi's reading of basically every pregnancy book on the market and the way she kicked immediately at the sound of his voice, it was quickly obvious he had nothing to worry about.

You love how attentive he is and how much he dotes on her and takes care of you at the same time. How he diligently learned how to cook- and make fresh, healthy baby food,  how he reads a ridiculous amount of baby books to her daily, and how he insisted on making sure you get at least minimum of a few hours of sleep a night.

You watch him bounce her gently, leaning against the doorframe and you smile silently until your daughter spots you from behind his shoulder. She reaches out and giggles with a tiny grin and Luigi turns around, mirroring her smile, which looks enduringly similar to his own.

“Need help?” You ask as Luigi laughs. “There’s probably a more effective way to make breakfast but I didn't want to put her down.”

Mia stretches her arms out towards you and you reach over to gently grab her from his hold. "Coffee?” He asks, knowing your answer.

“Yes please,” you smile down at your baby, her soft hairs and long lashes. She leans her head against your chest, already comfortable in your arms. You watch Luigi stand on his tiptoes to grab a coffee mug and you press a kiss to the crown of her head.

What a nice morning.

-

“Come take a picture!” Luigi says as your daughter giggles and toddles over to you, hurrying as fast as her tiny legs can carry her; bound in a large winter coat, mittens, and ear muffs. A tiny chubby arm extends out to you- a wordless ask for stability and help. You smile and reach to help as she struggles to wrap her small arms around your shoulders, tiny hands grasping your jacket. Her full pink cheek smushes against yours as Luigi positions the picture, grinning behind his camera, “Your first snow this year, baby!”

“Snow!” She repeats loudly, head straining up towards the sky with fascination. She had just started talking and loved impressing everyone with her linguistic skills, taking her limited vocabulary very seriously as she already loved to talk and communicate with the two of you. Luigi loved entertaining her- and himself, by sitting her in his lap and reading her favorite books, the ones they had memorized together.

“Smile!” He says excitedly, grinning behind the large camera he insisted in investing in when your daughter was born. 

Mia listens, with a grin that has always looked exactly like her father’s. Your arm finds its way to the small of her back, holding her securely as Luigi takes the picture. 

“Perfect,” Luigi mutters, more to himself, watching his family in front of him.

-

“What’s the surprise?” Mia cries, toying with the hem of her shirt. Her anxious gaze darts back and forth between you and Luigi, upset that you both know something she doesn’t.

At three years old, she hates feeling like she’s being excluded from something. The hardest part of her routine is now attempting to convince her that it's bedtime and neither of you would dare have fun without her while she's sleeping.

Luigi hands her a small transparent piece of film and your daughter plays with it gently, turning it around in her palm. “What does this mean?” She questions, not able to stay still and scooting towards you with wide, curious eyes. 

Luigi holds her close to his body, wrapping an arm around her as she gives him her full attention. “It means in a couple of months you’re going to be an older sister.” Mia blinks with her mouth open, she has friends in preschool who were younger siblings or already had younger brothers or sisters. Luigi's cousin recently had twins and Mia was completely fascinated by how tiny they were and that there were two babies.

You knew Luigi always wanted a bigger family, wanted Mia to have siblings, and the timing had finally felt right for the first time since she was born a few years ago.

“Really?” Her voice grows louder in pure excitement, looking at you in awe before her eyebrows furrow, confused. “Why not right now?” She pouts, immediately turning to her father for an explanation.

Luigi laughs loudly with an endeared smile that is always reserved solely for his daughter. “That’s not how it works, angel." He pulls her into his lap, noting that patience is still a hard virtue for a three-year-old.

-

You’re tucking Mia into bed a few nights later when she brings up the baby again.

“There’s a baby in there?” She asks, pointing to your stomach where a small but noticeable bump had begun to show. After Luigi's scientific but three- year old friendly explanation, Mia has been fascinated with her younger sibling, always curiously asking you both about babies. It even made Luigi briefly tear up one night, hit with the realization Mia wasn't a baby anymore, even though you quickly reminded him she still was only three.

“Yes, sweetheart,” you laugh as she smiles widely. “Wow,” her big eyes fill with excitement and curiosity. She reaches out and lays a small, warm hand on your stomach, “Hi baby.”

You smile at your daughter, already knowing what a great sister she'll be. She grips the comforter tightly as she moves to your side to cuddle you closer. “Love you,” she mumbles, eyes tightly shut, trying to lull herself into sleep. 

“I love you too,” you say quietly and you eventually think she’s successfully asleep, tucked tightly next to you until she whispers cutely, “I love you baby.” You feel a small tap on your stomach and she snuggles closer, satisfied and closes her eyes for a peaceful sleep. 

-

“Look!” Your daughter calls as she thrusts a picture towards Luigi, a pink and purple fingerprinted flower. He takes her in his arms, “For me?” Luigi grins, looking at her art. Luigi loves her artwork and his offices both at home and at work are filled with her masterpieces.

Mia arms find his shoulders. “No,” she giggles, “for Mommy!” She finishes, still laughing at his reaction.                      

Luigi pretends to look hurt, pouting, “Well, can I have one too?” he asks. Mia thinks about it for a few moments, face twisting in thought, “Okay!” The little girl decides and Luigi's smile grows instantly, “Thank you, baby.”

She frowns, chiding her father with a grin, “I’m not a baby.” 

“You’re not?” Luigi asks surprised and she nods approvingly. “Yes, the baby is with mommy right now,” she explains, looking at him to confirm he understands.

“Ahhh,” He nods knowingly, smiling tugging on his lips, “I see. You’re right. You're so smart, my big girl.” Mia hides her smile, shyly leaning against Luigi's shoulder and tucking her face into his chest.

“You’re still my baby though, right?“ He whispers as she continues to bury her face further into his shirt, giggling out a sweet, “yes."

-

Nemo has been the chosen movie for your weekly movie night- for the fourth time in a row, because Luigi can never find it in him to say no to Mia and she is somehow still incredibly invested in Nemo's storyline. But now, as the end credits of Nemo play, Mia sits in Luigi's lap, letting him loosely braid her growing hair. You’re lying next to them, a blanket draped over you as Luigi watches you sleep peacefully, getting your well deserved and needed rest.

Mia sighs against Luigi's chest as he pats her shoulder. "Let’s go to bed, angel.”

She lets her father hoist her up and carry her into her room, the one right down the hall from yours, with pink walls and a newly upgraded twin bed.

“Daddy,” she whispers suddenly, clutching her favorite teddy bear like she's nervous. “Will you still love me even if I’m not a baby anymore?”

Luigi blinks and brushes back stray hairs from her face with a soft smile, trying to ignore the way his heart breaks inside his chest. “Of course honey, I could never not love you, never ever.”

Mia smiles to herself, seemingly satisfied with her fathers response. 

“Will you still love me?” Luigi asks and she giggles loudly like it’s a silly question.

“Yes!”

“I had to make sure,” He defends and Mia laughs, wrapping her arms around his torso and squeezing tight.

“Mia," Luigi finishes seriously, "Mommy and I will love you forever.”

-

“The baby is going to be small,” Luigi explains, walking Mia through the hospital halls as she swings their interlocked hands back and forth excitedly.

“Okay,” she bounces. “Isn’t it cool that the baby and I have the same birthday month?”

“Wow,” he looks down at Mia and her bright, excited eyes, “it really is.”

“But we have our own days,” she continues, “I think it was meant to be.” She decides, stopping when Luigi does, right in front of your hospital room.

“I think so too,” he smiles, squeezing her hand gently and opening the door carefully.

“Wow,” Mia gasps, consciously trying not to run up to the hospital bed where you hold a tiny bundle.

“Hi, sweetheart,” you smile, “Do you want to meet your sister?”

She nods with wide eyes, already on her tippy toes to try and peer over the tall bed. Luigi instead sits down in the chair next to you and lifts her into his lap. “Here,” he murmurs as you carefully pass over your newborn.

“Hi,” Mia stares at the small bundle, “Daddy,” she gasps, looking up at Luigi in awe. She touches the baby tentatively as her father's arm wraps around her waist. Mia is already hyper-fixated on her sibling, on her sister.

Mia smiles, helping Luigi support the baby's head gently, turning to look at you. “Do you think she already knows how much I love her?”

You nod, “I know she does.” Mia nods with a satisfied smile, like that reassures her and you watch her hold her sister, sharing a silent but knowing look with Luigi; knowing now that your family feels so, so complete.

[pink-sparkly-witch]

The Girls Next Door, Part Two

Summary: When Beau moves next door to Y/N and her daughter, Mia, he finds something he didn’t know he needed: another chance at love. Now, he needs to convince her he’s worth the risk.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x Single Mother!Reader

Rating: General

Triggers / Warnings / Tags: Fluff, nerves, a teeny bit of angst

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: Consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite or leaving a comment. It truly fuels a creative’s muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖

My Masterlist AO3 Ko-Fi

Beau’s POV

“Are you really going to stand there until I lock my door when you’re right there, and nothing is going to happen?” Y/N looked amused but flattered as she folded her arms across her chest.

“You’re damn right, I am! You can never be too careful,” Beau smirked. “Goodnight, Y/N.” Maybe it was the cop in him, or perhaps it was just his feelings for the beautiful single mother that made him want to take care of her.

“Goodnight, Sheriff,” Y/N grinned as she closed the door. Beau remained on the porch until he heard the key turn in the door, locking them in safely for the night.

Emily smirked at him when he got into the truck, and he knew that look never meant anything good. “You should ask Y/N out. Y’all would be cute together,” she eventually said, impatient at his silence.

“That’s not…” he sighed. “Alright, listen. After your mom, I’m not looking—I don’t want another…” Beau paused before he sighed, and Emily quickly filled the silence.

“I know, Dad. I hate what Mom did to you. You didn’t deserve it, and I’ll never forgive her for it. But it doesn’t mean you can’t try again. You deserve that. And so does Y/N.”

“It’s complicated, Emily, alright? Your mother deeply hurt me, and that’s not something you get over easily. And Y/N has a young kid. She’ll be wary about introducing someone new into Mia’s life.”

“You’re not new, though, are you?” Trust Emily to be the voice of reason, beating away his insecurities, and he wondered when his baby girl had become such a wise young lady.

“What if it doesn’t work, Em? We’re neighbours, and she has a kid who could get caught up in the fallout. I don’t want another child hurt because I’ve failed at another relationship,” Beau voiced one of his deepest insecurities, immediately regretting putting it on his teenage daughter’s shoulders.

“Why wouldn’t it work?” Emily said as if it was the dumbest thing she’d ever heard.

“There’s a million reasons. First of all, I’m a workaholic,” Beau said, stopping short at Emily’s grunt of disapproval.

“That’s Mom talking. You weren’t working tonight, were you? And thanks to Y/N’s offer, you’re not working on Sunday either,” she smirked again. “What are you really scared of, Dad? I want you to be happy. You deserve that after Mom.”

Beau glanced at his little girl, growing up right before his eyes and sighed. “What if she doesn’t see me that way?”

“You’ll never know if you don’t ask her,” Emily said as though it was the simplest thing in the world.

“Saved by the bell, now get! It’s late, and you’ve got school in the morning,” Beau said, pulling to a stop outside Carla and Avery’s house.

“Deflecting as usual, I see!” Emily laughed as she unbuckled her seat belt and grabbed her school bag. “This conversation isn’t over!” she pointed at him with a stern look that was too much like her mother’s and opened the car door.

Beau walked her to the front door and, as he’d done with Y/N, stood on the porch and waited until he heard the locks turn before heading back to his truck.

Driving home, he thought about Emily's words. He wished he was as fearless and free with his heart as she was, but Carla’s wounds ran far below the surface, and he didn’t know if he had the strength to put himself through loving someone again. Still, something in him wanted to try. Something deep down in his heart was telling him it was worth it. Y/N was worth it.

“I can’t believe I’m taking dating advice from my teenage daughter!” Beau scoffed as he put his truck in park on his driveway and got out.

He glanced at Y/N’s house and smiled. There was no harm in finding out where she stood with the whole dating thing, right?

Y/N’s POV

To say Mia was excited for their dinner guest was an understatement; bouncing off the walls seemed more appropriate. If Y/N didn’t know better, she’d have sworn her daughter had been pumped full of sugar.

She’d made sure to wait until Beau had confirmed he would make it before telling Mia he was coming. The little girl had taken an instant liking to the gentle sheriff, and she couldn’t bear to see her disappointed if he had to rain-check on the invitation.

“How about,” Y/N said to Mia, who was jumping up and down on the sofa, “we put on Frozen, and Beau will be here by the time it’s finished. How does that sound?” Trying to calm a hyper four-year-old was no easy task, but for whatever reason, that movie was the only thing that could hold her undivided attention from start to finish.

“Okay, Mommy.” Mia jumped off the sofa and turned on the television. Y/N wasn’t sure if that fact embarrassed or impressed her, but it wasn’t a surprise. Working two jobs had made Mia a little older than her years and more independent than she liked to admit, but it had to be done if she wanted to keep a roof over their heads, food in their bellies, and clothes on their backs.

With her daughter settled and distracted, Y/N returned to preparing dinner. She wanted the meal to go perfectly, which was strange because Beau’d had her cooking many times before and had nothing but good things to say about it. The self-proclaimed meat man even raved about her vegetarian lasagne to anyone who’d listen for weeks afterwards.

She was nervous, too, and that was another strange feeling about her neighbour coming over for dinner. It wasn’t a feeling she associated with Beau. He’d never made her nervous before, and it made her feel more than a little bit uncomfortable.

The opening bars of “Let It Go” floating in from the living room felt timely, and that was exactly what she did: let her thoughts go.

As predicted, Beau knocked on the door with ten minutes left of the movie, allowing him just enough time to have a few sips from a bottle of beer before Mia barreled into the kitchen and almost knocked him off his feet with the force she threw herself at him.

“Well, hey there, little lady!” Beau grinned at her delight at seeing him. “What d’ya say we help Mommy and set the table for dinner?”

“You don’t have to do that, Beau. You’re our guest,” Y/N tried to protest, but he waved her off, taking Mia’s hand as she led him around the kitchen, pointing out the cupboards and drawers he needed to go to.

“The plates live there,” Mia pointed to one of the wall cupboards, “and the grown-up glasses live next door. Mine live in here!” She opened the cupboard next to the sink and triumphantly pulled out a plastic Elsa cup, making him laugh.

“Alright, and what about the knives and forks? Do you want to show me where they live?” Beau grinned. He already knew where they were, but Y/N found it cute that he entertained Mia.

As she finished cooking, Y/N couldn’t wipe the smile from her face. Mia and Beau talked and laughed the whole time they set the table, making her feel more content than she had in a long time.

“What are you so happy about?” Beau’s voice interrupted her thoughts.

“It’s nothing,” she waved him off.

“Come on now, darlin’! A smile like that isn’t nothing,” he said, grabbing dishes filled with food and putting them on the dining table.

“Seeing Mia right now,” she sighed, “It’s something I never thought… you know what? It’s stupid,” she shrugged as she took the carving knife and fork from their wall hooks.

“Hey, listen to me. Your thoughts and feelings aren’t stupid, darlin,” Beau said as he blocked her route to the dining table with his broad body. “They’re valid, and they’re yours. Now, you don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to, but never think something like this is stupid.”

“Okay,” she smiled. “As you know, Mia’s never known her father or had a father figure. And it’s nice to see her happy. I mean, she’s always happy. She’s a little ray of sunshine all the time, but seeing her when you’re around, it’s a different kind of happiness. A kind that I never thought I’d see,” she shrugged, and Beau tilted his head silently, requesting more information.

“A father figure, Beau,” she smiled. “I’m not trying to put any responsibility on you for anything, but it’s just so nice to see her have a good and kind man in her life that she can look up to.”

“And you didn’t think she’d ever have that?” Beau frowned as she shook her head.

“Why not?”

“Well, at least not when she was young enough for it to make a significant impact on her. My priority will always be Mia. So, I’ll probably wait until she’s older before I think about having another person as a priority in my life. Or bringing someone into hers who might not stay.”

“Mommy, I’m hungry! Can we eat yet?” Mia asked.

“Alright, we’re coming!” Y/N chuckled.

After dinner, Y/N bribed Mia with watching cartoons in the living room, giving her and Beau a chance to talk as they cleared up after the meal.

“You don’t have to do that,” Y/N smiled softly, watching as he rinsed the dishes before putting them in the dishwasher.

“Come on, now, darlin’. You’ve spent all afternoon cooking this delicious meal for me. It’s the least I can do.”

“You’re a guest, Beau. Guests don’t do cleanup duties!” she chucked, filling the refrigerator with leftovers.

“You think I could get some of that to go?” Beau nodded towards the fridge, gesturing to the leftovers.

“Already got a Tupperware filled for you!” Y/N grinned as she closed the fridge door. “And don’t change the subject!”

“It’s the polite and right thing to do when someone offers you a home-cooked meal. Think of it as my way of thanking you and giving you a little time to put your feet up.”

“Beau—”

“Y/N, please,” Beau huffed a laugh. “Sit, enjoy your beer and let me clear up.”

“Okay,” she relented. “Thank you.”

Taking a seat at the breakfast bar, Y/N groaned as her tired muscles relaxed. She took a long sip from the bottle and sighed contentedly.

“What?” she smirked at Beau’s chuckle.

“Nothing, darlin’. I just thought I’d have a bigger fight on my hands getting you to relax!” Y/N laughed at how accurate Beau’s statement would usually have been.

“Normally, you’d be right, but it’s not often I have someone around to help me clean up after mealtimes, so I figured I’d take advantage of your offer,” she shrugged and sipped from her beer bottle again.

“Good. Because you deserve to be taken care of, too.” Beau had wanted to continue their conversation from before dinner and hadn’t known how to bring it up again, but this gave him the perfect opportunity. “You know, if you had a boyfriend, he could take care of you.”

“Maybe. But my priority is—”

“Mia, I know. As she should be. But it’s not fair on you to put your future on hold. Don’t you want to have love and companionship? Or more kids?”

“If I meet the right guy, yeah, absolutely. But I’m not going to go out and look for someone. I work two jobs, and I only get a few hours a day with her and every other weekend as it is. If I start going out to bars or whatever looking for dates, I’d get to spend even less time with her.”

“Okay, then let me ask you this: who is the right guy for you? What would he have to do to convince you to go on a date with him?”

“He’ll be kind and considerate. He’ll be a gentleman and good with kids, obviously. He’ll love at-home date nights as much as out-on-the-town date nights.” She was smiling as she told him what her perfect man was, and he was smiling because he knew he was that man.

“He’ll also need to be understanding and able to accept that I have a kid, and we’d need to take things slowly and at my pace, and then at Mia’s pace. They’d meet her on my terms and continue to be a part of her life on hers.”

“For someone who’s waiting until her daughter gets older, you’ve thought a lot about this!” Beau laughed. “Are you sure you’re not looking for a boyfriend?”

“Why? Do you have someone in mind?” Y/N cocked an eyebrow and smirked.

“What would you say if I told you I did?” Beau asked. All playfulness was gone from his voice, and a more serious and deep tone took over.

“Beau, I—” Y/N began, but Beau wasn’t finished, and he walked around her kitchen island and stood next to her.

“Because I do. And I think he’d be perfect for you. And for Mia.”

“Who?” she gulped.

“If you’re not ready to date, then I won’t tell you because, darlin’, he won’t survive another heartbreak.”

She knew it was him because of the change in his stance and body language, the contortion of his facial features, the shift in his tone and their conversation. She never wanted to let herself believe it. It was something she’d only dreamed about, and if she was completely honest with herself, something she’d tried–and failed–to fight.

Beau was perfect in every way for her. She’d known that since the day she’d invited him in for coffee when he’d moved in and knocked on her door to ask where the nearest coffee shop was. But back then, she didn’t know him. Back then, she was protecting herself and Mia.

“Tell me, Beau. Please.”

Beau’s POV

All Beau had done since his conversation with Emily a few nights ago was think about how right she was. He did deserve another chance at love and happiness. He might have messed it up the first time, but he and Carla were young, and he’d changed a lot since then. And he realised now that the downfall of their marriage wasn’t entirely his fault. Yes, he’d kick-started the unfortunate chain of events, but she’d given up on him when he’d needed her the most.

The more he thought about Y/N, the more he noticed it: the coy smiles and soft, lingering touches. The way she asked him how he was or how his day had been and genuinely wanted to know the answer, doing everything she could to cheer him up if the occasion asked for it. He knew friends could do all of those things, but his gut told him this was different.

He didn’t know when it’d happened, but they’d gone past friendship and became someone important in each other’s lives. Emily questioning him in the way she did made him see it. His thoughts had been on nothing else when he wasn’t at work, and it made him accept it and want to fight for it. It’s what made him bring it up with her in the first place. And what made him revisit the conversation when they were alone again.

“What would you say if I told you I did?” he asked when the opportunity presented itself. It hadn’t been planned, but he couldn’t take it back now.

“Beau, I—” Y/N began, but he interrupted before he backed out of this conversation altogether.

“Because I do. And I think he’d be perfect for you. And for Mia.”

“Who?” she asked, but her face, tone, everything told him she already knew.

“If you’re not ready to date, then I won’t tell you because, darlin’, he won’t survive another heartbreak.” It wasn’t a lie. He wouldn’t survive it. Not from her.

“Tell me, Beau. Please.”

“Me, Y/N,” Beau admitted. “I’m perfect for you. For both of you.”

Part Three

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[joelssimp]

STILL | CHAPTER 20

CW: Sister chaos energy. Domestic, and fluff. Not much on this one, I wanted to explore more of her relationship with Mandy, and how Mandy is slowly changing.

7.2K words

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20 - Mandy

December was its own rhythm. Came in quietly, wrapped in so much snow and the kind of cold that made every breath feel heavier inside my chest. With production on hold, the days stretched out in unfamiliar ways. No early call times, no more standing in frozen sets, and no more frantic mornings prepping gear before light faded. Just… soft mornings working from home, coffee or tea hot in our hands, and some relaxing for the mind.

I stood at the window, fingers curled around a mug of coffee I made in that lazy morning, watching the snow fall thick and slow on the streets of Calgary. It drifted down like it had all the time in the world — soft, constant and endless, like it didn’t care that everything in me still felt like the world was moving too fast.

Matt was doing better in a new clinic up in Ottawa. He sent updates almost every other day now—mostly photos or short texts saying that the routine helps a lot. His eyes were clearer and  steadier. There was more weight on his face, more color too. It wasn’t perfect, but it was him, or as much of him that I remember, enough that the ache in my chest loosened its grip just a little.

I scrolled through his last message while the steam rose past my face. He looked like someone who had been pulled from deep water and finally found land he could step into. Like he could breathe again, and that felt like a small victory in a sense.

On the other hand, around London, I haven't heard much from my dad. Just one small message after the facility confirmed payment had gone through. “Thank you.” That was it. No follow-up, no guilt this time. Just silence, but not in a cruel way. Just dad in his pride, too big to swallow. 

And then there was everything else too—The award was coming. I kept forgetting that it was real, that people were still talking about the photos I took. Interviews were scheduled for January in Los Angeles. I have to fly down there, talk to people about my work, spread the good news about how it feels to work for fifteen to sixteen hours straight, to answer agents, and production. How it feels to be a small part of a giant machine. And to claw my way up the latter alone, trying and error every time.

Pedro will be around the town too. January for him meant Mandalorian season 3 production, and endless nights for me without him by my side.

Since we got back from Canmore we were still… us. Just a little more quiet, and careful. Still tucked behind knowing looks and quiet nights and the way his voice sounded when no one else was around. There wasn’t a name for it yet, at least not one I could say out loud without risking what we have.

But it was as real as it could get behind closed doors. Just us knowing each other, learning a little more each day. Making each other feel good—sometimes too good.

I caught my reflection in the window and didn’t recognize it right away. I looked… tired, and even a little older from the harsh months I’ve endured. But I didn’t feel fragile anymore. Those months had taken so much, but they also gave me more than I could count.

From where I stood I could see the cars coming around the block, and just as my watch turned to another hour of the day I saw the cab turning with an unhurried pace.

She was finally here.

I set the mug down too fast, almost knocking it over. My heart jumped in that stupid, familiar way it always did when something good is about to happen. I hadn’t realized how badly I needed to see someone who knew me the way she did — before all of this. Before Pedro, before the Pandemic and all the complications, before everything cracked open inside me.

She stepped out of the cab bundled in a ridiculous purple scarf, dragging a suitcase across the icy sidewalk, her hair half-tucked into her coat, like she left in a hurry to get here as fast as possible. 

Kate peeked out from her bedroom door, hair a mess, one eye still closed. “She’s here?”

“Yeah,” I whispered, suddenly blinking too fast. “She’s here.”

For the first time in weeks, the flat didn’t feel like a pressure cooker of leftover tension. It didn’t feel like a reminder of everything I hadn’t said to Kate yet.

It felt… softer. Something close to the word “home.”

The knock on the door was barely necessary — I was already halfway across the flat before it came. I opened the door just as the sixteen-year-old raised her hand again, too impatient to wait a couple of seconds. The handle of her suitcase was swinging out behind her like an extra limb.

“Oh my God, it is so cold,” Mandy blurted, barreling inside before I could even get a hello out. “Like, my eyelashes froze walking from the car. That’s a thing? Nobody told me that was a thing.”

I caught her in a tight hug before she could say anything else. Tighter than she expected me to. For a moment, her body stilled inside my arms, but then, she wrapped her arms around me like she knew just what I needed. The way her warmth filled in all the spaces that were still cold inside me, made me exhale softly.

She pulled back with a grin. “Okay, now I’m happy.”

I laughed. “You weren’t before?”

“I was freezing. And your cab driver was listening to this conspiracy podcast so loud, I think I know everything about the moon landing being fake now.” She rolled her eyes as she kicked off her boots. “Also… what’s with the airport being built like a maze? I swear I walked in circles for fifteen minutes before I found the exit.”

She had her scarf half-unwound already, cheeks pink and flushed from the cold, hair full of static. She looked exactly like herself — too much energy, not enough patience, and somehow already planning five things at once before her body had caught up to her brain.

Kate peeked out from her room again, holding a mug. “You’re loud.”

Mandy pointed a finger at her. “And you’re grumpy.”

Kate cracked a smile at that. Mandy had that effect on anybody.

“I brought gifts,” Mandy added in a singsong voice, dropping her tote bag onto the couch. “And snacks. But mostly just me. Aren’t you so lucky?”

“Unbelievably,” I said, still smiling like an idiot.

She launched into a story before I could even ask anything — something about a woman in the seat next to her painting her nails mid-flight (“Hot pink. In an airplane. Who does that?”), and how she almost missed her connection in Edmonton because the gate changed three times. She moved around in our flat like she belonged there, tossing her coat onto the back of the chair, opening a window a crack because “It smells like airplane in here.” Even though the smell came from her clothes.

I didn’t interrupt. Not like there’s anything like stopping Mandy.

I just watched her.

How her face lit up when she talked about things that made her excited, and she was excited to be here — really, genuinely excited, like I haven’t seen her be this happy since March 2020. And it was not because of some bucket list, or because she wanted to escape home for the holidays. She was happy to be my little sister again, to spend time together.

“I have so many plans,” she said, pulling out her phone and scrolling. “Okay, listen, there’s this café that does cinnamon lattes with brûléed marshmallows—yes, you heard that right. And also I found this lake thing people go skating on? And we’re doing that. I don’t care if I fall on my face, you’re coming with me.”

“Skating?” I repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Or watching other people fall, whatever. And—oh! We have to go to Banff sometime, because I’ve never forgiven you for showing me those gorgeous pictures. I want to se mountains with snow. Like full snow globe moment, alright?”

“Okay,” I said softly.

Mandy looked up from her phone. “Okay, what?”

“Okay… I’ll go. To all of it.”

She paused. And then her expression shifted. It was just the kind of shift that only sisters could read. Something behind her eyes softened. That little girl who would cry to me because someone from pre-k stole her toy. That little girl who would always find comfort in me, and I was always there for her. It all just came out in that solo look she gave me.

“Glad you’re here, Mandy.” I spoke so softly, she almost didn’t catch it.

Her smile made everything worth it.

It only took a few hours until she was already doing what she did best: noticing everything. Not just the big things — not the pictures on my bedroom wall, no, those were too easy to spot. Pedro, Bella and Kate in almost all of them.

Mandy noticed the little things. The kind of details I usually thought would go untouched by anyone. But she wasn’t anyone… She was detective Mandy on the case.

“You changed your shampoo,” she said casually as she leaned into the bathroom mirror, using my eyelash curler without asking. “Smells woodsy, and expensive.”

I didn’t answer. She already knew.

She turned and looked at me through the mirror. “Is it his?”

I shrugged, towel-drying my hair. “He uses it, yeah. It’s a nice smell.”

Mandy made a face like she’d caught me red-handed. “You’re using his shampoo.”

“And?”

She didn’t say anything. And honestly? She didn’t need to, that look on her face said it all. And only a sister could get away with it.

By mid-afternoon, I realized she was collecting clues like it was a murder mystery. A pair of socks that were obviously too big for me. A hoodie I didn’t even bother pretending wasn’t his. My laptop wallpaper — a photo of us at his apartment, my head resting on his shoulder, and him kissing the top of my head.

Mandy spotted that one from across the living room, of course.

“Oh my God,” she said, throwing a pillow at me, “you’re so gone for him.”

I ducked and blushed like I was sixteen all over again. “It’s just a nice photo.”

“It’s a photo of a rom-com movie, you guys are the main characters by the way” she said, crossing her arms, “and you’re glowing like hell.”

I tried to play it cool. Failed, obviously.

Later, while she was nosing around the kitchen for snacks, she paused at the magnet on the fridge. It was tiny and plain, shaped like a film clapperboard. The kind of thing you’d miss if you weren’t paying attention. But she paid attention to everything.

“This is new,” she said, tapping it with her finger.

I nodded. “He got it for me. Last week I think.”

“And now it’s here,” she said, eyes narrowing slightly like she was piecing together a puzzle. “Hmm.”

I turned away before she could keep staring at me like that.

But then came the moment I’d been waiting for — the one I was looking forward to the most. I pulled the small box out of the drawer by my bed. It was wrapped carefully in a black paper. He left right before going to the airport to board to L.A a few days ago. Told me not to open it, that it wasn’t for me.

“She’s gonna love it,” he said, that night, smiling to himself. “It’s not big or anything. Just… something I thought of when I saw it.”

I held the box in both hands now and turned to find Mandy curled up on the couch, scrolling on her phone.

“I have something for you,” I said.

She glanced up, eyes curious. “What?”

“It’s from Pedro.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Pedro who… oh, right, the Pedro fucking Pascal”

I rolled my eyes. “Just open it.”

She took the box and sat up, untying the string slowly. “You’re not gonna tell me what it is?”

“Nope.”

She peeled back the paper, opened the box, and went silent.

Inside was a necklace — simple, delicate, a thin silver chain with a small star pendant. Etched on the back was just one word. Luz.

“He said it reminded him of you,” I said quietly. “Because when I talk about you, I always say you’re the light in the room. That you make people feel better just by being around.”

Mandy stared at it, her fingers brushing the charm gently.

“He remembered that?” she asked, voice a little smaller now.

“Yeah.”

She swallowed. “Did you tell him I wanted something to remind me of this trip?”

“No. He just thought of it.”

She looked up at me, eyes glassy, “He doesn’t even know me.”

“He knows me,” I said. “And I think… that’s enough for now.”

Mandy nodded, holding the necklace to her chest like she didn’t want to let it go.

“Okay,” she said, voice steadier now. “I officially approve.”

“Approve of what?”

“Of the fact that you’re stupidly, recklessly, deeply into a man who notices this much about people.”

I laughed, feeling that warmth ripple through me again.

“Also,” Mandy added with a grin, “I’m keeping the shampoo.”

It was one of those rare winter days in Calgary where the sky was so blue it felt like a lie. Mandy had practically shoved me out of bed that morning with a “We didn’t cross half the country to stay inside, or at least I didn’t.” 

Kate was already moving through the kitchen, ready for the day, and making the most delicious pot of coffee for a winter morning.

We moved fast. Mandy was hurrying us all around, because she wanted to enjoy as much as possible before she got too tired — with the small detail that she was almost never tired when it comes to tourist things.

“Okay, but where are we going?” I asked, stuffing gloves into my coat pocket as we locked the door behind us.

“Somewhere cute,” Mandy said.

“Somewhere with hot chocolate,” Kate added, bumping her shoulder against mine. “And somewhere that has at least one moose decoration, because your sister is on a full Canadian fantasy tour.”

We ended up at this little market just outside the city. It had stalls filled with overpriced ornaments, handmade mittens, maple-flavored everything, and a live folk band playing holiday covers of pop songs. Mandy was already halfway through a cinnamon sugar beaver tail before I could even blink.

“I like her,” Kate said, nodding at Mandy with a smile.

“I know,” I said, grinning.

Mandy overheard us. “You know, I like you too, Kate. I didn’t know what to expect, but it’s like… you’re the cool best that grounds this mess of a sister I have.”

Kate beamed. “Well, it’s hard being the best-kept secret of the crew.”

“I know, It must be a burden,” Mandy said, licking her fingers clean. “She’s the worst at lying.”

My brows rose. “Are we talking about me like I’m not here?”

“Kind of,” they said in unison.

It only got worse after that. Every time I said anything, and I mean, anything — they found a way to make it about Pedro, or my love life.

“I’m cold,” I said, following Mandy down the end of the market.

“Bet you wouldn’t be if your boyfriend was here.” Kate said in a mocking tone.

A few minutes later my stomach growled. It was almost lunch time, and I hadn’t eaten much.

“I’m starving.” The comment left my lips before I could think about it.

“Pedro would’ve packed snacks. He looks like a snack-packer.” Mandy teased, her laugh a little too high.

I rolled my eyes.

We stopped at a little tent filled with maple leaf shaped hats. I got one to try it on, and regretted right away.

“Is this hat too much?” I asked

“No, but Pedro would lie and say you looked cute anyway.” Said Kate with a smug smile.

“Okay,” I groaned, dragging my scarf up to hide half my face. “You two are menaces.”

Kate wrapped an arm around me, grinning like the devil on a shoulder. “You love it.”

And truthfully… I did. There was something ridiculously comforting about watching the two of them become fast friends — Kate, with her dry sarcasm and way-too-observant eyes, and Mandy, with her bright energy and no-filter honesty. They fit around me like two puzzle pieces, slipping into the spaces I didn’t realize had been feeling a little empty lately.

When we sat down on a bench with hot drinks, Mandy leaned in and said, “So… how serious are you two?”

Kate looked at me like she also wanted to know.

I blinked at them. “Wow. Zero chill.”

Mandy sipped her hot chocolate. “Answer the question.”

I hesitated, heart doing that annoying flutter it always did when I thought about him for more than five seconds. It’s kind of inevitable now. He was the best part of my days, and I couldn’t even remember my life without him in it. Weird how people can turn your little world inside out in just a matter of time.

“I don’t know,” I said. “It’s… a lot. He is a lot, loud, and so good to me. And maybe it scares me a little how right it feels to be with him.”

Kate nudged my boot with hers. “He’s gone for you.”

“I know,” I said softly.

Mandy smiled like she already knew everything I wasn’t saying out loud. “He’ll be back for Christmas, right?”

“Yeah. He had meetings and fittings in L.A. But he’ll be back before the 24th. We’re invited to his latino Christmas, or whatever it is we’re doing together.”

“Good,” Kate said. “Because I want to see you both being disgustingly in love under twinkle lights.”

“I want to see it snow while you kiss him,” Mandy added, voice dreamy.

“Okay, I’m cutting you both off,” I laughed, standing up with my drink. “No more sugar for either of you.”

They followed me, still grinning, still teasing, and I let them. Let myself be wrapped in the ease of it — in the kind of day you only dream about once or twice. Filled with love, and easy teasing, and a warmth in the middle of a cold winter

He wasn’t here, but he was everywhere. In the way they teased using his name on more times than I can count. In the way I smiled without noticing anytime Mandy or Kate said something that instantly reminded me of him. And also in the way they already saw the parts of him that had quietly stitched themselves into me.

The days with Mandy melted into each other like marshmallows in hot chocolate.

Every morning started the same way: I’d wake up to the sound of her already rummaging through the kitchen, humming something cheerful and off-key, trying to make breakfast with whatever was left in the fridge. She didn’t cook as much as she assembled, like someone running a one-woman buffet of toast, cereal, fruit, and way too many condiments for that early in the morning.

“I made you your favorite breakfast,” she said one morning, presenting me with a single pancake and three pieces of bacon stacked in the shape of Yoda ears. “Just how you used to make it for me.”

I blinked at the plate. “So it’s… Baby Yoda themed?”

“Excuse me, it’s Grogu.”

Right. The best star-wars fan this planet has seen. God forbid I make a mistake about it next to her, and now, next to him too. He warned me about the Baby-Yoda and Grogu thing before he left. And also commented on how Mandy would react to him.

“Just… prepare yourself,” he’d said, laughing, “in case she thinks I’m actually Din Djarin.”

I’d laughed too, but now? Now I was starting to believe she might just lose her shit.

“She’s adorable,” Kate had whispered to me the night Mandy arrived, after they’d exchanged maybe two sentences and my sister had already complimented her earrings, her sweater, and the flat itself. “Also? I think she’s low-key taking over my spot as your platonic soulmate.”

“You’ll share custody,” I’d told her.

And truly, our week was filled with just us three. Jokes, teasing, and this warm environment Mandy brought upon us. She was always singing, laughing or even telling a chaotic long story of how her friend at school got busted for skipping class to go stalk a guy she liked. Kate loved the energy, and would engage in every single story like it was the most interesting thing she ever heard.

I showed her all the pictures I took on set, and even the ones the agents said no to. She was cussing them by the third picture.

“Who in their right mind would say no to this piece of art?” She showed the screen to Kate, asking for supportive words.

“That’s what I’ve been saying” Kate pointed out, agreeing with her completely.

And I just laughed. She didn’t know about all the drama, all the sharp emails I got from Franklin or Sue late at night, thanking me for the photos, but some of them couldn’t pass as “good for PP’s image”.

Pedro always made sure to let me know he had nothing to do with that, but couldn’t stop them. I honestly didn’t care much. We knew it was going to be complicated, and we’re here for it. Staying together even when it gets messy.

By Mandy’s second week here, I was texting him more frequently. The weight of missing his presence was too strong to hold on to. He sent me pictures of costume fittings “So… this is like, top secret, but how good do I look on this new costume?”. Another afternoon and he sent a selfie with Jon Favreau, kissing the guy’s cheek with a description “since I don’t have you here… This will do.” And I laughed so hard, Mandy had to come and see what was happening.

By the fourth day of texting every five minutes, he sent me the video.

I was still lazy scrolling on bed before getting up to start the day. My eyes were still adjusting to the light of my screen. There was no caption, no follow-up text, just his face filling up the screen before he turned the camera to show what he had next to him.

From the second 12 forward I couldn’t stop smiling. 

Grogu was sitting on a crate. Pedro waved first and then, the little green animatronic tilted its head and made a small sound.

Pedro’s voice came from behind the camera, warm and amused. “Hey Mandy,” he said, “someone told me you’re a fan. So I got you a personal greeting from the kid himself.”

He moved the puppet’s arms a little, then made the softest cooing sound again. Just the cutest thing I’ve seen.

“I’m coming back soon,” he added. “Save me some of that breakfast art you made for your sister.”

I had to bite my lip from smiling too hard.

“Mandy!” I yelled from my room. “You’re gonna want to see this!”

She came running, probably from the kitchen, still in my hoodie, hair a mess, blinking against the light when I handed her my phone. Kate peeked out from the door, toothbrush in her mouth.

Thirty seconds later, Mandy was gasping. “No. No. You’re kidding.”

Kate leaned over her shoulder. “Wait. Is that the real—?”

“Actual Grogu,” I said.

My sister played the video at least three more times, then held the phone to her chest like it was sacred. “Tell him I love him. Like, in a ‘thanks for this blessed gift��� kind of way, not in a creepy way. But also tell him I cried. Like, from joy.”

I nodded. “I think he’ll get it.”

That whole second week moved in soft, snowy motions. Mandy calmed down after trying to ice-skate and failed miserably, resulting in a full-on bruise on her left thigh. “Not doing that again.” She said, trying to get up from the ice.

We watched Christmas movies — Kate insisted on a Love Actually rewatch, while Mandy demanded The Holiday and then Die Hard, “because it counts, and I won’t hear otherwise.” We took cheesy pictures in the snow, walked through holiday markets, and drank cheap mulled wine from paper cups — Even the sixteen-year-old had a couple of sips, because I am that kind of sister.

And even though Pedro wasn’t there, he was. In the little updates he sent. The memes that popped up on our instagram chat. His photos from set, and mine from everyday stuff. Notes telling me how much he missed me. 

One afternoon, I went down the reception of our building to grab our mail and there was a box with Mandy’s name on it, from Los Angeles and signed by Din. Of course it was.

I didn’t open, it wasn’t mine. I just brought it up, gave  it to her and admired how happy she was. There was a pair of Mandalorian socks and a signed crew jacket he said she’d love.

“She’s going to marry him before you do,” Kate whispered.

“I heard that!” Mandy shouted from the other room.

December 22nd came. And with it, the restlessness.

Pedro’s flight was either late that night or early the next morning — depending on how things went in LA, and I tried not to check my phone every ten minutes.

I failed miserably.

We were watching Home Alone under the living room blanket fort Kate had helped Mandy build when the little punk caught me checking my phone for a message from him again.

“He’s coming tonight?”

“Should be,” I said, eyes still on the screen.

“You want to pretend you haven’t been checking your phone like a maniac?”

I shot her a look. “You want to pretend you didn’t cry when he made Grogu wave at you?”

Kate cackled beside her, and Mandy just flipped me off.

“You nervous?” she asked more quietly.

“Yes,” I said. “But not in a bad way. I just… I miss him. I’m used to him being here, around us, just whispering dumb jokes to make me laugh in the middle of a set-up. Grabbing my camera bag when he thinks it looks too heavy. Just the small and quiet moments. I didn’t think it was going to feel like this.”

Mandy curled her legs up, warm beside me. “You’re in it.”

“I know.”

My phone buzzed.

I grabbed it so fast I nearly dropped it.

Just landed. Be home soon. Miss you. Pedro P. - 20:05

I stared at the screen.

Mandy looked like she was watching a movie’s emotional climax. She was excited to meet him finally, and nervous in the best way. Kate was having fun with all of it, and I just wanted to hug and kiss him like I’ve been wanting to since he first left.

How was this flight so goddamn long? I remember arriving from Los Angeles a few months back, and it was the easiest thing to go through. Now it feels like I might explode before the wheels even touch the snowy ground of Calgary again.

I was running on no sleep, and just watching the sun shift, vanishing against the clouds. Checked my phone at least twenty times in a span of only three hours. There was no way in hell the airplane in the little screen was moving at all.

It wasn’t even the set I missed. Or the city, or even the friends I made here… It was her. Every single thing about that photographer and the way her eyes lit up whenever she saw me. The way she says my name when is just us together. And the way she keeps stealing pieces of my life to hers — My favorite hoodie, or the t-shirt I used to wear around set, or even my shampoo that had disappeared mysteriously.

In the days apart, I even missed the silence between us. The kind of silence where words weren’t needed. Silence so comfortable I could stay in it forever if she let me.

Lately she didn’t need to speak much at all. I knew it all. Whenever she curled herself around my body — It was a sign for me to hold her tight against me. Or whenever she held the kiss just a little longer — My sign to go for a second or a third kiss.

God, I miss her. And the wait was almost over.

Customs was fine. A little longer. The line for non-residents stretching just enough to make me uncomfortable with the stares people give me. The city was too cold the moment I stepped outside. My scarf was buried somewhere in the bottom of my carry-on and I wasn’t about to stop for it. I climbed into the first cab I could find and gave her address before the driver even asked.

Was it a little reckless? Maybe, but I couldn’t bare to go straight to my place without seeing her first. And I knew she was waiting for me.

I watched the city blur past the window as we drove, half-listening to the snow whisper against the glass. The cab was too warm and the heater whistled like it was struggling just to do the basic. 

I unlocked my phone just as another three messages come through from her.

We're watching a movie in the living room. She’s obsessed with the blanket fort Kate helped her build. Cariño  - 20:38

You don’t have to come tonight, if you’re tired. Cariño  - 20:38

But if you do… knock softly. Cariño  - 20:39

God, I love her.

I texted back with one hand.

I’m five minutes away. Pedro - 20:39

Five minutes felt like a lifetime now.

I’d seen the photos and videos she sent while I was gone — her and her sister wrapped up in blankets, mugs of tea or cocoa, snow painting the windows behind them. Mandy looked like her, the same smile and spark, just brighter and younger. Full of opinions, full of noise, and full of so much love.

It made me happy, and relieved to see her with family again, especially when she’d been so withdrawn in the fall. She needed this. She needed someone who made her laugh until she forgot what was weighing her down. And Kate was in the mix now too, the arguments from the last two months a little forgotten. They were still perfect for each other.

And I’d never admit it out loud, but seeing her glow like that? Seeing that light again, even through a damn phone screen?

It made the two weeks I was away, without her, so damn worth it.

The driver turned the corner onto her street. I leaned forward, recognizing the building before we even stopped. My hands were already on the handle before we pulled in fully. It was so fast, and easy… I grabbed my bag, tipped the driver, and stepped out into the sharp, biting cold. The building looked the same as I remembered — tall, and a mix of vintage with modern architecture. 

I stood outside for a moment. Just looking up. This was important, because I was about to meet another piece of her, in flesh. I’ve talked to Mandy before, but to have her here, it made me nervous without noticing.

I climbed the stairs slowly, even though every part of me wanted to run. Laughter echoed somewhere — muffled behind a wall or a door — but it barely registered. I was hyperfocused. Like walking into a dream I’d been having for the past week.

Once I was in front of her door, my heart started to race against my chest. I raised my hand and knocked gently — just like she’d asked me to. Not even a second later, I heard quick footsteps on the other side. Then the soft click of the lock.

My eyes were filled with her image, and damn… My mind didn’t do her justice. That smile was something out of this world, I swear it took me a moment to fully take a breath. Her hair was slightly messy from a lazy night in. A hoodie too big for her, the sleeves swallowed by her hands a little, and that was one of my favorites that she took the last time she was at my place. Her eyes found mine, sparkling a little. Warm and so inviting. I could tell she hadn’t fully believed I’d show up tonight.

She didn’t say anything and I didn’t wait. The second I could breathe again, I stepped in and found her waist pulling her into my body and crashing my mouth to hers.

Messy kisses full of unspoken words were my favorites. Her fingers caught the lapels of my coat, tugging me in like gravity, like maybe letting go wasn’t an option anymore. She made a sound low in her throat, involuntary and needy, and I swallowed it with my mouth.

Nothing else existed, not the room, not even the stretch of time we’d spent pretending this would get easier.

My hands travelled down from her waist, and then—

“Oh, wow, okay,” Kate’s voice cut through, with a tone halfway between a smirk and a warning. “You two wanna maybe dial it down? Keep it PG friendly? We have a guest.”

I blinked. Pulled back just enough to see behind her.

Kate was sitting on the couch with a half-empty bowl of popcorn. She was grinning like she knew exactly what we’d been up to lately — and Mandy was next to her. Cross-legged, wide-eyed, half-laughing and half trying to hide the way her face was red from seeing her sister with me.

“Oh,” I breathed, suddenly aware I hadn’t even stepped inside properly.

She looked over her shoulder and laughed, hiding her face in my coat for a second like she could reverse time and start over. I kissed the top of her head instead and followed her in.

“Mandy,” she said, turning back toward her sister. “This is Pedro.”

Mandy stood up quickly, all awkward limbs and an instant confidence that wasn’t there before. She stuck her hand out but ended up pulling me into a hug instead. Like she wasn’t even thinking about it.

“You guys are perfect for each other, and she’s so gone for you, like, so fucking gone.”

My girl covered her warm face, laughing. “Oh my God, Mandy—”

“I’m just saying,” Mandy started, sitting back down with a grin, “I saw him in every part of this apartment. You guys are basically staring a rom-com.”

I laughed, rubbing the back of my neck, roughly aware that I was blushing with her words. “Nice to meet you too.”

“You brought me stuff,” she added, like she was trying to change the subject and be thankful all at once. “That little necklace? And that signed jacket from the show? I cried. Legit.”

I felt my girl reached for my hand without even looking. Her thumb rubbed over my knuckles like a reflex. She was happy to see her sister so excited.

“I thought you’d like that,” I said, sitting down with her by my side. “Jon was excited when I told him who it was for.”

Kate raised an eyebrow. “That’s some fancy stuff, could easily sell it for good money on ebay.”

“Never in a million years” Mandy said slowly and I felt my girl laughing

“She’s my little Star Wars nerd,” She said proudly.

“Not little, I’m a massive one,” Mandy added, grabbing a pillow to hug against her chest. “I’m still not over that Grogu video. I showed it to like four people already. Pedro, you have no idea—”

“I have some idea,” I said with a smile. “Your sister showed me your hoodie collection.”

She groaned. “I told you that in confidence!”

Kate snorted.

The room felt like home. The kind that came with laughter you didn’t have to force, and warmth you didn’t have to earn. The lights were low, the fort still stood in the corner with twinkle lights wrapped around it, and the TV had paused on some animated movie I hadn’t seen in years.

I’d only been gone a week. But walking into this, and to be a part of it like I was a missing piece of the puzzle, it felt so damn right. I was focused on the feeling of missing her, that only now I let myself be a part of it like I belonged.

I felt her body lean into me again. My arm found her waist without even thinking about it. She was warm and her smell was everywhere.

“Welcome back,” she whispered, only loud enough for me.

I turned my head, pressed a kiss just under her jaw, and whispered back, “It’s good to be back.”

After a while they all voted on Five Guys, which really meant me complaining about being hungry, and offering the fastest and the most delicious solution. Kate and Mandy jumped right on immediately. Mandy lit up when she heard I was paying for the milkshakes.

“Don’t tip too much,” I heard her saying to Kate as they walked down the hallway, leaving me and Mandy by ourselves. “Last time you tipped more than the food cost—”

“Support your workers!” Kate yelled back before the door clicked shut behind them.

Silence.

It settled weirdly after how loud and chaotic everything had been just seconds before.

Mandy was still curled up on the couch, legs pulled to her chest, flipping through something on her phone, but I could feel her watching me. She was curious, I could tell there was a lot going through her mind. And it’s weird how far she’d come since we first talked.

Back then she hardly said a word to me without shaking like she was speaking to a god. We’ve only spoken the basic. Even when I asked her to deliver my gift to her sister back on her thirtieth birthday.

I sat back against the cushions. Relaxed, mostly. Until Mandy spoke so softly I could barely make up what she was saying.

“You really like her, huh?”

I looked over.

She didn’t look smug. Just… like she already knew the answer and wanted to hear me say it anyway.

“I do,” I said with a shy smile.

She nodded. “She’s different lately.”

“Good different?”

“The best kind.” She gave a small shrug. “She’s always been kind of—” Mandy paused just enough to organize what she was about to say “Tense. Like she’s always holding her breath a little. You know? Even before all the shit with our dad or my brother. It’s just how she is. But now—”

She stopped again, furrowed her brow.

“She’s softer,” she said. “Like she forgets to be mad at the world sometimes. Or she just… forgets to be on guard all the time. It’s weird.”

“Weird good?”

She looked at me for a second longer, and the grin came with a nod.

“Yeah. Weird good.”

I smiled. “She’s been that way with me since the first day. I don’t know why. I didn’t do anything to earn it.”

“Exactly,” Mandy said, waving a hand. “You didn’t try. I think that’s what did it.”

I let that settle.

She knew her sister so well. It’s almost scary how much. The description Mandy just gave on how her sister worked around, the walls she had when we first met... Not the kind of walls people put up on purpose. This was different, the kind that grow with need, like survival. And yet, somehow, with me, she’d let them fall. Just little pieces, like she was testing if I’d notice whenever there was a shift. And I did, of course I did.

“I like you,” Mandy added, the type of confession of a person who wasn’t sure she was going to say it until the words were already out. “I mean, you’re older and famous and whatever, so I should probably be skeptical, right?”

I raised a brow. “Were you? skeptical?”

“Not really,” she smirked. “But I thought about it for like… five seconds.”

I laughed at that. The girl was funny without even trying.

Then she leaned forward a little, more serious now.

“But then I saw how she talks about you. Even when she’s not talking about you.”

I tilted my head trying to read in between the lines. “What does that mean?”

“She’s happy. That’s what it means.”

Simple as that, she’s happy. Even with all the drama with her father, even with her twin almost giving up, and leaving her no choice but to pick up the pieces and try again until it worked. Even with the job that was so consuming, and tiring… Even with all the bad things around—she was happy.

“She deserves happy,” I said.

“Yeah,” Mandy said. “And you make her feel safe. Which I think she didn’t even realize she needed.”

We didn’t say anything after that for a while. Just let it sit between us. The truth of two people that loved one girl so much, they’d do anything to make her happy every single day. The sisterly bond was so strong with them, it made my chest ache in a good way.

The elevator dinged out in the hallway a few minutes later, and I heard that laugh — unmistakable and bright — followed by Kate’s dramatic monologue about milkshake flavors.

Mandy stood up and walked to the door before I could. But before she could open it, I felt a shift in her, protective as hell and ready to tell me off if I say something wrong.

“Don’t mess it up,” she said, smirking.

I put a hand to my chest. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good.” She grinned. “Because I really like that hoodie she stole from you, and I want her to keep it.”

The lock turned, and the door opened with a tud. She stepped inside first, her cheeks pink from the cold, balancing two bags with one hand. “Okay, fries are on the verge of getting soggy, and Kate is still mad I said no to the Cajun ones—”

She stopped, eyes landing on me. That same look she always had on her when she didn’t believe I chose her. Even when I told her that the lucky one in this relationship was me, to be chosen by her when she could have any other guy her age.

I got up, smiled back, already reaching for the bags, and she let me.

Somewhere behind us, Mandy tossed me a wink and headed toward the fridge for ketchup.

We were in this, it was messy but it is ours. And to share this special connection we have with her loved ones, that’s the real deal for me. 

I was so goddamn lucky, it was hard to believe.

[darkness-ren]

Chapter 1

1st Person POV

The year, 1989, Hill Valley, California

As the (h/c) short haired woman, wearing a red jumper jacket with Pepsi logo shirt and blue pants with white old sneakers, has climbed into the driver seat. Close the door shut as it slid down. Having herself get comfortable as she turns on the engine.

While two male were outside in the empty parking lot.

The same Twin Pine Mall as before, today it's second test drive to see if the new upgrade on the DeLorean’s main fuel then the radioactive since it causes issues, and also new time circuits on good locations on where both (Y/N) and the DeLorean are at now. It was requested by the youngest McFly’s wishes since she was curious on where exactly they are in the time period, and city or country. If it stays running then does out when she and Marty first travel back into 1955.

And rewrite the history of Dr. Emmett Brown’s life save and their parents' marriage becomes healthier than before.

Like an act of True Love.

Marty felt uneasy about having to watch his twin sister willing to be the driver for the second test drive, and how Einstein, the dog, isn't feeling well. With an upset stomach for having a whole load of wet dog food.

“Doc, are you sure about this?” He asked the scientist man.

“Yes, Marty.” Doc said but faced at him,

“She insisted on doing this.” he said while looking at his controller, all set, and ready. If by chance it might cause some troubles. But he has faith in the young McFly, unlike her older twin brother. As much Doc considered her doing this but she agreed saying she needed some excitement like old times.

So, he agreed but only if he built a remote controller, so he could call it off.

This headstrong young adult insisted on going into the DeLorean, and hopefully got a chance to see what it was like 4 years, then staying around her older sister, talking about her supposed dates she had been with, different men.

It wasn’t like she was against her sister’s choices on dating, like polygamous. Only hope she might find happiness in her own choice as a woman, without toxicity freaks.

But few people around town were negatively talking smack as if they were better.

The McFly youngest does some sarcastic words against them like a rapper roasting you in front of the audiences, if they dare hurt her older sister’s feelings like that. She would do anything for her three older siblings to insure their happiness and choices even if she was always the innocent one. But within, she’s savage with a sassy attitude.

Her parents believe she wouldn't harm a fly…unfortunately she does.

(Y/N) kinda envy her sister being prettier then her.

So, she dressed a lot like her twin brother, Marty. And did have interest in singing whenever she’s alone. As private singing lessons in the garage or the school choir classroom that her teacher allowed her to use, out of kindness.

Her voice was alright but from what her mom and her dad said, it was so beautiful they made them feel as if they were teenagers again.

How her voice brought emotions, the memories, and hope as if she was meant to sing in front of the crowd, but she prefers not so but only around her parents.

But (Y/N) kinda feels a bit better when her parents said they love her singing.

Never she sang in front of her older siblings, like she would be called like a crow was choking out hairballs.

Guess, after a few changes around the McFly family it turns out better.

Her dad became a famous author, her mom looked a lot healthier not drinking, her older brother is a big time lawyer.

While, herself, isn’t all changeable like the others, since she went on adventure with Marty and past Doc. Fixing the parent’s love life, and going back home in 1985 once again.

That was the most exciting thrill she ever found enjoyable.

Today, she hopes to maybe see the future or the past, so she would feel less bored. And not having a certain overprotective brother prevented her from wanting to do something, as time travel with Doc, as her supportive friend.

After what happened with their dad’s old bully, Biff Tannen almost tried going after her like a new interesting toy he could have harassed.

Marty managed to get this guy off her back whenever he’s around. Like a bodyguard.

But lucky she did knuckle punch Biff’s nose directly when he touched her without her consent.

It made her scared that someone like him exists. She hates him deeply for what he did for almost assaulting her mom outside of highschool dance parking lot, if her dad hasn’t come to recuse. And defeat her mom’s honor like noble knight.

She felt responsible for not being there while she was with Doc, fixing the DeLorean.

Now, it was four years ago, she hopes to change her life around, and not be scared anymore.

“Are you ready?” She heard Doc shout out to her from outside of the car. She rolled down the window,

“Ready whenever you are?” she shouted back. Then back away from the window as she rolls it up, getting ready.

Soon the white haired man nodded, started to move the sliver flicks on slowly as the numbers went up to 20, powering while the (h/c) haired woman quickly put on her seat belt. She feels childish when she forgets to put on her seat belts. And other things.

Marty and Doc were concerned about how the DeLorean’s remote controller was powering up to speed rate into high numbers over 80 that quick?

It had twin brother seemed a lot worried when the numbers were going up, “We should stop this.” he said.

Doc seemed a bit concerned but decided on calling this test field off. Just as he was about to call for the girl. Both of his hands felt burned when he accidentally dropped the controller. The red switches were flipped, as the car drove itself into high speed.

Doc and Marty both felt worried that something was going wrong.

The scientists tried to grab the controller, but it burst into pinkish purple flames.

Marty and Doc couldn’t believe what sort of fire was this? But suddenly they heard lighting cracking as they looked up, seeing the Delorean…..drove into a big bang flash…then (Y/N) McFly was no longer in the present of 1989.

Marty started to panic that his baby sister was gone in insisted while Doc rushes to the truck to grab the fire extinguisher before the controller might be completely destroyed, And the young girl’s location is their only source on where she could possibly be at, hopefully safe.

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“Finally…A time traveler has reached this time present. As I hope for…”

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“Here our voice unwavering,

Till our song defeats the night.

Making fear afraid to breathe

Till the dark meets the lights!”

The voice of angel sings across from the distant stadium, until an white bang flash, revealing the DeLorean driving in high speed through the tunnel as it drives into the busy freeway while the certain driver was dodging the other cars.

“How’s it done, done, done!

Run, run we run town!

Whole world playing our songs!”

Its car was still in flames. In the purple-ish pink flames until it change back into orange colors.

Soon it turned on a different route from being on the freeway, few demons screamed when this sudden flaming car appeared out of nowhere while they quickly hid into the shadows.

“Turnin’ up, it’s going down!

Huntrix show this

How it's done, done, done!”

While few demons were running towards the darkest alley, an male with black traditional Korean clothing with their yellow hues with black cat-slit pupils glow, as he spotted this flame vehicle that appeared out of nowhere. He smirks, that he seem to find something much useful to his bidding,

“This is a lot interesting..” he said, then walked in the dark alley.

“We hunt you down, down, down

We got you now, now, now”

The DeLorean vehicle drives through the empty parking lot as it does a drifting moves all around circle, as the wind breezes out the flames, then the tires squeal hard onto the road as it was on brakes. Stopping it while the car was still running.

“We show how, how, how!”

Huntrix don’t miss.

How it's done, done done!”

As the blueish green barrier spread across the entire city even the DeLorean, but the color changed into golden colors?

The driver did not realizing what sort of unknown wave hit the car just as the door slid open, (Y/N) got out of the car, seeing the entire area whole lot different, not to mention the vibe felt off. Isn’t Hill Valley anymore.

She stepped away from the car while observing the area, but it looks like she was on the very high hill away from the city that she took herself out of the road, but luckily she managed to find this parking lot empty when she drove here.

“I guess I pass my driving test..” she mumbled. But she hurries towards the driver seat, to check the time circuit, only to see it not on?

Quickly she climbed into the seat, turning on the engine, but it only saw it not be able to start on the engine,

“Crap..” she said. Then hits the dashboard. As nothing had happened, she was totally lost. Not knowing what year she is nor the location. But she couldn’t do anything if it was getting dark on checking on the car, she’ll wait until morning. Hopefully the toxboxes were in the back of the trunk.

She closed the door shut, having it on locked mode that she managed to insert by Doc’s assistance in case people might take the DeLorean.

Marty thought it was no need, but she knew few things about new things. And how he could forget once it was stolen without Doc and herself knowing who took it until they came back to different 1985 period.

Shady people will steal no matter if it was brand new or used, because one of the neighbors had their car window broken with all radio stations.

Sometimes she wonders if he was the youngest instead of her, only by 2 minutes.

Leaning herself against the seat pillow, but had her jacket being used as a blanket for tonight until her stomach growled softly.

She moan tiredly,

“Come on. I’ve just got comfy.” she said to herself. But has no choice but to maybe find a local convection store, or maybe a snack binding machine, hopefully a soda machine as well.

The 80’s (h/c) haired woman gotten herself out of the DeLorean, grabbing her skateboard and her backpack with her items and wallet. Not before putting the car on locked mode, only by her passcode she could access it.

Just as she skate herself down hill, feeling the cool breeze as she sight searching for any stores or binding machine around.

“Please. let there be pepsi around here..” she says to herself while roading her skateboard.

An certain blue creature and an bird wearing adorable hat, spotted an really strange with (h/c) hair human had passing by from the bushes, even an friendly large blue tiger was interest in someone’s wheel board.

As the (h/c) haired woman stop her board, kicked her board into her hand as she held it, finally she finds binding machine outside. Until her (e/c) hues noticed that the language on the price, isn’t English. It had her groan disappointedly.

“NOOO!!” She cried, hit her forehead against the window. She wanted to sob but can’t at the moment, when she never took any language classes in highschool to learn different language. Now, she is regretting it on not being prepared for anything except her secret skills.

(Y/N) definitely knows she is somewhere in Asia, but what part capital, in case, if she mistaken it for something that people might think she was stupid.

Which, she is clearly is, at the moment.

As she remove her backpack, unzip it as she grab out her wallet, check to see it was in all cash? She doesn’t remember when she got this much money,

“God bless Doc..” she thanked the friendly but crazy scientist man. As she count the money, only 9 hundred dollars, but wonders how this man managed to get this kind of cash?

She grabbed only one hundred dollar bill as she put away the money and her wallet into her backpack, having her skateboard in her hand still.

“I hope this might be acceptable..” she says while about to walk, but saw something inside of cashier area?

An man was smiling creepy at the confused foreigner woman, as soon she walked in.

“How may I help you?” he asked. In English? She thank the heavens for having to find an native speaker around this unknown place.

(Y/N) show him the money,

“Could I use this to buy anything?” she asked curious.

The man nodded too fast, “Why yes, miss!” he said.

She clap her together,

“Thank you so much, sir!” she said then hurried to the soda fridge, grabbing three bottle of her favorite soda into skateboard like a cafeteria tray, then into the snack ranks. Seeing so many choices, but she got to at least take maybe three then four, but which flavour.

While she was looking at the snack, not knowing that same creepy cashier was staring at her. As she grabbed two chips but they were hot flavor while the other was salty. Then she grabbed this strange pluff treat which got her curious on trying it out.

(Y/N) grabbed an plastic wrapped sandwich, she thinks.

But walked towards the cashier to buy for her stuff. As she place her items onto the table from her skateboard, while this man seem staring at her,

“It’s 20.67..” he said with really creeper smile.

She slid the money onto the table-

He grabbed her wrist tightly, “Finally, a me-”

An skateboard slammed against this man’s face, hard.

"Keep the change, asshole..” (Y/N) said as she walking out the store with white bags of her stuff, like boss. And also how she caught his forearm full of purple tattoos? And his face was wearing an really disturbing features, that she might have nightmares for weeks now.

Other than that, she just left the guy knocked out, cold.

Not gonna be bother if he’ll call the cops on her.

She return back to the DeLorean, she seat on the hood of the car, eating her sandwich and one of the salty chip, with an refreshing soda beverage near her side that she loved more than anything. As she view the entire city with her (e/c) eyes. As this city was so beautiful that she felt like she first witness this unknown discovery like a adventurer.

How the the lights around the city felt like she was seeing whole bunch of different colored stars.

“Marty would love this…” She mumbled while taking another bite of her sandwich, still staring at the city to cherish this into her mind.

But she wish to have bring her camera with her.

“CAW!”

She jumped from the hood. Turn her attention to this bird. Wearing a tiny hat?

This had the McFly girl confused by this?

“CAW!!”

All three sets of eyes appeared on its neck.

(Y/N) wanted so badly to scream, but she slowly move away from this bird while her hand reaches for her skateboard from the ground.

But it was it being held by very huge blue paw??

“AAHHHHHH!!!”

Immediately she jumped inside of the DeLorean, slammed the car door hard, then locked herself in. Her widen (e/c) eyes stared at this really blue tiger, moving her skateboard as it was trying to skate it while the bird was, who fly onto the car hood… then turned it head towards her through the window, looking all amusement in it bitty eyes?

(Y/N) was observing this huge cat’s behavior.

Lot cute in a scary way, but doesn’t know if it might eat her once she lets her guard down.

As for the bird, it was declared a little shit to enjoying her scary expression.

But, she kinda felt bad while this supposed friendly blue tiger was only playing with her skateboard, with it huge paw.

The (h/c) haired woman unlock the door as she slowly pull up the door, while this tiger didn’t seem to pay attention to her, so it was safe. Carefully she sit down on the hood of the car, quietly eats her sandwich while looking at the blue tiger, it was carefully flipping her board. Slowly, which had her smiling.

The bird fly onto her head, getting itself comfortable on her (h/c) hair locks. Didn’t bother on it but tried to finished her food. How this night so got interesting.

An weird six eyed bird with cute hat along with this adorable blue tiger who was liking her skateboard as it own toy. Sadly she might go to local skateboard shop to buy new skateboard.

Suddenly the blue tiger was in front of her, which she thinking her final prayers,

But it split something out of it mouth, as the book landed on her lap with saliva.

It had (Y/N) groan under disgust by how wet and slimy this book is, but noticed the covered, it was Korea Language textbook, for kids?

“I find this..” She was about to say something sarcastic but hold it in since this widen eye tiger was looking at her, for approval, “Sweet of you.” she said with smile.

Then it lick her face, purring while she was touch but also cold bit.

She petting it’s forehead as it close it eyes under her touch.

The bird roll it eyes but enjoys being in someone’s head for change.

(Y/N) McFly’s adventure has seem to begin, not knowing what awaits for her if she might survive this timeline, the future..

“Oh yeah, what year this is?” She asked both of the spirits animals. The blue tiger cough out of wet newspaper, she grab it, seeing the date…..

“Crap, I can’t read this word..” she said.

Then the blue tiger split out a small box of phone? In plastic wrapped?

She thought, but opened carefully as she grabbed out this strange device, but it looked like a phone,

“Okay…did you rob some phone store? And library?" She asked this blue tiger.

All it did was staring at her. She sighs exhausted, but started on trying to figure out how to use this cell phone.

After a few complications on working with this cell phone, she noticed a bar search called Google, clicked. Then click on the google lens.

Accidentally she has the google len faced on the newspaper, as everything was translated into English. It had her (e/c) eyes widened under curiosity on so many words she understood but spotted the date.

She almost dropped her brand new cell phone,

“I’m so way ahead of the future…” she mumbled while the blue tiger kept on staring at this time traveler female, but looked at the tiger and the six-eyed bird from above her head,

“We’re friends?” she said out of the blue.

The bird let out sighs while the tiger….licked her once again.

Guess she's gonna stick with two unusual animals for possibly for a while until she gets the DeLorean up and running again. But, for now, she's gonna come up with a plan on where to hide the DeLorean at different locations, in case it might get towed away or stolen if she isn't around.

The chances of anyone taking it could use the time machine and change the entire history timeline, what Doc always said,

“The importance of not being seen…” She could hear his words echoing in her head when she and Marty went back to 1955, and lost her older brother.

(Y/N) looked at the blue tiger, it was still staring at her not to mention the bird was already asleep, “I wonder if maybe supernatural counts of not being seen?...” She mumble until the bird peck her head hard,

“Ouch! You’re ass!”

“CAW!”

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Back in 1989, Hill Valley, California

“Where is she. Doc?” The brown haired man asked his elderly scientist friend on where his twin sister is at now. What time period is she located at.

While Doc was checking on new device that he and (Y/N) invented after almost 3 years since the clever girl prefers on having another device called the Time-Locations shown on where the DeLorean is currently at if it does been used on itself.

As he saw it was nearly built, but without (Y/N)’s help. It was incomplete,

“I’m afraid it not done.” Doc said worried while he hurries himself to the garage to find the blueprints and the toolbox while Marty grabbed his hair in panic attack.

His twin sister gone, how in the hell could he explained to his mom and dad that their youngest child is permanently gone.

And how he felt bad for trying to prevented her from taking this experiment test on using the DeLorean.

But in the end, they fought with hurtful words, how he said that very last words, he started to cry quietly.

“Please be safe, (n/n)...” he said as he prays for her safety, somewhere out in the future or the past, he just hope she’ll find way to come back home.

If only there were two time machines, then he would definitely go after her, and apologies for what he said.

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In the underworld, 2025

The massive purplish pink flames seem quiet while five of his demons were in front of it,

“Before you boys leave, I managed to have this time vehicle be sent here as backup if the plans fails.”

It says while the leader was quiet but knew what he was talking about,

“now, it being protected by the Golden Honmoon. So I couldn’t no longer teleport it to the underworld.”

it said angry that he almost possessed the time machine vehicle, if only that golden energy hasn’t interfere with everything.

“If the hunter success on sealing the Honmoon. I need one of you to find this driver and their car. So, I could travel on rewriting history of the Honmoon and the original hunters.”

It said with smirked through the flames. All the Demon King could do, was to possessed the body, meaning this driver will died then the golden energy will faded.

“Jinu?”

The man in black gat, raise his head up to his master,

“I will hand you this task. Bring them here, so I could possess their body. In case, your plan failed.”

It said.

Jinu nodded,

“Yes, sir..” he said, knowing that this unknown time traveler had this power that way beyond Gwi-Ma’s powers, meaning this person is far an threat but also salvation on fixing things. Like any pasts in the time period.

As it had gift to do such thing, traveling whatever you go, and see all history that were record in books.

It made Jinu feel rage but also envy how this person could fix anything in the past with that car.

But he couldn’t do anything if he already made an promise to his master, Gwi-Ma, on erasing his memories for good.

Maybe he could ask for favor-

“In reward if you do success on the harvest, destroy the Honmoon.”

It speak with all five of the demons wonder what he might say?,

“I let all five of you boys have fair share on taking this time traveler’s soul.”

They felt their mouths drool on how they were allowed to take an soul of this driver.

Not like they would care but might imagine how this soul might tasty once they success on doing the harvest ritual and destroying the Honmoon.

They hope to find this driver, and this car before the hunters might discover this plan B.

As for Jinu, he hopes to scare this guy so they could see their fear expression so they could enjoy their terrifying expression once he and others felt it was time, to suck this time travel's soul into their throat. They wonder if the soul was sweet?

Now, all five demons have motivated to truly succeed on completing their mission, for an fair reward that awaits them.

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A Week Later

The (h/c) haired woman was reading the book inside of the car seat with the door wide open to feel the fresh air while her friendly blue tiger, Bluey, was sleeping near the edge of the car while the six eyed bird named Magpie, was asleep in the front seat.

She was assist on staying with them, like strange roommates. But, she was homeless now, on how she lives in the car.

The DeLorean.

But lucky for her, there was public bathroom and some sink for her to washes herself as best as she could, but does wash her hair in best conditions.

The motels were a bit expensive, and the owner only spoke Korean, She had no choice but to remind in the car as the trailer was sorta like.

That was her biggest problem, so she works hard on learning Korean, and keeping the DeLorean at her sight. At any cost.

Her $800 budgets were low around $350.

She consider on finding job real soon, just where?

Sudden she heard her stomach growl, closed her book with marked page.

(Y/N) groan sadly, “I just ate my last sandwich..” she said to herself. Looked at Bluely, who was still asleep then thought of something. Quickly she get out of the car, but cautious to not disturb the blue adorable tiger, and the six eyed demon bird.

She decide on do something on making the DeLorean on look normal as best as she could.

“Thank God, I learn how to mechanic on this baby before.” She said while opening the trunk of the car, now she had removed few parts, except the time circuits and the Flaux comparators.

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In the Seoul city, an local market store,

The friendly manager man exited out the building with two brown bags that were fill with some snacks and his relaxing stuff product since last night at the stadium when Rumi’s voice seem be bit crack in the vocal core when they were making live music. So, it was canceled, by his request.

He just hope she was alright, if not then he will understand.

Unlike the rest of fans were disappointed and mostly angry. As he walks while holding the bags, he seem exhausted but mostly worried on what will happens next. Then suddenly he felt this instincts as he was like being watch from somewhere but he hurries himself to get out of the side walk street. He hopes it wasn’t an angry screaming fans anywhere near by.

Not knowing he was being surround by huge demon as the size of T-rex, was targeting him.

As they reached their claws out, coming towards him-

An distant roar of familiar vehicle was approaching behind that large demon including the manger. As his brown eyes spotted the car coming up fast. He sequel in panic that he dropped the box, covering his eyes…

Until he heard the tires squeal?

“Get in, sir!”

He opened his eyes, seeing the driver, wearing an spiderman masked, looking bit like homeless person because of their clothes wrinkled black jeans and the shoes lot dirtier?

But he noticed the gray tank top with the hard rock logo, looks bit as feminine,

“what?” he asked in worried tone.

“Sir, there riot of angry mob. ” The voice sounded like feminine. But he quickly grabbed his box and jump into the front seat taking this stranger advice. While unknown the demon was roaring in fear but in enrage. That this hunter was taking away it meal.

As soon the DeLorean’s doors were shut, locking both of them in as soon the driver droves off backwarders, away from the creature while the screaming manger who clutches the box that this lady’s driving skills while the mysterious driver could be bother on anything but find road to get away from this demon.

The T-rex demon went on charging for the fast DeLorean.

The DeLorean quickly turned itself around as the driver was facing the road in their sights, still pressuring the gas peddle as she continue drive more faster than before.

She couldn’t help but feel afraid. Not knowing what to do if this huge ass demon was definitely gonna eat her and the man’s soul once it catches them.

Their (e/c) eyes kept looking at the review mirror of the car, seeing that huge ass demon was running a bit fast.

As soon she decided to turn on the radio with the bluetooth speaker on, with their phone connected as it play an very familiar song of guitar playing had her shoulders relax, as if everything is gonna be okay, somehow she felt like she must do this very thing. And hopes that she might be confident to do so. The masked woman pulled up her mask bit, revealing her mouth only with faded mole on her left corner of the (l/c) lip,

“Hope you enjoy old school music, sir.” She said in english then korean.

He faced her with the surprise looked.

The demon was trying reach the driving DeLorean until the bright golden energy swirling around the car, as protection for the almost victims into safer barrier.

Quickly the demon move it hands away from it as it felt their hand were burning through the massive heat temperature,

“what the?” it said in confused,

As she made an sharp turned into the empty alley as soothing turn while the tires sequel against the road, driving more speed than ever, it felt nice to her,

“Welcome to the jungle, We got fun and games

We got everything you want, honey, we know the names.”

While driving in high speed, the DeLorean was changing it colored into angel aura quartz colored while she sings her voice out with an audiences who looked surprised. How it sound like an old rock song,

“We are the people that can find whatever you may need

If you got the money, honey, we got your disease.”

“Its a jungle, welcome to the jungle (Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah)

Watch it bring it to your n-n-n-n-n-n-n-n knees, knees

Oh, I, I wanna see you bleed”

The manger felt the vibration from the female voice as it relaxes him, somewhat while they driving in high speed chase. The demon roars more loudly as this car-

No, this hunter has new upgrade weapon as car?

It make it more angry that it was definitely gonna rip this driver hunter into pieces. It follow the car, not gonna get easy scared by something isn’t weaponable.

“Welcome to the jungle, we take it day by day

If you want you’re gonna bleed but its the price to pay

And you’re a very sexy girl, and very hard to please

You can taste the bright lights but you won’t get there for free.”

She arrived into the street as she dodges these busy cars, once again while constructing on herself and man alive, her voice felt as if it was telling her to keep on singing no matter what.

Turn the DeLorean into different route of the road, see some cars but none were quick as she drove pass them as fast as she could, some people were surprise when the interesting car looked lot amazing. Some took pictures or video recording it then posts on all their social medias.

“In the jungle, welcome to the jungle

Feel my, my, my serpentine

Oh, I, I wanna hear you scream.”

As almost 50 viewers saw the photo of the DeLorean, it made them screams in either frighten but mostly excited. The 50 viewers becomes more into 70 viewers.

Hot flash news that everyone were getting excited by this post.

They clicked on share screen, liking it all hearts, or comment on how crazy this driver is, in total positive way.

While some demon spotted but hides in fear except for certain huge demon, not knowing what this supposed car possessed.

“Ow

Oh, ah, ah

Ah,

Ah, ah, ah”

The manger scream in happiness while grabbed out his phone, does an live stream,

“I’m so on crazy ride, you guys!” he said, but has his phone faced the driver. But she spotted something coming up. She does curves drive as she carefully tried to not hit anything while speeding it more.

And must keep her voice in steady vocal while noticing how the DeLorean was glowing around her?

“Welcome to the jungle, it gets worse here everyday

You learn to live like an animal in the jungle where we play

If you got a hunger for what you see, you’ll take it eventually

You can have anything you want, but you better not take it from me.”

An girl with black hair styled in twin braided buns with micro-bangs and fringe locks, with yellow fluffy hat, grabbed out her phone from her jacket pocket, then click on her tik tok app. To find herself some distraction from what happened today.

Her eyes widen on what she was seeing on first video while two of her bandmates were thinking of plans to eliminate the demon boy bands,

“Uh, you guys?” She said.

Both faced at her as she shown them her phone screen of their manger, doing live stream with million of hearts, kisses, thumbs and care popping up like crazy, even comment on how hot this driver’s voice is.

They heard a distant roar? They quickly hurried themselves on finding this threat, the demon that has appeared but from where. They hope their manager will be safe.

“In the jungle, welcome to jungle

Watch it bring you to your sha-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-

Na-knees, knees

Mwah, I’m gonna watch you bleed.”

The demon leader and his four bandmates were at their high penthouse since the show seem an total flawless, they were close on gaining more fans. And soon enough, everything will be simple and easy. The leader approach the window, noticed this t-rex size demon was here? Angry at what?

But what caught his eyes, was this glowing that was behind in one of the buildings.

The same colors as hunters’ colored energies. He put the pieces together, this was the driver that Gwi-Me brought from the past.

“Jinu?” The male with short magenta hair asked, but he spotted this glowing somewhere in the city. He tries to see on where this glow was appearing at.

“I know…its him.” Jinu said, trying to not clutch his fist, but watch how this plays out for this new hunter. If this hunter appeared to his very brown eyes.

“You mean her?” Another pink heart-shaped haired male said, he was looking at his phone, seeing the live stream along with the teal-haired demon.

How both of them were hearing the voice sounded a lot like feminine, with hint of deep but seduction vocal how her singing hints the chorus.

Meaning this driver was a woman.

Obviously.

“And when you’re high, you never

Ever want to come down,

So down, so down, so down

Yeah, ow.”

Soon the entire people from across Asia where wondering who was this mysterious driver, singing like that was absolutely breath taking. Some were already fangirling, others were crying by the voice that it brought raw emotions as if they felt it. But did like how powerful this driver’s voice is.

They were bringing the 80's back to the present.

Soon the DeLorean arrived at the freeway, it was clear but still there were hardly any cars? Lucky she thank the heavens while press onto gas into more speed, the demon slammed it fist into the ground as the entire world felt this strange earthquake?

But she couldn’t do anything but this beast might break the entire road. And possible millions of people were getting scared if this big bastard will harmed the innocent souls.

She switch the gear into reserved as the car swirls around, as the car was facing it.

But, she was facing directly at this huge demon. It was smirking evilly while she press on the brakes, stopping the DeLorean from moving.

She reach the red button, as she press it.

“You know where you are?

You’re in the jungle, baby

You’re gonna die.”

The tires were on blue glow, the vehicle was floating with the new upgraded tires that certain scientist have left in truck, for special casual. He also spoken that he had travel into the future, the year 2015.

“Thanks for the new tires, Doc..” she whispers softly while the manger was still fangirling over what gonna happened next. He was wondering what sort of equipment this woman has in her car.

Soon, she press on the gas as the car was driving faster then somewhat speed like hyper drive, as the DeLorean was actually flying. Not that she has anytime to explain but eliminate this bastard.

The manger was screaming, “Oh my god! What happening?” He asked in english while still live streaming,

“In the jungle, welcome to the jungle

Watch it bring you to your sha-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-

Na-knees, knees.”

The demon started to get scared on how this strange car was flying? Straight at them, it begin to grow fear while the angel aura glowed was becoming lot brighter. It tried to retreated away,

In the jungle, welcome to the jungle

Feel my, oh my, my, my serpentine

Jungle, welcome to the jungle

The DeLorean was flying more speed, that everyone from across the world were looking at their phones more closely on how this driver managed to fly in the air?

With what support? Could an helicopter might have done this stunt?

Watch it bring you to your sha-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-

Na-knees, knees.”

While the three girls were panicking over their manger’s life at stake in the live steam broadcast. They spotted this huge demon from the rooftops as they appear but it was facing at the flying car? "Bobby?!" They shouted in his name in fear.

“Down in the jungle, welcome to the jungle

Watch it bring it you to your

The five boy bands were also watching this reckless driver driving into the air with that mortal man on the front seat. How they were able to see it at both the penthouse window and their phones.

Sadly, for this unfortunate man. But now, they might get the driver's soul early for the feast-

Its gonna bring you down

Huh!”

Soon….the DeLorean went through this massive demon, like it touched this beast as sword slaying, it screams in pain then become of pink cofiacci with pink smoke, that this driver has official eliminated this demon, With their own car.

The demon boys felt bit scared on what they witness. And this driver, the time traveler is more serious threated to their master.

“Holy shit, this chick kill it with their car..” The light teal haired demon said while his friend with pastel lavender nodded in agreement. They were able to see it from the window rather than the phones in their hands.

How this demon men felt shocked by what they saw, while their leader. Punch the window, hard it crackled.

"Dude?" The same magenta short hair man said. Trying to give his leader a warning from trying to destroy anymore stuff in the penthouse

The straight black hair was planning to drain this driver’s soul without regret.

The girls let out a sigh of relives that their manger was okay from this stunt. But was he doing an movie?

Hopefully it was that, and nothing else.

“Call Bobby.” the girl with cap and her glasses, asked while trying to remain calm after seeing what she and her two friends witness.

This driver was hunter, like them. But why they haven’t been introduced or even heard of until now.

Soon the DeLorean was now on the soiled ground, driving normally, as she faced the manger as she prepared to ask for the location where she dropped him off, safety.

“Wait a mintues…” (Y/N) said but faced at the man, who was pointing his phone at her, “Huh…what are you doing?”

“What your name?”

“Victoria Eastwood…”

(Y/N) decide on using fake name, hopefully this guy would buy it while she focus on the road, he told her the address on where she could drop him off. Plus, she was glad that he spoken english lot perfectly. So, she hopes after this, she wouldn’t encounter him.

Since she must not get attached to anyone if she gonna remained living in the time period. Except for Bluey and Magpie.

“Also, you speak english?”

“Yes, I do..”

"Are you hiring for any assistance like managing?"

“Excuse me?”

End of the story

Here's (Y/N) Marty bio:

-Scientist Assistant in Training: when Marty had gotten himself trouble along with her as his backup partner. They were force to on repaying Dr. Emmette Brown’s garage as punishment, but after she got herself curious with one of the unfinished device, she managed to fix it. The friendly scientist saw her on trying to discover the problem he had trouble find the source, after that he took her under his wings and became his assistant on helping with his other problem inventions…. 79% (Still learning)

-Mechanical Engineering: After she worked on the DeLorean, she was able to notice some missing through the engine and the flux capacitor were acting out like lightning wires were unmatched.

She and Doc worked on it to ensure that it wouldn't have caused anything further damage if one of them tested out the time machine for the first time.

Successfully, it worked from having the flux capacitor frying on them or Marty....82% (still learning)

-Improvised Weapon Proficiency: (Y/N) have use anything she carried around like her skateboard, as weapon to hit the creepy cashier for trying to take her soul.

Once she almost use her school supplies like wooden ruler, binder, or her pencil or pen as weapons when Biff tried to take thing far on trying to make her kiss him in front his peers.

She stabbed him directly onto the shoulder with pen while with her past mom and her girlfriends with her, safety they got away, not before sucker punch him in the nose….90%

-Gift Intelligence: Similarities brains as her twin brother, she was able to help Doc invested the DeLorean with some material it was near crazy. But also known how to fix the car engine if it needs something more changing brakes.

And help on keeping the DeLorean on lock mode from being stolen few times, by certain elderly man who changed the McFly’s family lives lot worse….76%

-Skateboarding: at 8-year-old, she and Marty have always stick to each other like glue, she learn how to ride board by him. She did her oille almost 2 months in half. But know how to do some fingerflip air move when she saw some local highschooler boys do. She copy it but it took her an year to do it right……73%

-Driving proficiency: Learn to drive when she turn 16, almost reck the car but handle it good by her older brother, Dave, in empty parking lot. And after her drifting show-in-talent and some other reckless driving, it got her big brother scared on ever wanting to drive by his baby sister.

Marty didn’t know those driving moves, yet….84%

-Poetry: Took poem classes since she wanted to not be overshadow by her twin. She was 15 when she learn how to express her emotions through heartful poetry and it had her win an reward certified and it was public around Hill Valley, even outside of U.S., ……..80%

-Spirit Vision: After arriving to Seoul, Korea, 2025.

Her sight were able to see demons, spirits and energy flows around the city while no one seen them except her, it was unknown how she was gifted with it….96%

-Honmoon Energy: The DeLorean was somewhat granted with the soul energy with the golden colored that she saw last night after arriving the time era of 2025….???(Follow the story until next time)

-Singing: She sang when she was 3-year-old. Her dad, George, gave her a karaoke box as a christmas gift while her twin got a children's guitar. From then, she sing in out that brought her dad crying on how his youngest daughter gotten gift. He was her first fan to be able to listen to her sing as if he felt like angels voices echo in the McFly family’s household…89%

-Martial Arts Skills: After returning back to her time, 1985, the McFly youngest took some classes when her twin brother have her be put in corner like he was about to fight the battle which it doesn’t including her.

She was tired being treat as if she was delicate, so, she took those classes in secret. And certain witnesses who believe in her skills unlike the rest of her family members. After 10 months, she master her combats skills, but doesn’t show it until she will ever to time travel again….70%

Facts: (Y/N) was able to learn Korea within week with her bird teacher, still she needs to work on it. Just hope she could at least survive this time period before returning back to her timeline.

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Part 1

Fic Moodboard

(Now that Y/n knows what Klaus is she needs to meet the pack, the pack that she will be an honorary member of. What happens when a rouge pack member believes Klaus’ mate would be better off as his own? What will Klaus do?)

A/N:Sorry it took so long, this has been sitting in my drafts almost finished for like a year now and I hate myself for it-I’m so sorry! I hope it settles everyone’s curiosity about their relationship.

‘I don’t think I can do this.’ Y/n whispered as she pulled her shirt down for the 20th time since getting out of the car, fidgeting nervously.

Klaus had spoken to his father, as well as the pack Leaders about his mate knowing the truth and she now needed to be brought to their land to meet her new family. They needed to get a feel of her and believe that she would never betray their secret (though Klaus left that bit out as to not make her even more nervous). He told himself they had nothing to worry about, mates were mates for a reason and a wolfs mate would never betray their secret or hurt their pack.

Actually it had happened once and only once. The Leaders didn’t believe that one of the females mates would keep their secret (as he was a greedy asshole who would have done anything for fame and money). She had needed to remove him from their land and so she took everything they both owned and left, as far as they all know they live together somewhere in Alaska.

Klaus knew Y/n would never betray him and so he wasn’t worried in the least, about anything other than her having a heart attack from her nerves.

‘They will love you. My father is the one who assured me that you were perfect for me, don’t worry your pretty little head, Princess.’ He pulled her close, kissing her nose before taking a deep breath with her and opening the front door. He led her into the house that she had been in a dozen times, though never when his father was home, only to find his dad on the couch asleep. ‘Dammit Dad.’ He huffed a sigh, Y/n stopping him from moving towards his father.

‘Don’t wake him! He must be exhausted just like you were this morning, I can’t imagine what changing like that takes out of you. Let him sleep, he’ll wake up soon and I can meet him then.’

Klaus rolled his eyes, pulling her close once again by her waist and nuzzling into her hair. ‘How did I get so lucky, to get a mate that’s so understanding and sweet?’ Y/n shrugged, wrapping her arms around his neck before jumping, startled by another voice speaking up.

‘You’re right, that was very sweet.’ They both turned to see Klaus’ father watching them with a smile. ‘Not many human mates actually consider how much shifting takes out of us.’ He stood from the couch and Y/n pulled from Klaus’ grip to hold her hand out which he shook firmly. ‘Lovely to meet my sons mate. I’m Ansel, and you must be Y/n.’

‘Yes sir, it’s a pleasure to meet you too. I’m sorry it’s so sudden, I told Klaus we could have waited until tomorrow-‘

‘No, we can’t. When a human finds out about us the Leaders insist on meeting them immediately. It’s a precaution, considering you now know a secret that could destroy all of our lives if you decided to tell anyone.’ Her face went red and Klaus glared at his father angrily.

‘Oh God, I won’t…I-I mean I wouldn’t-‘

‘I know that hun-you would never do anything to hurt my son-even as a human you feel it. Like I said, just a precaution, and tradition honestly. You know about us, that makes you family now, and we take care of our family, especially our human mates.’ Ansel was so nonchalant about it and it startled Y/n quite a bit as he turned to pull on his boots and she looked to Klaus.

‘It’s okay. Just breathe. I know it’s a lot, it was a lot for me too but you being my mate makes you part of this pack.’ She was about to speak when Ansel turned back around.

‘Alright. Let’s get going, the sun is going down and the bonfire will be starting now. You’re going to love it, no reason to be nervous.’ He told her, squeezing her hand gently once and leading the both of them out and towards the woods.

‘I’m not a wolf, how can I be part of a pack?’ Y/n questioned as Klaus now led her through the trees, his father having disappeared into the denseness of the woods quickly.

‘Mates are pack too, especially because you and I will have future generations of this pack-if you want kids of course, I know we’re not even close to that conversation yet, but wolves look very highly upon mothers in our packs, they’re the most important part of the family.’ He could see that her face was red but he also knew through their bond that she was actually enjoying the idea of being a part of their family. ‘When a mate is pregnant the entire pack cares for them-ensures they have everything they need and then they care for the family, the cooking and cleaning will all be done so that the mother can take care of her baby and herself. The father will also be there, they get 2 months of paternity leave from whatever their job is to bond with their baby and help their mate take care of their pup(s)-many women that are mated to a werewolf will have multiple babies-regardless of twins being normal in the family. Most of the time that werewolves have children it is 2 or 3.’ Klaus could instantly see the fear in her eyes as he explained all of this and as he considered everything he had just said he could see it being potentially scary for his mate-even if it was all completely normal to him at this point.

‘We’re not like…expected to have children-at least not by like-a certain time…right?’ Her question surprised him but he smiled, not wanting her to be worried about something like this for no reason.

‘Of course not Princess, you and I have all the time in the world, okay? It’s true that most couples in the pack have children young but there’s no rule that says we have to-we don’t have to have any children if you don’t want to.’ She could instantly see that the idea of not having children bothered Klaus quite a bit and she didn’t want him to think that she didn’t want kids with him.

‘Just so you know, I do want kids.’ Klaus tried to hide it but she could see he seemed to breath a sigh of relief. ‘I’m just not ready right now.’

‘We can wait as long as you need Y/n, no one will ever rush y-that’s not true! The older women in the pack often rush newly mated couples but you’ll see how much they love taking care of the babies and you’ll understand. No one ever lacks for childcare in a werewolf pack.’ He teased and she couldn’t help her small chuckle.

‘I’m not saying we have to wait 10 years or anything, I’m just not ready to get pregnant this week is all…maybe you and I could just enjoy being together for like…a year? Personally I’d like to be married before I start popping out babies.’ She told him and Klaus grinned, pulling her close and kissing her firmly-unable to stop imagining his mates belly round and full of his pups.

‘I already have a job here when I graduate, you will never have to live that shitty life you didn’t want. I will support you and our children, we’ll be safe and happy here…if that’s what you choose of course...moving here…with me…it’s your choice. Always.’

‘No. No, it’s not. There is no choice Klaus, it’s you. I want to be with you and no wolf pack or cabin house in the middle of nowhere is going to change the way that I feel about you.’ She swore and he couldn’t hide his blushing face, thanking God for the darkness as they finally walked up on the large bonfire. The pack was gathered around it while the kids were all huddled to one area of the fire to roast marshmallows. ‘This is wonderful Klaus! You’re so lucky you have a family that does things together like this.’

‘It’s yours now as well my dear, isn’t it?’ A deep voice spoke in her ear and Y/n let out a startled yelp as she jumped, clutching tightly to Klaus as they both looked up to see an old man. Y/n instantly realized that “Old” wasn’t the correct word, the correct word was ancient. Every part of his face below his nose was covered in thick white hair-a beard as long as Santa Clause himself and he might’ve actually looked like him if this man wasn’t so thin. ‘Your wolf has chosen well, boy.’ The old man spoke and Y/n saw that her boyfriend seemed content with the approval as he was walking back towards the fire and taking a seat-everyone now listening to hear what he said. Klaus led her to sit beside him on a carved log so that she could hear everything the elders said.

‘That’s our Elder Alpha. I know he looks-‘

‘Terrifying?’

‘Intimidating…’ Klaus teased and she rolled her eyes. ‘But he really is a good man. Kind and understanding. Many of the pack were nervous about me joining with how I had grown up, they thought after the abuse that I had suffered that I would want others to suffer as well. He saw through that, he knew that I just wanted a family and that I would never do anything to harm it.’

Y/n wrapped her arms around him, nuzzling into his neck in an effort to provide him some comfort. ‘This is where you were meant to be, to be happy, and I will stay with you for as long as you want me Niklaus-‘

‘Forever!’ He cut her off before she could say anything else. ‘I will want you forever! That will never change.’

‘Then I will never leave.’ She responded without hesitation and Klaus pulled her to him, pressing his lips against hers quickly. He had moved to sit sideways on the log so that he could pull her that much closer between his legs and hold her that much tighter against his chest. A moment later everyone began quieting down as the Elder Alpha began speaking, Y/n taking an immediate interest in the stories the Elder was telling. He spoke of how the pack was formed, of their families being hunted…slaughtered. And finally, when he told of them settling here over 100 years ago she seemed to understand everything. She couldn’t fault them for needing to make sure she would keep their secret, and keep their people safe.

By the end of the stories everyone was eating and Y/n was shocked by how much food there was (werewolves eating quite a lot on a regular basis). She had stuffed herself to near explosion just to ensure no one’s feelings got hurt before Klaus told everyone to fuck off and that her tiny human stomach couldn’t take anymore.

‘Where is the nearest bathroom? My bladder is going to explode if I drink anymore tea.’ She teased with a hint of seriousness-just enough to let him know she really did have to pee, Klaus pointing in the direction of a building just through the trees.

‘I’ll take you-‘

‘I’m fine. I’ve got it, I promise. I can absolutely pee by myself-if I run into trouble, I’ll holler.’ She promised making him smile, releasing her from his grip, Klaus feeling his wolf instantly protesting as he watched her walk away-hating to ever have her out of his sight but his wolf hated it even more surrounded by other wolves.

Y/n found the bathroom quickly and was pleasantly surprised by how clean it was for a small building in the woods. The pack here clearly took pride in everything they had and she admired that. Once she was finished she stepped out of the bathroom and walked right into a strong chest.

‘Oh God! I’m so sorry, I should have been looking up.’ She said, trying to laugh it off.

‘It should have been me.’ The man mumbled, confusing Y/n instantly and prompting her to take a step back, her back towards the front door of the outhouse now.

‘I’m sorry…what should have been you?’ She asked slowly, not wanting to agitate the man who briefly reminded her of an escaped mental patient.

‘He came from a human home for 10 years! Then all of a sudden he’s a part of the pack and everybody loves him?! He has everyone fawning over him, he has control over his wolf faster than any other kid, and now this? Now You?! He gets everything and now he gets the Gorgeous Mate to give him Perfect Pups? No…NO!’ Y/n flinched back, trying not to move and upset this guy any further.

‘I’m sorry, we haven’t been introduced, what was your name?’ He huffed, looking down at her making his face soften.

‘You really are perfect…Jackson…I’m Jackson and it’s not fair that I’m older and more experienced but I have to watch that Knot-Head Alpha get his “perfect little happy ending”! It should be mine!’ He was getting worked up again and Y/n knew she wouldn’t win a fight against a werewolf, prompting her to placate him.

‘You’re right.’ His eyes widened in shock as she said this and he stepped closer, hands finding her waist. ‘You’re older, stronger. You should have been my mate, not him…’ Jackson was nodding his head quickly, seeming to be deep in thought.

‘Let’s go. We can run away, they’ll never find us and I will take care of you as you should be-‘

‘Why should you have to run? You’ve done nothing wrong! Let’s go out there and tell them that you and I are in love and we’re going to be together! They can’t stop us Jackson…don’t let them stop us…I want to be part of a family.’ He nodded slowly this time before smirking.

‘We’ll stay here, have the pack behind us and make another family all our own…I’m gonna rut you so good baby…’ he leaned down, pressing his lips to hers and Y/n squeezed her eyes shut tightly, pulling back before he could shove his tongue down her throat. ‘Come on, let’s go dump that Knot-Head fucker for you and we can go home.’

Jackson held her arm tightly and Y/n wrapped her arms around his body so that he couldn’t get a better grip on her, she hoped it would make for an easier get away if he thought she wanted to hold onto him. As he led her out through the trees she stumbled in the darkness, not having the werewolf eye sight necessary to navigate in the dark. Klaus would always hold his arm around her waist and guide her gently, lifting her over large roots and rocks (even before she knew he was a wolf he was careful with her) but Jackson just allowed her to stumble, eventually falling flat onto the ground which instantly had the packs attention, Klaus jumping up to help her. He paused for a moment as Jackson growled at him-never having it happen before.

‘You’re a clumsy little thing, aren’t you mate?’ She whimpered while he yanked her up to her feet, nodding with tears in her eyes as she desperately just wanted to be in her real mates arms again.

‘What did you just call her?’ Klaus asked, confused but firm, giving him the chance to fix what he’d called her but he didn’t.

‘Mate. She’s mine now pup, she wants me, don’t you baby?’ He questioned, his hand around her upper arm with his claws digging into her flesh painfully.

‘Yes…your mate, please? You’re hurting me Jackson, please let go?’ She begged and he let go, his claws dripping with her blood leading to the growling that came from Klaus seeing his mate injured, Jackson growling right back.

‘You get everything you want, not anymore Niklaus. I’m taking her home…’ he tucked the hair in her face behind her ear to see her better. ‘She’s gonna give me beautiful pups, don’t you think?’

‘I think you need help…you’re delusional. You can’t take someone’s mate, it’s not a choice to have, when you find your mate and you know it.’ Jackson stepped closer to Nik and Y/n took the chance to step behind him and take a few steps sideways where Klaus’ father met her and lifted her quickly to take her to the fire where their healer waited-quickly disinfecting the claw marks and cleaning the blood. They wrapped it in some bandages and she finally took a breath before the snarling started making Y/n turn to find them in each others faces.

‘I’m Not fucking crazy-‘

‘You’re trying to steal my mate-which is by the way, Never Going to Happen! You’ve gone over the edge Jackson and you need to get some serious help-‘

‘She’s mine already! I kissed her and she agreed to be my mate, you can find someone else.’ Jackson cackled. ‘Come here baby!’ He demanded which she hated but she got up, moving towards them and shaking Klaus’ father hand off. ‘That’s my girl.’

‘You kissed him?’ Nik asked, confused but sure that can’t be the whole story and she shook her head quickly proving him right, his mate would never kiss someone else by choice.

‘I was trying to keep him from just throwing me over his shoulder and running off with me. He kissed me and I pulled away before he could shove his tongue in my mouth…I don’t know how unstable he is and I didn’t want to just scream and end up dead…I’m sorry...’ Y/n felt the tears welling up in her eyes quickly and Klaus shook his head, pulling her to him, tucking her head under his chin and holding her close.

‘You did so well mate, I’ve got you now. Your Alpha has you. You’re safe now, my Love-‘

‘Give Me My Mate Back! Y/N! Come Here, Now! You Fucking Whore!’ She flinched as he moved to grab her, Klaus pushing her behind him before 2 of the younger wolves moved to grab his arms and restrain him. ‘No! Let Me Go! She’s Mine!’

‘Take him to the Doctors home, have him sedated. We will deal with him in the morning.’ The boys nodded, doing as they were told and following the Doctor while Klaus had pulled Y/n close, kissing her gently.

‘You did so good mate. I’m so sorry, I should have come with you…my baby is so smart to get away from him. I will never let that happen again, you have my word…we’re gonna go home.’ Klaus spoke to his father who nodded his head though many of the pack groaned.

‘Don’t let me ruin your night, please? I’m so sorry for all of this-‘

‘Oh, sweetie! No! No, No, No. We’re the sorry ones, that never should have happened honey! We’d love it if you would stay but if you’re tired then you get on home with Nik there and we can see you at next weeks bonfire.’ The older women seemed to be the Elders wife and Y/n instantly adored her. ‘The children are excited to play with you, they don’t see humans very often…or ever. Last humans were Klaus’ siblings and that was nearly 8 years ago, most of the pups ain’t ever seen a human-at least not one that’s not a pack member.’

‘Well, I would love to spend some time with them next week…I’m just feeling a bit drained right now.’ She patted her face softly and turned to Nik.

‘Take the poor thing home and be a good mate, you hear me boy?’ Klaus nodded firmly, eyes wide in fear of the old women.

‘It was great to meet you all, I look forward to doing this again! Thank you for having me.’ Y/n thanked, turning with Klaus after waving and leaning into him heavily which made him catch her against his chest.

‘Y/n?!’

‘It’s okay. I’m just tired…’

‘Your adrenaline is wearing off. I’ve got you baby, just relax.’ Klaus turned her, lifting her bridal style and kissing her head tenderly. He made quick work of the walk home and got her inside to his bed, taking off her shoes and clothes before changing her into one of his henley’s and tucking her in.

‘He can’t get in here…right?’ Klaus shook his head at her obvious fear, wanting to comfort his mate.

‘He’s across the whole compound, sedated at the doctors house.’

‘Sorry if I don’t trust a sedative to work on a werewolf.’ She spoke, clearly still afraid.

‘I’m here Princess and I won’t let you out of my sight again. He will also have been cuffed to the bed he’s in-and the sedatives are designed to work on wolves here. I will keep you safe, I promise!’ Klaus kissed her lips gently, nuzzling her hair and pulling her firmly against his chest. ‘I will never let another wolf put their hands on my mate again. Your Alpha is here.’ He swore, kissing her head as she leaned into his chest.

Klaus laid there for the next hour just watching over her while she slept. It wasn’t until he was sure himself that she was safe that he allowed himself to drift off with his mates arms around him. Somehow it was the best night sleep they’d both had in a long time. Maybe it was the relief of having each other after what happened or maybe it was from all the excitement of the day wearing down. Either way it didn’t matter to the young werewolf, he had his mate in his arms and he would never let her go again.

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

[milolunde]

We all know Timmy is Wanda’s mama’s boy but we need to keep in mind he’s still Cosmo’s kid too and that Cosmo would love him just as vehemently as Wanda

[cleolinda]

AITA for banning my husband and father in law from the delivery room due to their intensely stressful/creepy behavior during my pregnancy?

There’s a famous Reddit post from 2020 where a pregnant woman wrote that her husband and father-in-law were a little too comfortable with their certainty that she was absolutely going to die in childbirth just like her husband’s late mother. It was to the point where her FIL was insisting that she go ahead and put all her clothes into storage, because she was obviously going to die in the hospital and it would save them the grief of packing up her things afterwards. Like. It was WILD.

When I tell my husband [that she feels suspicious of her FIL], he calls me paranoid, but I feel like my FIL WANTS me to die; his whole life identity for the past 35 years has been “amazing single dad” (never dated or had close friends or even hobbies really), and it seems like he’s looking forward to being able to guide my husband through what he went through. At this point, I’d honestly be happy to never see my FIL again, and I certainly don’t want him in the delivery room, especially since he told me he was “putting [his] foot down” about me not being “allowed” to have an epidural…. My husband, in addition to backing his dad on everything, acts like my due date is my death date, and has completely pulled away from me.

The commenters (and me, honestly) were convinced that the husband and FIL were either going to kill her outright to fulfill this expectation, or just make decisions about her care that might conveniently let her die.

And then she never posted again.

Over the last four years, people have frequently mentioned that post, always leading to a thread of people saying, “Oh god, I still worry about that woman.” I did too. It became one of those famous unresolved posts that people always wondered about.

Until yesterday, when someone on r/BestOfRedditorUpdates dug up a 2022 update she had posted on a different account:

TLDR; I had a beautiful and healthy baby girl, and I divorced my ex-husband. I lived, obviously.

She writes that she put her foot down about having her own mother in the delivery room rather than her FIL (!), and she WOULD be getting an epidural. Her husband lost his shit. And in his outburst, he let slip--

I admittedly lost my temper, and told him that I wasn’t going to die- it wasn’t my fault his father’s trauma wormed it’s way into his head, and that he needed to fix it without taking it out on me. He yelled at me that he didn’t need therapy. That caught me a little off guard; I asked him why he went to his therapist and was given advice about my death if he felt he didn’t need it. His expression gave it away, and he caved not long after. It turns out there was no therapist. It was just his dad. During the times he was supposed to be at therapy, he was with his dad. I’m still fuming.

And that was when she got the fuck out.

I’ll wrap this up- I’ve got an adorable little toddler tugging at my leg atm. I’m alive, I’m happy, and I’ve got my baby in my arms. Life is good.

I truly never thought we'd see a resolution to this, and I feel like there's probably a good number of people who remember it, so I thought you might want to know.

ETA: Brilliantly, I put the link in at the top; here it is again for convenience.

[holeforzenin]

HIDE N FUCK?!!

SYNOPSIS - A quick game of hide n seek quickly turns into a nasty game of hide n fuck with your step-brother Megumi

Tw - Prone bone, stepcest, they fuck in the attic, degradation, praising, spiting, dirty talk, creampie, choking, breeding kink, Reader is 19 n Megumi is 21, They aren’t blood related. They got caught :0, they may be some grammar errors!! Please do not interact if this isn’t your cup of tea!! MDNI!! Oh he is Toji’s son alright.

Kinktober List ԅ(°Д°ԅ)

You didn’t think the day would come where you get to relive a cherishable childhood memory of playing one of your favorite games of all time. Playing a game of hide and seek with Megumi and his cousins—a game you never thought you’d play again considering the fact that you were 19 and what people would describe as "too grown" to be playing childish games like that but fortunately, some of Megumi’s family from his dad's side came over for a small family reunion so that’s what led to the evocation.

You sighed in disappointment after finding a well concealed spot to hide in the crowded attic—behind some large boxes in the corner that has been collecting dust for probably years now, just to be raided by Megumi, who joined you.

It was a pretty clandestine hiding spot but now the chances of getting caught has increased even more because it’s been proven to you throughout the years in your childhood that you’ve played the game that you're most likely to get caught quicker if someone else was hiding with you.

But soon enough all those apprehension flew right past your head once you were being fucked hard into oblivion by Megumi— he’s basically mounting you, his larger frame almost crushing your back as you lay on your stomach. Your ass arching up a bit to accommodate the amelioration of the angle. His curved dick sliding in and out of your gushing cunt with ease every time he humps himself into you. His pelvis slapping against the fat of your ass so lewdly, causing the flesh to jiggle like jello against him. Literally, all that could be heard were his loud breathing and occasional groans, your pathetic moaning and babbling a bunch of god knows what, along with the constant sounds of his meaty balls thwacking against your puffy clit—that’s practically wet and dripping with slick. It was actually so fucking nasty how wet you were, coating and drooling all over his cock with your aroused slick as your snugged pussy enveloped his mean cock.

“Fuck you hear how soaked she is for me? Such a little slut. You don’t care what the situation is, you just wanna get your little hole stuffed and fucked like a horny bitch, is that right?” his deep voice rasped against your ear, it was pretty hilarious to you that he was saying that when he was the one groping you from behind and kissing your neck while rubbing his hard bulge into your ass with your skirt hauled up just seconds after he joined you—basically the one to initiate what was happening in the first place. You weren’t even surprised though, Megumi always had a thing for sneaky fucking—An exhibition freak.

You moaned out like brainless slut, placing one of your hands on Megumi’s right hand, which is balled up into a fist to ground himself at the sides of your head. He was so close to you that you could smell the delicious scent of his cologne—sweet and minty, wafting straight into your nostrils, making your mind hazy.

“Gumiii” you whined, feeling your brains getting fucked out that you're just babbling nonsense at the point. “Hmm? What is it baby” he moved his head closer to yours, licking a long stripe on the side of your neck that sent shivers down your spine. "We need to ngh—Hur-ry, or we’ll get cccaught!” You yelped suddenly, biting your lips when you felt two of his lengthy fingers toying with your nipple, tugging and pinching the hard bud.

“Oh yeah? Then I guess you’ll just have to be a good girl f’me and be extra fucking quiet or would you rather let everyone see and hear you getting fucked dumb and stupid by your stepbrother’s cock?” His deep voice whispered in your ear, a tiny smirk plastered on the corner of his face that immediately made your pussy clenched even harder around his girth, Your jaw dropped as his cockhead kissed your cervix, making your eyes roll back in your head. It’s like every time he fucked his cock deeper and deeper into you, your mind goes clumsy and you turn into a brainless zombie.

There’s no way any one couldn’t hear the loud thumping noises and loud moans coming from the attic—there’s no way fucking way but by the way Megumi was being an arrogant lil shit and stretching your little pussy open with his cock so brutally to accommodate his size like this, making you moan uncontrollable as if he wants someone to hear and get caught, he doesn’t seem to give a shit.

“Fuckk wish I could suck on those pretty tits” he murmured as he fondled with your breast, groping and squeezing the soft flesh as you shiver slightly because of his cold hands. He quickly lets go and wraps his big hand over your throat, angling your head to look up at him, a dark glint beaming in his eye with a tiny smirk as he eyed your fucked out face. He watched as your face distorted in pleasure, his thick cock twitching in your pussy knowing that he was the reason for that. You opened your mouth, acquitting a loud pornographic moan, Megumi used that as a perfect opportunity to corrugate his lips, a loud “pff” sound ringing in your ears as you felt a thick substance hitting your tongue. “Swallow it now” he ordered nonchalantly, dark blue eyes piercing into your soul. You did as you were told and swallowed his spit, opening your mouth after to prove it to him.

“Mmm That’s a gooddd girl, fuckk this pussy s’good, imagine if I blow my load inside this pretty cunt and fill you up, bet you’d like that yeah? Wanna give your mom and Toji some snotty little grandkids?” He babbles maniacally in your ear as you go stupid, feeling your orgasm approaching.

He noticed. Hand enthralling harder around your neck as he buckled his hips against you roughly, pulling his thick cock out of you just to bully it right back into your tight hole faster knocking loud whimpers out of you. He quickly lets go of your neck, his hand snaking its way to your sticky clit, using three fingers to sloppily rub circles on it without any type of rhythm, if you weren’t fucked so dumb right now you might’ve actually had a chance to recognize the messy spelling of his name rubbing onto your clit. “Fuckkk—look at this greedy little pussy squeezing my cock like this, you gonna cum? You really gonna make a mess on your step-brothers dick? Fuck you’re suchhh a little slut, baby. He laughed while moaning, feeling your pussy milking his cock for his own release. Fuck he really is considering fucking a baby into you at this point, your pussy was driving him crazy. His eyes rolled to the back of his head so pathetically as you screamed his name, feeling your hole spasming around his length as you squirted on his cock and all over the floor. Wet squelching noises achoing against the thin wooden walls as he fucked the liquid out of you, steams of your pussy juice heaving everywhere.

“Shitt you squirted??Oh fuckfuckfuck, What a dirty bitch” he gritted his teeth, almost losing his mind. Oh he’s trying his best to hold onto the small amount of sanity he has left as his cock molds your hole perfectly, his thick girth sliding into your pussy painfully fast because of your wetness. His mean tip grazing against your g-spot perfectly that it made your toes curl. You can feel literally feel how much his cock was twitching and beating against your fluttery walls, His eyes screwed shut as he emptied his balls into your messy pussy, cum overflowing and pooling everywhere as he shot ropes of his seed into your womb.

“Holy fuckkk yeah you’re definitely hah—carrying my kid, woman” he groaned loudly, stilling himself inside of you for a bit to catch his breathe before picking himself up from your back to rest himself on the back of your thighs, his eyes fixated on the mess between your thighs. He bit his lips, slowly slipping his cock out of you as he watched as your mixed cum leaks out of you. You whined lowly feeling so stuffed full yet so empty at the same time without Megumi’s cock. You body fully collapsed on the floor, you were so fucked out you couldn’t even process anything as he slowly spread your cheeks, getting a better view of your ruined hole before slapping his dick on your cunt, he let it a low “fuck” as your juices splattered on him.

“Such a messy bitch” he muttered with low grunt, Slapping his soaked cock on your cheeks.

“Best little step-sister aren’t ya?” He smirks. About to open his mouth to speak again before the attic door flew open, causing the two of you to jolt unexpectedly—both eyes shooting open toward the source.

“GOT YAA-“ Yuji’s eyes quickly widen, mouth visibly dropped at the lewd scene in front of him. A horrific expression plastered on his face. Oh boy.

[kylopen]

In My Head

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Sunshine reader is always seen as sweet and innocent to the team, always happy to use her healing magic wherever possible. Bucky, touch starved and in love, discovers reader is not as innocent as she seems.

Word count: 8.2k words <3

Plus size reader safe! All body types are safe in this fic! Everyone loves Dom! Bucky I do too but good god I need whipped Bucky who will do anything for Reader. This is the longest piece I’ve written in so long! Enjoy and leave a note<3 I’m in my marvel era again so feel free to request anyone! I didn't proof read (i finished it at 1am)

Tags: There is a plot! (porn with plot lol) AFAB reader, The smut is pure FILTH tbh, Smut, Pining Bucky, no use of Y/N.

Smut warnings: Sub!Bucky, soft dom! Reader, use of ‘Good boy’, Bucky has a praise kink, pussy eating (lots of it), Needy/touch starved Bucky, Bucky has an Edward Cullen moment, Oral (female/reader receiving— THREE times hehe) penetration, Buck likes his hair pulled, Bucky dry humps, Reader squirts (third oral sequence so skip that part if you wish) needy creampie.

There were things in the modern world that baffled Bucky, Bubble tea, new terms for prejudice ending in 'phobia', babies with Ipads in their faces. And you. The first time he laid eyes on you, you gave him a blindingly sweet smile, and held your hand out for him to shake. When he didn't take it you didn't judge him or look at him funny, you smiled like you understood. From then on, you respected his boundaries and he began to feel safe. It made sense to him that someone like you had the power to help and heal others.

You’d always bring them things; vitamins, water, those weird orange flavoured things that dissolve in water, something a little sugary for a boost, with that sweet, innocent smile he'd grown to adore. He would never- could never admit that though, someone like him wasn't worthy of you. He could settle for some longing and pining instead.

Bucky is lounging on the sofa with Steve, some 50s flick playing that Steve had insisted on, something about a painter in Paris- he wasn't sure. And then, you walk in, your sweet voice drifting into his ear.

“An American in Paris, huh?” you asked, gently teasing as you moved closer to the sofa, catching sight of the movie they were watching.

Bucky shifted a little, his gaze flickering to you, then quickly back to the TV. He tried not to look at you too much when you were around, not because he didn’t want to, but because every time he did, it felt like something in his chest tightened. It certainly didn’t help that it was a hot day today, you’d opted for a cute pink and white sundress that stopped mid thigh.

“Yeah, Steve’s choice,” Bucky muttered, trying to sound casual, but his voice came out a little softer than he intended. He knew that you liked these kinds of old movies, so maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.

Steve grinned from the other end of the couch, catching the subtle shift in Bucky’s tone, but not saying anything about it. Instead, he glanced up at you with a friendly smile.

“You a fan of the classics too?” Steve asked, gesturing for you to sit if you wanted to join them.

You walked over, the scent of your shampoo reaching Bucky’s senses. Vanilla and coconut, coincidentally his favourite fragrance, something that had changed not long after he’d met you… coincidentally of course, and the more you lingered around, the harder it became for him to focus on anything but you.

“Reminds me of my dad. Some are super sexist but I’m a sucker for Marilyn Monroe” you said, sitting down at the edge of the couch, right next to Bucky. Close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating off of you, but still with enough space to respect his boundaries. You always seemed to know exactly how to balance that, without even trying. It amazed him.

Bucky felt his pulse quicken as you sat beside him. You were so close. Too close. Not close enough.

He grunted in agreement with your statement, nodding, though his eyes stayed fixed on the screen. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to you—he just didn’t know how. What could he say that wouldn’t make him seem awkward or broken? Besides, talking might make him reveal just how badly he wanted to be near you, and he couldn’t afford that.

But then you spoke again, your voice soft and gentle, like you were speaking just to him. “How was training today?”

He cleared his throat, trying to push away the thoughts clouding his mind. “Same as always. Steve still hits like a truck.”

Steve laughed from the other side, “You’re the one with the metal arm, Buck.”

Bucky shot him a look, but there was no real bite to it. Just a distraction. He was grateful for it.

You laughed too, and that sound—it was like a melody that settled right under Bucky’s skin, making him feel warm in a way he hadn’t in a long time. He stole a glance at you again, just for a second, and you were looking right at him. That smile on your face, the one that had been seared into his memory from the moment you’d met.

“Let me guess,” you said, eyes twinkling, “you didn’t let him win this time either?”

Bucky’s lips twitched, almost into a smile, but he stopped himself. “Nope.”

“Good,” you replied, your voice soft again, almost as if you were relieved. “Can’t let Cap off easy.”

It was such a simple thing to say, but it hit Bucky harder than he’d expected. You cared. Not just in the way you handed out snacks and drinks after training or smiled when they passed by, but genuinely cared. For him. For Steve. And maybe, just maybe, that meant you’d be willing to see something more in him than he saw in himself.

The silence between you wasn’t awkward, but it was thick with unspoken words. Bucky could feel it. He wanted to reach out, say something—anything—but the words lodged themselves in his throat, like they always did when it came to you.

For a moment, Bucky let himself wonder what it would be like—if he could let himself believe he was worthy of you. Of someone so full of light and warmth, when all he felt was the shadows of his past.

But then the doubt crept back in, and he looked away again. He couldn’t let himself get too close. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible. It wasn’t much, but it was all he could manage without giving too much away.

You didn’t push him, though. You never did. You just smiled again and settled into the couch beside him, watching the movie like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And for a fleeting moment, Bucky let himself pretend that it was.

The training room echoes with the sharp sound of fists hitting metal, the rhythmic thud of boots against the mat, and the occasional grunt of exertion. Bucky and Steve were sparring again; the same routine they'd run through countless times. It usually helped Bucky clear his mind, focus his energy on something physical, something he could control. But today, it was different.

“Come on, Buck, focus,” Steve says as he circles around, hands up and ready. His movements were fluid, precise. He was always like that—disciplined, unshakable. Bucky was too, usually. But not today.

His thoughts kept drifting, unbidden, back to you.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how close you had been on the couch last night, the way your voice had softened when you’d spoken to him, like you saw something in him that no one else did. That smile. It was haunting him in the best way.

As if to taunt him farther, his mind flashes with the image of you in your sundress, the way it swayed around the soft skin of your thighs.

“Bucky?” Steve’s voice cut through his reverie, but not fast enough.

Distracted, Bucky moves just a second too late. He swings wide, and Steve, quicker than ever, ducked under his arm and swept his legs out from under him. Before Bucky could react, he hit the mat hard, air leaving his lungs in a sharp gasp.

“Damn it,” Bucky growles, more at himself than at Steve. He stays on the floor for a moment, trying to shake the thoughts of you from his mind. He shouldn’t be getting distracted like this. Not during a sparring session. Not ever.

Steve stands over him, offering a hand, his brow furrowed in concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Bucky grumbles, accepting the hand and letting Steve pull him back to his feet. His ribs ache from the fall, but it wasn’t anything serious. It was more the embarrassment that stung. Bucky didn’t like feeling off his game, and lately, thinking about you was doing just that.

“You weren’t focused,” Steve says, stepping back into position. It wasn’t a question.

Bucky wiped the sweat from his brow, shaking out his arms as if that could somehow reset his mind. “I’m fine. Let’s go again.”

Steve hesitates for a second, then nods, getting back into stance. He could tell something was on Bucky’s mind, but he wasn’t going to push. At least, not right now. Steve knew when to back off, and when to press—though Bucky had a feeling that conversation would come soon enough.

They start again, trading punches and dodges, but Bucky couldn’t shake the lingering thoughts of you. The way you made him feel—safe, seen. The way you’d praise him. God… the way you’d tell him he did a good job after training or a mission,

Just for a second, his mind drifts again— Your pretty eyes, the way they’d look at him like he was something amazing, the smile you’d give him and then he wonders what your face would look like as he dives down deep between your thighs-

Steve’s fist came in fast, and though Bucky manages to block it, he doesn’t account for the follow-up. Steve's knee connects with his side, hitting just below his ribs with enough force to knock the wind out of him.

Bucky staggers back, holding his side with a grimace.

“Whoa, Buck!” Steve stops immediately, hands out in concern. “You good?”

Bucky clenches his jaw, nodding, though his side throbbed. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said through gritted teeth.

“You’re not fine,” Steve replies, taking a step forward, but Bucky waves him off, frustrated with himself more than anything.

“I said I’m fine,” Bucky snaps, turning away for a moment to catch his breath. He hates this. Hates how easily you get into his head, how much he let himself think about you when he was supposed to be focused. It wasn’t like him to get distracted, especially not in a fight.

Steve gives him a long, knowing look. He wasn’t pushing the subject yet, but Bucky could see it in his eyes—Steve had noticed something. And knowing Steve, it wouldn’t be long before he asked about it.

Steve lets out a sigh, shaking his head. “You need to go get that checked out.” He motions to the cut on Bucky’s cheek and his ribs.

“I said I’m fine,” Bucky mutters.

Steve doesn’t budge. “Buck, if you don’t get that cleaned up, it’s going to get worse. You’re already bruised, and that cut—” He gestured to Bucky’s face. “—needs to be looked at.”

Bucky was about to argue again when Steve adds, with a pointed look, “Go see her.”

He blinks, his heart suddenly beating faster in his chest. “What?”

“Go see her,” Steve repeats, his voice calm but insistent. “You know she can patch you up. She always does.”

Bucky opens his mouth to argue, but the words wouldn’t come. You always did take care of them after training, offering vitamin drinks or snacks, your touch gentle and your presence calming.

“I don’t need—” Bucky begins, but Steve cuts him off with a significant look.

“Buck, you’re hurt. Let her help you. Besides, we both know she’d want to,” Steve says, his tone softening as he rests a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “She cares, man. And you’re not doing yourself any favours by pretending you don’t need her.”

Bucky clenched his jaw, his chest tight with a mix of frustration and something else he couldn’t quite name. The truth was, he did want to go to you.

With a heavy sigh, Bucky nods, finally relenting. “Fine.”

Steve smiles, patting him on the shoulder. “Good. Now go get cleaned up. I’ll finish up here.”

Bucky hesitates for a second before turning to leave the training room, his side still aching from the hit.

All he knew was that when he saw you, when you smiled at him with that gentle, understanding look in your eyes, it was going to make it that much harder to keep pretending he didn’t feel anything.

Bucky’s footsteps echo softly through the hall as he makes his way to the infirmary. When he reaches the infirmary door, he gives a soft knock before stepping inside.

You’re there, sitting at your desk with one thigh crossed elegantly over the other, your attention focused on some paperwork in front of you. You’re dressed in your usual professional attire—a fitted dress that hugs your form just enough to hint at your curves beneath your white lab coat. The subtle click of your black heels against the floor when you shift is a small, but noticeable, sound that makes Bucky's heart beat a little faster.

You look up when you hear him enter, that sweet, welcoming smile appearing almost instantly. “Bucky,” you greet warmly, your voice soft. “What brings you in? Did you and Steve go a little too hard today?”

For a second, Bucky just stands there, distracted by how you look. His heart skips a beat as he takes in the sight of you. He notices, maybe for the first time, how the hem of your dress rides up slightly when you cross your legs. He forces himself to look away before you catch him staring.

“Uh, yeah,” he mutters, gesturing vaguely to the cut on his face. “Just a cut… and maybe some bruised ribs.”

You arch an eyebrow, your smile turning a little coy. “Only maybe bruised ribs? Sounds like you need me to take a closer look.”

Bucky blinks, heat creeping up his neck as he tries to decide whether he’s imagining the playful tone in your voice or if it’s actually there. He clears his throat. “Yeah… probably.”

With that, you uncross your legs and stand up, heels clicking softly against the tile floor as you walk over to him. Your movements are graceful, confident, and Bucky feels his pulse quicken as you draw closer. There’s something about the way you carry yourself today—calm, collected, but with an air of subtle suggestion that makes him feel off balance.

You stand just inches away from him, reaching up to gently tilt his chin up so you can inspect the cut above his eyebrow. Your fingers are cool against his sweaty skin, and Bucky freezes, his breath catching in his throat.

“It’s not deep,” you murmur “But it’s a little more than a scratch. Seems like you need my magic touch~” you wiggle your fingers and Bucky bites back a groan at the subtle implication.

Before Bucky can respond, you place your hand gently over the wound, and he feels a soft, warm tingling sensation spread across his skin. Your healing powers are subtle but effective, and within seconds, the pain is gone, the cut already closing up beneath your touch. He’s experienced your abilities before, but every time he feels a spark from your touch, it’s a simple move but he craves more.

“There we go,” you say softly, removing your hand from his face. Your fingers linger a little longer than usual, trailing down his jaw ever so slightly before you step back, your eyes locking with his for a brief moment.

Bucky swallows hard, trying to shake off the heat rising in his chest. He’s probably imagining it—just reading too much into things. You’re always sweet, always kind and innocent.

Your gaze drops to his side, and you gently brush your hand over his ribs. “Lift your shirt for me?” you ask, your voice light but carrying a tone of suggestion that makes Bucky’s heart skip a beat.

He hesitates for a second, then does as you ask, pulling up his shirt to reveal the dark bruise spreading along his ribs. You make a soft sound of sympathy, a small pout forming on your lips as your pretty eyes lock with his for a moment. You look back down, your fingers grazing his skin as you crouch slightly to get a closer look.

“You really got hit hard,” you murmur, your tone carrying a note of concern but it switches up subtly as you carry on: “Good thing I can take care of you.”

Bucky’s breath hitches. Did he hear that right? Is there something more in your words? You were just talking about the injury right? The way you said it, the way you moved—it feels almost sinful in a way he’s not used to, at least not from you. He tries to keep his focus, but with you this close, your fingers trailing lightly over his bruised skin, it’s damn near impossible.

You place your hand gently over his ribs, your touch soft but firm as you close your eyes for a moment, focusing on healing the injury. Bucky feels the familiar warmth of your powers again, spreading through his body like a gentle wave. The pain begins to melt away, the bruise slowly fading beneath your hand.

“There,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “All better.”

But your hand doesn’t move right away. Instead, it lingers on his ribs for a second too long, your fingertips brushing the edge of his abdomen in a way that makes his breath catch. Then, just as he’s about to say something—anything—you pull away, turning to your desk, palms flat and bending as if you’re looking for something. Bucky’s mind flashes to pulling up your dress and fucking you senseless then and there, his metal hand clenches and he shakes the thought away.

Bucky exhales slowly, trying to calm the sudden storm in his chest. He has to be imagining it, right? You’re just being your usual caring self- but that touch felt different. Everything you’re doing feels different. More intentional. And the way you’d looked at him just now—

He notices you didn’t actually pick anything up from the desk after you’d bent over it a little.

“Alright, just one last check,” you say as you come back to stand in front of him, a small, almost playful smile on your lips. “Let me make sure everything else is fine.” You reach up, your hand lightly brushing against his neck as if you’re checking for tension or soreness. But then, your fingers linger—soft and warm against his skin, trailing slowly down to his collarbone. The touch is innocent enough, but there’s something in the way you do it that makes Bucky’s entire body tense.

You meet his eyes, your expression still sweet and professional, but there’s a hint of something more—something almost teasing in the way you hold his gaze. “Hmm, seems like you’re all healed up,” you murmur, your voice soft but suggestive in a way that makes his pulse race.

Bucky swallows, his throat suddenly dry as he stares at you. For a moment, he can’t move, can’t speak—stuck between the need to figure out if what he’s feeling is real or just in his head. He tries to convince himself it’s all innocent, but the way your hand lingers on his neck, the way your eyes flicker to his lips for the briefest of moments… it leaves him wondering if you aren’t quite as innocent as he thought.

You finally step back, that same sweet smile on your face as if nothing happened. “Take it easy, alright? Don’t push yourself too hard next time.”

Bucky nods, his voice hoarse when he finally speaks. “Yeah… thanks.”

You tilt your head, your smile widening just a little. “Anytime.” You sit down on your chair again, crossing one thigh over the other, it seemed deliberate.

You rest a pencil on your lower lip, teeth grazing it just slightly, pretty eyes on him. Bucky draws in a breath and feels a problem growing between his legs. He spins around to the door, hoping you don’t notice.

As Bucky begins leave you call out once more: “Let me know if you need me Bucky~ you can always come to me”

As Bucky leaves the infirmary, his mind spins. He came in with injuries, but now he has a different kind of problem, he attempts to calm down, the hardness in his pants making it hard to think. Something has shifted between you two, and whether it’s real or just in his imagination, Bucky can’t help but think back to it all. Did you want him too?

That night, Bucky stares at his ceiling, mind flashing back to you at your desk. Why didn’t you pick anything up? Did you forget what you were looking for? The look in your eyes told him you must’ve known what was going through his head.

He groans and pushes his face into his pillow, he thinks back to something that had happened a few days ago. You were giving out some sort of vitamin pill to everyone, when you’d leaned in, lips near his ear as you whispered:

“I saved you the last cherry flavoured one, don’t tell anyone” before winking slightly.

He shivers at the memory; he could smell every inch of you when you leaned in.

He grunts and pushes his face farther into the pillow. Why did you always save the good things for him? Was it on purpose? Whenever you baked you’d give him first pick- he thought you were just being nice, the sweet girl they all know. But the more he thinks about you the more he notices those little things.

Before he had even registered what he was doing, he was standing and making his way to your rooms. You did say he could always come to you. Bucky freezes outside the door when he realises where he was and what he was doing. Was he crazy? How could he come up with an excuse for being at your door at eleven at night? Before he can change his mind and turn around your door opens. There you stood wearing nothing but a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top- with no bra.

Bucky freezes, his breath catching in his throat as his gaze locks on you. The soft glow of your bedside lamp spills over your frame, highlighting the way your sleep shorts hug your hips and your tank top clings to your chest. His mouth goes dry.

You blink at him. “Bucky?” your voice is soft, a hint of curiosity laced in your tone. “Is everything okay? F.R.I.D.A.Y told me you were stood outside my door.

For a moment, all he can do is stare. He knows he should say something, anything, but his mind is scrambling for an excuse—an explanation for why he’s standing at your door in the middle of the night. His thoughts drift back to your touch earlier, the brush of your hand on his neck, and the memory of your lips near his ear just days ago.

You tilt your head slightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips, and Bucky swears there’s something teasing in your expression. You step aside, opening the door wider as if you’re inviting him in. “You didn’t have to knock, you know,” you say with that same sweetness. “You can always come to me.”

His heart pounds in his chest, loud enough that he wonders if you can hear it. He swallows, trying to push down the tension, but something in your eyes—something about the way you're looking at him—has his feet moving before his brain catches up.

He steps over the threshold.

Bucky steps inside, the door clicking shut softly behind him. The room is dim, and the soft scent of your perfume lingers in the air, teasing his senses. He watches you as you turn back toward him, your smile still warm, still innocent—at least on the surface.

“So…” you say, your voice soft as you walk a little closer to him, “What brings you here so late, Bucky?” There’s a hint of playfulness in your tone, like you already know the answer but want to hear him say it.

He shifts awkwardly, his eyes darting away from yours. “I… uh, I couldn’t sleep.” His voice comes out rougher than he intended.

“We both know my healing powers can’t help you sleep Bucky. So what’s up with you coming to see lil’. ol’. Me.”

He opens his mouth to reply, but no words come out. His mind is racing—unsure if you're playing a game or if he’s just reading too much into it. His eyes flick down to your tank top, the way it clings to you, the coolness from the hallway had made hard peaks appear on your chest he then glances back to your face. You’re watching him carefully, that same playful glint in your eyes.

You tilt your head slightly, voice soft but teasing. “You’ve been thinking a lot lately, haven’t you?” Your fingers brush lightly against his arm, sending a shiver through him. “About me?”

Bucky feels his pulse quicken. He’s certain now—there’s no way he’s imagining it.

“I—” He swallows hard, trying to find the right words. But before he can, you step even closer, your body inches from his now, your hand lingering on his arm.

“You think I didn’t notice?” You ask sweetly

Bucky’s breath hitches as your words sink in, and his chest tightens, the space between you suddenly feeling far too small. His mind is racing, but his body is rooted in place, drawn to you in a way he can’t explain. He tries to speak, to form some kind of coherent response, but his voice fails him.

“You think I didn’t notice?” you ask again, your voice low, sweet, but with a teasing edge that makes Bucky’s heart race. Your hand is still resting lightly on his arm, your touch burning through his skin despite the fabric of his shirt. The warmth of your body is so close now, and Bucky is overwhelmed by the scent of you—intoxicating, pulling him deeper into the moment. He can feel himself grow hard at the simple touch, he want’s your hands all over him. He just needs to feel you touch him.

He stares down at you, his gaze flickering between your eyes and the way your lips curve into that soft, knowing smile. You tilt your head up slightly, your eyes locking with his, and for a moment, everything else fades away. It’s just the two of you, standing impossibly close, the air between you thick with tension.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, but Bucky hears every word. “I notice where your eyes go when I wear a skirt or dress, if I bend over or wear anything even remotely low cut.”

He swallows hard, his pulse pounding in his ears. He wants to say something, to explain himself, to apologize, but he can’t—because the truth is, you’re right. He has been looking at you, watching you, craving your presence without ever fully admitting it to himself.

You shift even closer, your chest almost brushing against his, and Bucky’s breath catches as your fingers slowly trail up his arm, lingering at his shoulder. His heart feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest, and he’s not sure how much longer he can keep control of himself. The way you’re looking at him, your lips parted slightly, your eyes holding his like they’re daring him to make the next move…

He’s losing it.

“You don’t have to hide it,” you whisper, your voice laced with that same soft, teasing edge. Your hand moves up to his neck now, your fingertips brushing the sensitive skin just below his jaw. “You can tell me what you want, Bucky…”

He whines.

Before the embarrassment can hit him you let out a low groan at the sound. “Fuck…”

Bucky’s breath comes out in a shudder, his self-control hanging by a thread. He feels the warmth of your hand against his neck, the way your touch lingers just a second too long, and it sends a wave of heat rushing through him.

He opens his mouth to respond, but you’re already moving, closing the last bit of space between you. Your eyes flicker down to his lips, and Bucky’s resolve crumbles. He can’t hold back anymore.

His hand reaches out almost instinctively, fingers gently curling around your waist, pulling you closer. He leans down, his breath mingling with yours as he hovers just inches from your lips, his heart pounding in his chest.

“You…” His voice is low, strained, as if he’s barely holding on. “You’re driving me crazy, doll.”

You smile, and the look in your eyes—soft, teasing, and just a little wicked—sends him over the edge.

Bucky leans to close the gap but your finger presses against his lips. A frown forms on his face, and then you speak.

“ah ah ah” you shake your head “we ask for what we want”

Bucky mentally scolds himself for not asking, he was in the moment.

“May I kiss you?” he asks.

“Say please” there was an unexpected dominance to your tone, completely wiping out the innocence.

Oh fuck.

Bucky feels himself grow harder at the tone. He’s momentarily stunned. Your pretty eyes are on him, feigning innocence but there’s something sinful hiding in them. His beautiful blue eyes look down at you, filled with need.

“Please?”

You let out a moan at the word, your body heating up, your core dampens your shorts.

“Fuck… Bucky…” You say breathily before you pull him down a little to reach your height and kiss him. It’s gentle, as though you’re teasing him, giving him a glimpse to what he can have. He just needs to ask politely.

“Doll… please… I…” He struggles to get his words out, brain fogged over from all the sensations hitting him at once. You run your hands along his abs and he whines again. The whine shoots straight through you. Bucky Barnes, the worlds most accomplished assassin is whining for you.

“Please what? Good boys use their words.” You say in a sinfully soft voice that sends a shiver down his spine.

“I need… more… please” He whispers your name at the end and you hum, satisfied. You grasp his hand and it feels so good to him. Too good. He follows you as you pull him towards the bed.

“Sit there. Lean against the headboard” you hum and he immediately does as he’s told. Sure, he was a super solider who could overpower you in a second, you were both aware. But you were both also aware that he didn’t want that. He needed you to guide him.

You plant yourself in his lap, straddling him, before letting out a soft hum as you feel his hardness push against your core over your sleep shorts. Bucky lets out a moan at the contact but you’re quick to swallow it with a deep, heated kiss. His hands claw at your hips and you gasp slightly as the metal of his hand touches your skin. He’s quick to pull it away but you’re quicker, gripping his wrist and shaking your head, guiding it back in place.

You continue the kiss, before taking his lower lip in between your teeth. You open your eyes to see his blue ones are locked onto your own in what can only be described as the hottest, neediest way, his pupils dilated. You lick over his lip before your hand snakes around the back of his neck and up to his hair. You gently tug, its light, testing the waters and his lips part, head nodding. You pull his hair back a little harsher and he moans. You laugh, the sound dark and sinful in Bucky’s ears.

Your lips kiss his earlobe. “You like your hair pulled? Dirty boy~”

He moans again and nods, hands gripping your hips a little harder, pulling you down to grind on him. You make a ‘tsk’ sound and he freezes, quickly remembering your rule.

You get off him and he groans at the loss of contact, his needy eyes falling onto you. You slowly pull down your shorts, revealing your core to him. His breathing quickens, cock twitching and straining against his sweatpants.

“Take your clothes off, honey” your sultry voice fills his ears and he does so immediately, stripping off his shirt first, exposing the honey toned abs with numerous scars here and there. He is beautiful and you let it show on your face. He drags down his sweatpants leaving him in his grey boxers. There’s a dark damp spot on them from his arousal, pre-cum weeping through from the tip. You make a gesture for him to keep going and he obliges, dragging the boxers down. He stands there, glorious cock hard against his abdomen, looking at you, waiting for your next command.

“What do you want? You just need to ask” You inquire, goading him to tell you.

He swallows, looking down at your dripping core and then back to his cock. You fully expect him to ask to fuck you based on his expression, but he shocks you.

“Can I taste you please?”

Your eyes widen briefly, stunned at his choice.

“I’m sorry— if you don’t want—“ He begins to speak but you cut him off with a finger to your lips and standing up. You slowly peel off your shorts, leaning against the wall.

“You asked me so nicely.” You beckon him and the speed in which he’s on his knees in front of you has your legs weak. His hands skim over your thighs, leaving Goosebumps in their wake. “Is this what you want?”

Bucky looks up at you with desperate eyes, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips. “Yes, please” His voice is hoarse.

“You wanna make me feel good?” You coo.

Bucky groans, his hands gripping your thighs a little. “More than anything” He confirms.

You nod, giving your permission and he settles in between your thighs. He grasps your ass, pulling you up so your legs are over his shoulders, his head cradled by your thighs. You’re momentarily stunned, briefly forgetting he’s a super soldier with insane strength. The thought goes right to your core. Your back is against the wall, his hands still firm on your ass, keeping you in place. Bucky’s breath ghosts across your core before he looks up at you. The sight was nearly enough to make you come. With a firm squeeze on your ass, he dives in, licking a stripe up your lips, making you gasp and weave your fingers through his hair. He groans and begins to lap at your clit like a man starved. He occasionally moans and groans, letting you know how much he’s enjoying being between your legs.

“Bucky— oh my god” You moan out. This only drives him more, he focuses his tongue on your bundle of nerves and you see stars.

He is good at this.

Really fucking good.

Too good?

It doesn’t take you long to come at all, you grasp his hair tighter, thighs squeezing around his head in a way that makes his cock twitch against his abdomen. He rides you through your orgasm until you’re squirming and too sensitive.

He pulls back, holding you up still, and looks into your eyes. The lower part of his face is sinfully wet, he gives you a charming smile, eyes still betraying his neediness.

“You did so well… so good for me…” You breathe out and a strangled noise escapes him.

A praise kink.

“You did so so good for me Bucky~ You deserve a reward” You coo, getting off his shoulders and standing up. You tilt his head up with your finger. “You want a reward baby?”

Bucky lets out a breathy noise and nods.

“What do you want? I’ll give you whatever you want”

Bucky Looks up at you, standing up. He shocked you again.

“Please doll… sit on my face… if… you want…” He adds the last part, unsure. All he knows is that being in between your thighs, hearing you, feeling you, giving you pleasure is all he wants right now.

You bite back a groan and nod, watching him scramble to the bed, laying on his back. He’s gloriously naked, thick cock incredibly hard and standing to attention. You crawl up his body, making sure to brush up against his length to hear those delicious whines from him. His hips buck a few times against you and then you’re settled just above his face. You look down at him and he looks ravenous— His desperate eyes flicking from your core to your face. His hands keep flexing as he struggles, wanting nothing more than to pull you down onto his face and hold you there until he can’t breathe.

“You can touch me Buck” you say softly and his hands hesitantly settle on your hips. He pauses before it eventually becomes too much and pulls you down onto his face, groaning at the impact. You don’t move much, assuming he wants to take the lead when he speaks, muffled against your core.

You giggle and look at him innocently. “Sorry honey what was that? I can’t understand you~”

His eyes grow even more needy, looking up at you. He speaks, muffled again before he decided to lift you up just enough to speak.

“Move— please. Grind on my face. Use me to come please”

How could you say no to such a beautiful request?

You settle back down and rock your hips. His tongue moves with the same finesse and you can’t help but wonder if he’s tired. He doesn’t look tired. You move his arms so he’s holding them up and you entwine your fingers, using his arms to keep you upright, moving against him. His eyes are fluttering shut in pleasure and you groan. You make quick work of your shirt, leaving you both naked now.

“Eyes open Bucky~ I thought you wanted to see what you do to me?~” You tease.

His eyes shoot open again, pupils dilated, his eyes more black than blue now.

“Good~ So good to me” You breathe out and he moans against you, making you gasp and your hips stutter. You grip his hands tighter. His pretty eyes are begging you to come and you do, thighs once again squeezing around his head, making him feel dizzy. Your hips are bucking against his face not even thinking about his breathing— but that isn’t on Bucky’s mind either. You ride out your orgasm and get off him, falling on your back, breathing erratic.

Bucky lays there with the lower half of his face wet, stubble and all. His breathing is erratic and his cock is painfully hard against his abdomen.

“Holy shit Bucky” You huff out and a hoarse moan leaves his mouth.

He slots himself between your legs, kissing your shoulder, slowly moving down your body until he’s at your hip, kissing it softly.

“You are so beautiful doll” His eyes are sincere and your cheeks feel hot at the compliment. “One more time? Please?” He asks, eyes pleading.

Sweet mother of Jesus.

“You want— you seriously— you want to eat me out again?” Your eyes are wide.

Bucky nods, nuzzling and kissing your thigh before focusing on your face again. “And to fuck you with my fingers if that’s alright with you doll?”

Sweet. Mother. Of. Jesus.

Your brain short circuits for a moment at the words leaving his mouth and you mindlessly nod, your gaze heated and intense.

He runs a finger along your dripping core and he moans. Was he really getting this much pleasure? You hadn’t even touched him at all. He teases your entrance before sinking a finger in softly. He hisses at how tight it is, his cock twitching. You let out a soft breathy moan at the feeling, instinctively reaching for his hair. Bucky peppers kisses on your thighs before he begins pumping his finger.

It’s not enough.

“More” You demand, gripping his hair. Bucky is happy to oblige, pushing a second finger in, your toes curling. “oh god yes”

Bucky begins to curl his fingers, brushing up against your sweet spot as he increases his pace a fraction and you cry out.

“Am I doing good?” His husky voice asks, desperate for praise.

“So good baby, so fucking good. You’re so good to me” You moan out and he snaps, thrusting his fingers into you with a little more force and latching his mouth onto your clit. You’re so sensitive at this point you let out a whine, your words not coherent. You didn’t even know it was possible to come this many times before being fucked. The coil in your stomach feels more intense than you have ever felt before, you tighten around his fingers and before you could warn him, he pulls away, watching the liquid squirt from you in awe. You, on the other hand are glassy eyed and trembling afterwards.

Bucky gives you a few minutes to settle before he brings himself back up to your face, you pull him in for a messy kiss. His cock is settled on your thigh, Bucky whines into the kiss and you can feel him jutting against it. You grasp his chin as he kisses you, feeling his length as he desperately claims whatever friction he can get.

Bucky is surprised at himself. There has never been a time in his life where he has felt the need to dry hump a woman. But you have the best ways of bringing new feelings and actions out of him.

“Please” He says softly.

“Oh you’re so worked up honey. After doing such a good job. Take what you want Bucky” you coo, stroking his cheek and he leans into it before settling his hips between your legs.

“Can I… are you okay if I…” He begins and you nod.

“You’ve more than earned it” You rake your hands through his hair, nails scratching his scalp.

In an attempt to ground himself, He places his hands on your headboard, letting you guide his cock into place. He pushes in and groans, immediately shattering the headboard where his hands were.

Oh lord.

You squeeze around him and let out a breathy, aroused giggle. Bucky on the other hand looks mortified.

“Oh my god doll I am so sorry—“ He goes to pull out of you but you grasp his arms and shake your head. He doesn’t take much convincing before he pushes into you fully. He’s panting and rests his forehead on yours. Even with the fingers stretching you earlier, you need to adjust. The super solider cock is no joke.

You moan encouragingly in his ear and he pulls back softly before pushing back in. Your eyes flutter and Bucky has his trained solely on you and your reactions.

“Am I hurting you, doll?” He asks, breathily, stopping his motions.

You shake your head immediately. “Please don’t stop”

He keeps his strength in check, bracing on the half broken headboard again, his hands slotting into the Bucky sized hand holes in them. He uses a leisurely pace that does hit the spot, but it’s not quite enough. You could tell he was holding back for your sake but you needed to see just how much he needed you.

“Harder Bucky~ Fuck. I can take it— please”

The headboard crushes even more at your words, your legs were wound around his hips, he leans forward, wrapping his arms around you, his face buried in your neck as he desperately thrusts into you. It’s hard and fast, a string of moans and curses leaving your mouth as you can’t move in his grip, all you can do is take it. You’re seeing stars now, as Bucky is whining and muttering praises in your ear.

“You feel so good doll”

“I would do this forever… beautiful beautiful girl”

And lastly:

“Oh god thank you” He repeats the phrase a few times and your head spins.

He’s fucking thanking you.

You manage to moan out a few praises that are punctuated by his sharp needy thrusts. He pulls his face away from his neck when he’s close. You can see it on his face, begging you to come first. He slips his metal hand down to your clit, stroking the already sensitive bundle of nerves and your eyes widen at the coolness against it.

“Please come” He moans and it doesn’t take you long to oblige his plea, the metal hand on your clit, the whines from Bucky and his cock hitting you deep pushes you over the edge and you come, clenching him hard.

“You’re so beautiful” He says in awe. “Please can I come— please doll” Bucky’s thrusts are faltering.

“fill me up Bucky~” You moan and that’s all it takes, his thrusts become harder, your body jolting from the force, you’ll feel this in your hips in the morning. You could always heal it away. But you probably won’t. You place a hand over his neck holding it loosely, your other hand raking through his hair.

Bucky thrusts into you hard and deep, with hoarse moans of thank you as he comes inside you, filling you up. He simply stays inside you after, his body moving with his deep ragged breaths before he collapses on top of you, making sure to use some strength to stop him crushing you. You stroke his hair, muttering soft praises.

He rolls off you, his honey toned skin covered in a sheen of sweat that made him look godly. Your legs are jelly; you aren’t even sure you can use them for the next few days. Bucky stands and walks to your bathroom, giving you the perfect view of his sculpted ass and returns a few moments later with a warm wet cloth to clean you up with.

When the both of you are cleaned up, Bucky begins to wipe away the crushed pieces of headboard from your bed sheepishly.

“Sorry doll” He says quietly.

“It’s okay” You assure. “It was hot. Made me feel like Bella Swan” You joke.

Bucky looks at you, not understanding the reference.

“From Twi… never mind” You hum, helping to brush off the little pieces of wood. He lays back down and pulls you into his arms.

“Doll… I… I have never felt like that before. What did you do to me? I am under a spell when it comes to you.”

You yawn and let out a sleepy laugh. “You’re telling me. I don’t think I could sleep with a regular dude again after that”

It’s not long until exhaustion rushes through you. Super solider stamina is no joke. You drift off, head on his chest. Bucky watches the soft rise and fall of your chest, your soft snores filling the room.

And for the first time in what feels like forever; Bucky has a deep, dreamless sleep. His nightmares paused as he slumbers beside your soft, warm body.

It’s late when Bucky wakes up. Your side of the bed is cold. He glances at the clock on his phone, reading 11:07am, and a text from you, timestamped two hours ago:

‘Morning sleepy head. I didn’t wanna wake you. You looked too comfortable ;)’

He smiles at the text and looks for his clothes, only to find you must have taken a trip to his room to grab some fresh clothes. There is a towel on a chair with a new set of clean clothes and a pair of boxers.

When he’s all cleaned up and dressed he makes his way to the kitchen. You’re talking to Wanda, Steve and Sam.

“Bucky good morning!” Your sweet voice drifts over to him. “You slept in late. Are you feeling okay? Late night?” It’s an innocent question, no one bats an eyelash at it. You’re the healer of the team, and you’re concerned. But Bucky bites back a groan at the implications they both know is behind the sweet words.

Before Bucky can respond, Tony walks in.

“Hey Hippocrates” Tony calls out to you. “Why did F.R.I.D.A.Y tell me you needed a new headboard for your bed?

Oops.

-END-

[rafesgreasycurtainbangs]

rafe x pouge!reader trying to have sex but their kid keeps interrupting

❛ GETTING DISTRACTED DURING SEX ❜

pogue¡mom¡reader . . . dad¡rafe cameron

You’re pressed tight against Rafe in the quiet of your bedroom, the heat of his bare chest under your hands sending a thrill through your body.

His lips are on your neck, hot and deliberate, his stubble grazing your skin in a way that makes you bite back a gasp. Your fingers trace the hard lines of his shoulders, nails digging in just enough as you tug at the waistband of his boxers, the air heavy with the desperate edge of a moment you’ve been chasing all day.

The kids—your six-year-old twins, Ellie and Max, and the two-year-old, Luca—are finally asleep after an exhausting evening of tantrums, bedtime stories, and one spilled cup of milk.

This is your first chance to be alone, and the need for each other is palpable, crackling in the dim glow of the bedside lamp.

“Missed you so fuckin’ much,” Rafe murmurs, voice low and rough, vibrating against your skin as his hands slide under your tank top, fingers grazing the curve of your waist, possessive yet careful.

You arch into him, breath hitching, your lips brushing his jaw as you feel him, hard and ready, pressing against you through the thin fabric.

“Ten minutes,” you whisper, half-laughing, half-desperate, your hands fumbling to push your shorts down. “That’s all we’ve got before someone wakes up.” His chuckle is dark, promising, as he helps you, his fingers quick and eager, the heat between you spiking fast.

You’re just starting to lose yourself in him, your body melting under his touch, when a small, plaintive voice cuts through the haze. “Mommy!” It’s Ellie, her footsteps pattering down the hall, the bedroom door creaking open before you can even react.

You freeze, Rafe’s hands stilling on your hips, both of you holding your breath as your daughter stands there, clutching her stuffed bunny, eyes bleary with sleep.

Rafe’s head drops to your shoulder, a frustrated sigh escaping him as you pull back, heart still racing. “Ellie, baby, what’s up?” you ask, sliding off the bed and kneeling in front of her, smoothing her messy hair. Your skin’s still flushed, your body screaming for Rafe, but you force a calm smile.

“Bad dream,” she mumbles, lip trembling. “Monsters again.” You glance back at Rafe, who’s sitting up now, running a hand through his hair, his expression a mix of amusement and exasperation.

“No monsters, kiddo,” he says, voice softer but with that familiar edge. “We checked, remember?” He swings his legs over the bed, tugging on a t-shirt, and you shoot him an apologetic look as you guide Ellie toward the door.

“Let’s get you back to bed,” you say, taking her hand, your body still buzzing with unspent desire. You mouth sorry to Rafe, who just smirks, leaning back on his elbows like he’s already plotting how to pick up where you left off.

It takes longer than you’d like—Ellie needs a story, then a hug, then a promise to leave the hall light on.

When you finally slip back into the bedroom, closing the door with a soft click, Rafe’s waiting, sprawled across the bed, eyes locking onto you with that same hungry glint.

“She good?” he asks, voice low, already reaching for you as you climb onto the bed, your heart kicking up again.

“Yeah,” you whisper, straddling his lap, your hands finding his chest, the heat of him reigniting that ache inside you. “Where were we?”

You lean down, kissing him, slow and deep, his hands sliding up your thighs, pulling you closer until you can feel him again, the tension snapping back into place like no time has passed.

You’re just about to tug his boxers down, your fingers grazing the waistband, when the baby monitor crackles to life.

Luca’s wail pierces the air, sharp and insistent, and you both go still, the moment shattering. Rafe lets out a low, incredulous laugh, his head dropping back against the pillow. “You’re shittin’ me,” he mutters, scrubbing a hand over his face.

You can’t help but giggle, even as your body protests, the interruption almost absurd. “My turn,” you say, starting to slide off him, but Rafe catches your wrist, pulling you back.

“Nah, I got it,” he says, rolling out of bed, adjusting himself with a grimace. “Kid’s got my timing, I swear.” He grabs a pair of sweatpants, glancing back at you. “Stay right there. We ain’t done.”

You flop back against the pillows, half-laughing, half-sighing, your body still thrumming with need. The house is quiet again, save for Rafe’s low, soothing voice through the monitor, calming Luca with a murmured,

“Easy, buddy, you’re good.” You close your eyes, trying to hold onto the spark, but the weight of the day tugs at you, the constant interruptions a reminder of your life now.

When Rafe finally slips back into the room, closing the door softly, you’re propped up on your elbows, watching him. He looks tired but determined, his eyes glinting with that relentless drive you’ve always loved.

“Luca’s down,” he says, crawling over you, his lips hovering over yours. “Now, where were we?”

You smile, pulling him down, your kiss hungry, desperate, his hands less patient now, tugging your tank top over your head as you fumble with his sweatpants. The need is sharper, more urgent, and you’re just about to give in completely, his weight pinning you to the mattress, when—

“Mommy, I need water!” Max this time, his voice muffled but insistent from the hallway, followed by the unmistakable thud of his little feet.

Rafe freezes, a low laugh rumbling in his chest as he presses his forehead to your collarbone. “We’re cursed,” he mutters, and you laugh, the sound bubbling up despite the frustration coursing through you.

“I’ll go,” you say, still giggling, pushing at his chest. “Get him water before he wakes Ellie.” You slip out from under him, grabbing a robe and tying it around yourself, your body still tingling, your heart pounding from the nearness of him.

As you head down the hall, glass in hand for Max, you hear Rafe flop back onto the bed with a dramatic groan. You settle Max quickly, his sleepy request for “just one sip” turning into a negotiation about leaving the cup on his nightstand.

When you finally return, Rafe’s waiting, propped against the headboard, one arm behind his head, his eyes tracking you like a predator. The air shifts, heavy with intent, as you let the robe fall, climbing onto the bed.

“No more interruptions,” he says, voice low, almost a growl, as he pulls you onto his lap, his hands gripping your hips. “Lock the fucking door.” You laugh, reaching for the lock, your body already responding to his touch, the promise of what’s coming hanging in the air like a storm about to break.

𓂅 taglist ― @littlelamy @dollyfiles @drewstarkeyswife0 @icaqttt @urcoolgf @camercns

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©RAFESGREASYCURTAINBANGS ꪆৎ est. 2025

[whoevenisjavier]

EROTICA

part 1 | part 2

pairing: no outbreak!joel x reader

summary: Your thesis said, “analyze male behavior.” Joel said, “come sit on it.”

a/n: this is the 2nd part, which can't be read alone. i mean, you can read it without going through the first part (read it here), but you won't understand shit

additional tags/warnings: 18+, mdni. reader is 26, joel is 50ish. no outbreak. joel is a dad. conversations about porn. porn actor joel miller/javier peña. dirty talk. car sex. fingering. oral sex f! receiving.

wc: 6.5k

Out of shame, you avoid Joel the following week.

You dodge aisles when you see him at the supermarket, time your exits minute by minute to avoid running into him, and lock yourself in your bedroom like an emo teenager when your parents invite him over for dinner.

Because now, whenever you see him, all you can remember is his voice saying obscenities, his hands on women’s skin — and some men’s too. You remember yourself, in the privacy of your room, doing what you swore you would never do.

You even look up if there’s such a thing as a permanent fertile period, because none of this feels normal.

And of course, Joel confronts you about it.

On your father’s birthday night, he invites a few close friends over for a small cocktail party, followed by dinner. When you walk down the stairs, Joel is there, sitting in the living room armchair with a glass of whiskey in his right hand.

He’s listening to something your father is saying but glances at you. You immediately turn your back and head into the kitchen to see if your mother needs help.

Yesterday, you found a movie where Joel played a DEA agent rescuing a drug lord’s wife. He said so many filthy things to her while fucking her inside a police car that the words stuck in your head like Play-Doh in hair.

And maybe the area between your legs feels a little more sensitive too, which only makes you feel worse.

After the cocktail and dinner, spent tensely avoiding Joel’s gaze, you slip out into the backyard with a glass of wine in one hand and your Kindle in the other.

Inside, the party goes on, your father having opened another bottle of whiskey, and you can hear them from here. You need to stay out of your bedroom to keep yourself from typing "Javier Peña" into that damn search bar again, so for the next few minutes, you sip your wine and read.

“Finally, a place where you can’t hide behind the toilet paper aisle.”

Joel sits down on the chair next to you, holding his own whiskey glass. You lose your words because, yes, you actually did hide in the personal hygiene aisle yesterday when you saw him.

You play dumb.

“What are you talking about?”

“You know. You went all puritanical after you found out what you found out.”

“I told you it’s weird.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t want to be rude, but I don’t need your approval. My life and career are my own. I said I would help you with your thesis, and I will, but if you keep running from me, someone’s going to think there’s something wrong between us.”

You take another sip of wine in silence, staring at the lawn like it’s salvation. Joel’s gaze burns into the side of your face before he asks:

“Have you watched any more?”

“For the thesis.” A lie.

“May I ask which one?”

“The DEA one.”

“Hmm.”

He finds your eyes as he sips his whiskey. He’s sitting with his legs spread, making his jeans stretch tight over his groin and thick thighs. And you know exactly what’s under those jeans.

You can’t resist your curiosity:

“Do you miss acting?”

“My ego does,” he says, like he’s thought about it a thousand times. “Not gonna lie, there’s a certain masculine pride in being a porn actor. It’s easier for men. But personally? No. Especially because of Sarah.”

“She knows?”

He shakes his head.

“She does. I told her when she turned fifteen because I’d rather she hear it from me than stumble across it online.”

“How did she react?”

“Well, I guess.”

You shake your head and cover your face with your free hand, groaning a little.

“I can’t stop wondering if my mom knows about you.”

“I hate to break it to you—”

You cut him off. “Shhh.”

His laugh is low but genuine. Your eyes meet again, and this time, you could swear his gaze dips a little lower, to the neckline of your dress, where a bit of flushed skin is showing thanks to the wine.

But he disguises it and gestures toward your Kindle:

“What are you reading?”

“Some articles to help with my research.”

“Have my films led you to any conclusions?”

“Um, definitely,” you say, staring at the lawn. “You cussed a lot. And you seem very interested in my opinion of your movies.”

“I'm curious.”

You internally roll your eyes. Men.

“You want a performance review? Aren’t the comments on XVideos enough?”

“I want yours.”

You ignore him, because your evaluation of his performance was made perfectly clear when you got yourself off twice in a row thinking about his voice.

Instead, you ask:

“Did the DEA girl really come? Because it looked real.”

Joel stays quiet for a while. When you glance at him, you notice a small smirk playing on his lips as he taps his fingers against his glass. His whiskey’s almost gone.

“Do you really want to get into that?”

“Why not?”

A few more seconds of silence. Then he seems to say "fuck it" internally and answers:

“I liked making the other actresses come. Some directors didn’t like it because it took longer, and ‘who cares if they actually orgasm if they can fake it,’” he says, making air quotes. “But I liked it. Not all of them, of course, and sometimes they’d tell me they were fine without it, but it was a preference of mine.”

“And the DEA girl?” you press.

“Was that your favorite?”

You shake your head.

“Which one was?”

You shake your head again, indicating you won’t tell him.

“The DEA girl was my ex-girlfriend,” he says.

“So it was real.”

Joel shrugs, and that's all the answer you need. The porch light behind you highlights his graying beard and the glint of whiskey on his lips. Your throat goes dry.

“How did you get into the industry?”

Joel clicks his tongue.

“Very personal question.”

“Okay, what made you leave?”

He glances at your wine glass and ignores the question, asking another instead:

“What wine is that?”

You consider not answering out of petty revenge, but your parents raised you better.

“Barefoot. I know it’s cheap, but I like it,” you swirl the red wine in your glass. “Even though I know I’ll wake up with a headache tomorrow.”

Joel rolls his eyes and stands, leaving his whiskey glass behind.

“Come on, bring your glass. I’ll give you some real wine.”

He starts walking toward the gate between your houses, and you have no choice but to follow, leaving your Kindle and the party behind. Joel’s broad shoulders guide you around the side of his house and into the kitchen.

It’s silent and dark, except for a single hallway light. Quietly, because Sarah is probably asleep, you pass through the kitchen and head to a door leading to the garage, where the lighting is dim at best. His truck takes up almost all the space.

Unsure of what to do, you hover at the door, watching as he enters a small room off the garage. It’s a little wine cellar, concrete walls lined with slanted mahogany shelves.

Joel comes back out with a bottle in hand. You recognize the label and freeze.

“You’re not about to open a Rockford Flaxman.”

“I am,” he says, brushing past you just enough to close the door behind you, locking the two of you in the garage. His scent hits you, and you fight the urge to bury your face in the crook of his neck. “Just closing the door so Sarah doesn’t wake up. Hand me your glass.”

“Joel, that bottle’s expensive.”

“Hand me your glass,” he repeats.

You give it to him. Joel pulls a corkscrew from a drawer you hadn’t noticed and pops the bottle open effortlessly. He fills your glass halfway and, as he hands it back to you, asks:

“Mind if we share the glass?”

You shake your head.

From another drawer, he grabs his truck keys, disables the alarm, and turns on a tiny, terrible-quality radio. Duran Duran starts playing.

Joel gestures toward the truck:

“Come on. We can sit inside.”

Heart pounding a little faster, palms sweating, you climb into the passenger side. You settle into the leather seat and finally take a sip of the good wine.

It tastes fruity and oaky, almost sweet on your tongue. You let out a long, contented hum.

“Really good,” you say after swallowing. “Best way to end the night.”

His fingers brush yours as he takes the glass. You watch him savor a sip before handing it back.

He speaks as he does:

“I left the industry because the doubts about real consent started eating at me,” he says, answering the question you asked earlier. Joel leans back in the seat, legs spread, head resting against the headrest, eyes closed. “And I’m not just talking about explicit consent. I mean about the people who were there because they had no other choice.”

“I can’t imagine anyone doing porn unless they had to,” you murmur.

“I get it, but some people genuinely like it,” he meets your gaze as you sip more wine. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m serious.”

“Maybe for men...”

“It’s more common among men, true.”

You offer him the glass. He drinks and gives it back.

“The agency that managed my films didn’t like it when I started giving interviews about that stuff. They gave me fewer scenes or scripts I’d never agree to do, and I had to start turning them down. When they began sabotaging me, I left.”

“Scripts you wouldn’t accept?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” you accept the short answer. “No other agency made you an offer?”

“They did, but when I left, I didn’t want to go back.”

“And yet, you defend the industry.”

“I don’t defend the industry—I defend the work I did, because I know how it was done. I don’t like when you generalize.”

“You know that sounds like ‘not all men,’ right? Of course not everyone was bad, but the industry itself is terrible. So when I criticize it, it’s the majority I’m talking about. And you were exploited too.”

He exhales deeply. There’s more you want to say, but you sense it’s a sensitive topic, so you change the subject:

“Can I ask what you do now?”

“I invest,” he says simply. “I made a lot of money back then and wasn’t stupid enough to blow it on parties and drugs. I invested in public and private construction companies, and now they pay me back.”

“Didn’t expect that.”

Joel gives you a look.

“Male privilege. I got into a lot of good deals just because I was Javier Peña.”

“That wouldn’t happen to an actress,” you guess, and he nods. “So now you just live off your investments.”

“Pretty much.”

The wine in your glass runs out. Joel notices, grabs the bottle, and this time drinks straight from it. You mimic him, putting the glass in the back seat.

“How was it, being an actor?”

“Fun. Lots of parties, admiration, glamor, L.A., and sex all the time,” he says. “The downside was the strict diet, weekly waxing, and almost daily health tests. I probably have a permanent hole in my vein.”

“Did you only date people in the industry?”

“Not a rule, but it was easier, so mostly.”

“Sarah’s mom—”

“No, she wasn’t in it. She was a friend.”

You figure she’s not around anymore, considering you’ve never heard Sarah mention her.

“If someone offered you two million dollars today,” you start, trying to lighten the mood, and his face softens, “for a solo film. Just you, just masturbation. Would you do it?”

“No, because of Sarah. Okay, my old films are still out there, but they existed before she was born. It’s different.” Another sip of wine. Joel continues: “I don’t think I’d even know how to behave in front of a camera anymore.”

“That’s not the spirit of the Longest Cumshot Award winner.”

Joel’s eyes widen in shock, and you burst out laughing at yourself, raising both of your hands.

“I didn’t look it up, I swear. It’s just one of the first pictures that comes up when you search your name.”

“Tell me your favorite film,” he insists.

You think about refusing again, but the wine is warming your face and your throat, and the atmosphere is too cozy.

“The title is ridiculous,” you start, and he grunts for you to hurry up. “Something like ‘Lust Lives Next Door.’”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Where he’s the neighbor?”

Keeping a neutral expression, you sip more wine, feeling his gaze fixed on you.

“Why?” Joel asks.

“It felt so real. You looked so...”

You lose the words. He prompts you:

“So...?”

“I don’t know. You looked like you really wanted her. Sure, you always looked like that—you were an actor—but with her, it was different. At least to me.”

Joel studies you a moment longer. Then asks, seriously:

“Did you touch yourself watching it?”

Your cheeks burn.

“It’s normal,” you defend. “Inevitable.”

“Only with that one?”

“Joel.”

He exhales long and slow.

“If you’re uncomfortable, we’ll stop. I’ll walk you home.”

You open your mouth to joke about how ridiculous it is for him to walk you home when you’re literally neighbors, but the seriousness of his question leaves you speechless.

“I’m not a porn actress. I’m not used to this,” you murmur.

“Then just nod,” he suggests seriously. Your silence is taken as agreement.

He asks:

“Did you touch yourself to any other of my films?”

A pause, then...

You nod.

He breathes deeply.

“Did you watch my films only because of the thesis?”

You shake your head no.

“Do you imagine me doing those things to you?”

You feel like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff. One step back, and you’ll be safe, intact but with a pounding heart. One step forward, and you’ll fall, jump, dive into whatever awaits below.

The blood in your ears almost drowns out the start of “Glory Box” by Portishead playing from that shitty little radio.

You take a step forward.

You nod.

Before he can ask anything else, you’re the one who speaks:

“Do you want to see?” you ask, fueled by all the liquid courage from the wine. You clarify, “How I touched myself.”

The answer comes immediately:

“Of course I do.”

You glance at the garage door, then at him, hardly believing you’re about to do this. Before shyness can take over, you close the passenger door, slip off your sandals, and adjust yourself on the seat so your back rests against the door and your legs stretch across the console. You place your feet in Joel’s lap, and you can’t help but notice the hard bulge pressing against his jeans—you have to fight the urge to abandon everything and just beg him to take you to his room and do whatever he wants with you.

Okay. You take a slow, steadying breath to calm your racing heart. Joel’s hand settles around your ankle, his thumb brushing the bone there, and that small point of contact anchors you.

The dress you’re wearing is short, so it only takes a small tug for the fabric to bunch around your waist. With bare legs, goosebumped skin, and heavy breaths, you hand him the wine bottle.

Joel accepts it without taking his eyes off you.

“I’m not as confident as your porn actresses,” you say, but to your own ears your voice sounds pathetically breathless.

His touch trails up to your shin and back down, his hand wrapping around your left foot. He says:

“If you knew how many times I imagined myself between your legs, you wouldn’t feel insecure right now.”

Your breasts ache against the thin fabric of your dress as you spread your legs. You slide your hand into your panties, and Joel doesn’t look directly at it—he watches your face instead. He studies your reaction when your lips part at the feeling of your fingers touching the sensitive, wet spot between your thighs.

The knowledge that he’s wanted this just as badly as you makes you bolder.

You tilt your head back, resting it against the car window, and look at the ceiling while you speed up your fingers. Everything feels so sensitive that you have to bite your lower lip to keep any sound from escaping.

“Fuck...” Joel murmurs, his touch sliding up your thigh. “I can hear how wet you are.”

“Give me your hand.”

Joel takes one last sip of wine and sets the bottle on the ground outside the truck before offering his hand to you. You barely manage to meet his eyes as you pull your panties aside and guide his rough fingers between your legs.

His fingers glide easily over your clit, so wet that it’s almost slippery, and the feeling is so good—his fingers are larger, different textured than your own—and he lets you use them like a toy.

Joel’s gaze finally drops to where your bodies meet. With his free hand, he palms himself through his jeans, starting to rub.

It’s too much for your mind to process.

You squeeze your eyes shut again, using both your hands to guide his and spreading your legs wider. You have to breathe through parted lips to stop yourself from moaning as he rubs that almost painfully sensitive spot over and over.

“Does it feel good using my fingers like that?” he asks, voice hoarse. You nod. “Then let me fuck you with them.”

You whisper your agreement, guiding his fingers lower after making sure they’re slick enough. You press down gently, and his middle finger sinks inside you with a wet sound.

“Joel…”

“Hearing you moan like that and it’s not even my cock yet,” he mutters, fucking you slowly with his middle finger. “Let me add another one.”

You nod. He adds another finger, and you barely manage to hold in the moan, especially when he starts moving them in a slow, delicious rhythm, dragging the strokes out rather than speeding up.

It all happens so fast. One second Joel is pulling you lower, sliding your ass almost onto the console, and the next, he’s bending down and putting his mouth on you—his tongue tracing a quick, hot path from your entrance to your clit.

You clap a hand over your mouth and grab his hair with the other, the graying strands slipping through your fingers. The position can’t be comfortable for him, half off the driver’s seat and bent over you, but he doesn’t seem to care. His lips close over your clit, sucking and licking, while his fingers keep fucking you. His beard scrapes the sensitive skin of your thighs and the slick heat between your legs—and somehow, that only makes you hotter.

You tug his hair harder, pulling him closer into you, and you swear he’s smiling against you, his mouth opening over your clit.

The third finger teases your entrance, and just that promise is enough—you come with a muffled gasp, both hands buried in Joel’s hair as you ride his face. His beard will definitely leave marks on your skin.

Joel waits patiently until your body stops pulsing around his fingers, even though his occasional licks don’t exactly help. Then he pulls his mouth away and sits back in the driver’s seat, wiping his beard with his hand to clear the mess you left behind.

You barely have time to catch your breath before he grabs you with one hand and, steadying your hips with both, pulls you straight onto his lap.

“Hi,” you whisper, still breathless.

“Hi,” he says back.

“You kiss?”

“What?” He smiles, brushing a lock of hair off your forehead. “You asking if I know how to kiss?”

“I’m asking if you have any rules against it, because I really, really want to kiss you.”

“You do?” His thumb brushes over your lower lip, the crease between his brows soft and nearly invisible. “I’m all yours.”

With that permission, you wrap your arms around his neck and move closer, trying to control your ragged breathing. You keep your eyes locked on his as you kiss his bottom lip, then his top, tracing them with the tip of your tongue, pressing your thumbs under his jaw to coax his mouth open.

You run your tongue across the opening, and Joel fists your hair at the nape of your neck, finally taking the lead and kissing you back.

You’re consumed by the taste of expensive wine, a kiss you’d only ever imagined through a computer screen—and you realize the actresses hadn’t been faking their moans, because when Joel sucks your tongue into his mouth for the first time, the sensation ripples right through the core of you, and you whimper softly into his mouth.

“Take off your panties,” he murmurs against your lips as he trails kisses along your chin, your jaw, and down your neck. You move with him, adapting to the pace and hunger of his kisses.

As he reaches your collarbones, Joel tugs the thin straps of your dress down and pushes the fabric until it bunches at your waist. Your breasts are exposed to the cool garage air—and to his hungry mouth.

“Joel…”

His tongue laps at your nipple, and he grows impatient. He slides a hand between your thighs and yanks your panties down with little care. You hear the lace tear but you can’t bring yourself to care, not when seconds later Joel is maneuvering you onto your knees so he can pull the ruined panties off completely.

Then he balls the fabric in his left hand and brings it to his nose.

It should feel ridiculous—like some cheap porno move—but it doesn’t.

He isn’t doing it for show.

He’s doing it because—

Joel grabs your hair again, keeping you firmly in place, and lifts the panties to your own nose. His mouth hovers at your ear as he says:

“See?” Joel’s lips skim down your neck. You catch the unmistakable scent of your own arousal, and your cheeks burn. “You’ve been dripping wet since the moment you walked into this garage.”

“You’re wrong,” you say, pressing his arm to press the panties harder against your nose. You inhale loud enough for him to hear and murmur, “I’ve been wet since the moment you sat next to me in the backyard.”

Joel looks at you, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He stuffs the panties into the front pocket of his worn jeans before unbuttoning and pushing them down along with his boxers.

You probably stare at his cock like an idiot, because seeing it on a screen was one thing, but seeing it now—right in front of you, the subtle changes from age only making it better—hits you hard.

“You’re smiling. What, is my dick funny?” Joel asks.

You shake your head.

“Your dick is practically a shrine to me.”

Joel rolls his eyes, wiping the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

“I’m real fucking close to come just looking at you,” he mutters, and you feel a flicker of disappointment, but it seems to be true, especially given how hard he is.

Joel shifts you into place on his lap, adjusting you like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

He leans back against the seat, partially reclining, and grips his cock with one hand.

“Come here,” he says lowly, pulling you by your thighs. When his thick cock nestles between your legs, you realize what he wants.

You brace yourself on his shoulders, biting your lip to keep any sounds from escaping as you lift onto your knees just enough to start sliding yourself against him.

The slickness between your legs makes it easy—wet and slippery—and Joel groans, tipping his head back against the seat.

God.

He looks huge beneath you, between your thighs, in the way his hands grip your hips and travel along your waist and back up. The rigid heat of him rubs directly over your clit with every glide, and you wrap your hand around the base of his cock to press him even harder against you as you move.

Joel’s hands grip your hips so hard you wonder if you’ll have bruises tomorrow. He glances down between you, where your wetness has coated him, and mutters a filthy curse between his clenched teeth.

“These tits…” he growls, lowering his mouth back to your breasts, drawing you even closer. “Can you come like this?”

You nod, tugging his curls at the nape of his neck, moving faster when he sucks a nipple into his mouth, leaving a trail of wet heat on your skin.

“Turn around,” Joel orders, licking the corner of your mouth. “I want to come on your ass.”

You obey instantly.

He helps you twist around so your knees stay on the seat but your back is pressed against his chest.

Joel runs his cock through your soaked folds, nudging your clit with the head.

He gathers your hair in one hand, pulling it aside so he can kiss the sensitive skin at the base of your neck.

“Rub yourself on it,” he says, voice rough. Your only support is the steering wheel in front of you, which you cling to as you rock your hips back and forth, grinding down along his shaft.

“You’re gonna fucking kill me doing exactly what I tell you,” he mutters against your ear.

“I like when you tell me what to do,” you whisper, barely able to form the words with the way that familiar tension is building fast in your stomach.

“Yeah, baby, I can tell by how soaked you are.”

You don’t answer, focusing only on your own pleasure now, shifting so the thick length of him is perfectly aligned against your clit.

Your leg trembles, your mind blanking with the focus on your orgasm, and you have to bite down on your sweaty arm to keep from crying out his name.

“Feels good?” you ask, panting.

“Jesus Christ, sweetheart,” Joel rasps, his hand tightening around your throat just enough to tilt your face toward his so he can kiss your jaw, your cheek. The slick sounds of your bodies are filthy, but it only pushes you closer. “Been holding back this whole time not to fucking come inside that sweet pussy.”

And that’s all it takes.

You come with a silent scream, clinging to the steering wheel, shuddering against him as your orgasm rips through you.

“Get up,” Joel says urgently, and, trembling, you lift yourself on wobbly knees.

He pushes your dress up your back, squeezes your ass—and you know exactly what he wants.

You brace yourself against the steering wheel, arching your back for him, and Joel lets out a rough, desperate sound.

Between heavy breaths, you hear the slick noises of him jerking himself off, and it only takes a few seconds before you feel it—hot spurts of cum hitting your ass, dripping down the backs of your thighs.

After what feels like forever, Joel slaps your ass gently and wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you against his chest.

You let yourself collapse into him, feeling his heart pounding just as hard as yours.

You stay there for a moment, quiet, your lips dry when you finally whisper:

“Good wine.”

He laughs.

“Knew you’d like it.”

You close your eyes, tangling your fingers with his over your waist.

When you wake up the next morning, it’s to persistent knocking on the door.

Startled, heart racing, you open your eyes. At first, you don’t recognize the room you’re in, but then you feel Joel’s arm draped over your hips and everything from last night comes rushing back.

You two had cleaned up the garage as best you could, wiped down the seats of his truck, and then gone upstairs to his bedroom to shower together. You couldn’t bring yourself to leave, and he asked you to stay, so you texted your parents saying Joel needed you to sleep over (not a lie) because of Sarah, since he had to rush out for an emergency (a complete lie).

“Dad,” Sarah knocks again, and you have to replay last night’s events to make sure Joel actually locked the door before you both passed out. “Daaaad.”

He opens his eyes, still half-asleep, and pulls you closer against him. Sarah knocks again, and Joel grunts softly before calling out:

“Is the house on fire?”

She laughs.

“No, but you must be sick if you’re not up yet. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Just got in late last night.”

Quietly, you trace your fingers over his beard. He meets your gaze and catches your hand, kissing your knuckles before hugging you closer, and you’re reminded that you’re both still naked under the covers—every inch of his warm body pressed against yours.

“Hangover?” Sarah asks.

“Sort of.”

“I left you breakfast. The school bus is about to get here.”

You watch his expression soften.

“Thanks, baby girl. Have a good day. I’ll see you later.”

“Bye, Dad.”

You hear her footsteps fading down the stairs, and you smile at Joel.

“That was so sweet,” you murmur sincerely. “You call her ‘baby girl’.”

“She used to hate it when she was younger, but she gave up fighting me on it,” he says, his voice raspy from sleep, making something in your stomach flip. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” you whisper back.

Joel brushes his thumb over your cheek and temple, then asks:

“Do you regret it?” You frown, not understanding right away. He clarifies: “Last night.”

“Of course not. Are you crazy?”

“You fucked a porn actor,” he says conspiratorially.

“An ex–porn actor,” you correct. “And we haven’t even fucked yet. Why would I regret that?”

Joel shrugs.

“Aren’t you the one who hates them?”

“Joooel,” you groan, flopping onto your back. “We already talked about this. I hate the industry. I could never hate you.”

“If you say so.”

You turn your face toward him when you feel his hand sliding over your stomach, your hip, your breast…

“Well, now I have a very subjective perspective for my thesis,” you tease.

Joel smiles, raising an eyebrow.

“Imagine explaining that when someone asks how you gathered your results—you’ll have to say Javier Peña showed you personally.”

You barely manage to suppress the shiver that runs down your spine.

“Our little adventure would make a good movie,” you say, but instantly regret it, shaking your head. “Forget it. Just the thought of any image of me out there makes me sick.”

Joel stays silent, but there’s a stupid little smile on his lips as he props himself up on his elbow, lying sideways. His other hand, which was resting on your belly, slides lower. Past your hip, past your thigh, and back up again.

“What’s with that smirk?” you ask.

He licks his bottom lip.

“Remember when you asked me what my favorite kind of movie was?”

That’s the sentence that leads, twenty minutes later, to you lying on your side, your back pressed against Joel’s chest, the morning light streaming through the thick curtains.

He holds you firmly as you reach between your legs, guiding his cock inside you. You almost melt in his arms, feeling the thick veins pulse against your fingers.

“A little more,” Joel murmurs into your ear, sliding an arm under your thigh and adjusting your position to help you take him. You reach behind you, grabbing his hip. Inch by inch, he fills you.

You look down between your legs, watching the way you stretch around him, and it feels like the bed is dissolving under the weight of it.

“Joel.”

“I’m right here, baby,” he says. You see him licking three fingers before reaching down to your clit, just as he starts moving his hips.

The next few days in Lake Placid pass exactly like that.

Some nights, you sneak across your backyard to Joel’s house, and he usually meets you halfway, catching you on the stairs with a kiss before carrying you to bed.

Other times, he sneaks into your house and fucks you on your bedroom floor, because your bed makes too much noise.

You keep working on your thesis and stop watching Javier Peña’s old movies. You don’t need them anymore—not when Joel Miller is texting you saying he needs you in his bed.

On your last few days at home, your parents throw a barbecue. Among the guests are Joel and Sarah.

It’s Joel who finds you in the kitchen as you’re finishing seasoning the potato salad.

He leans against the counter across from you, holding a can of beer. You glance up from the potatoes to meet his gaze, and flashes of last night hit you—when you two had sex in a ridiculous roadside motel because Sarah was having a sleepover with her friends at home.

“And when you go back to New York?” he asks, and you immediately understand what he means.

You shrug.

“I’m not going to pressure you into a long-distance relationship. We don’t have a relationship anyway. And I don’t want a long-distance thing.”

“But I want you.”

You stab a piece of potato with your fork and bring it to his mouth. He accepts it, chewing slowly while waiting for your answer.

“I want you too,” you confess. “But I know you have other priorities.”

“So do you.”

You nod. “So do I.”

Somehow, it feels like a goodbye.

Two months later, back in New York, you type the final period on the last sentence of your thesis.

You stretch your arms over your head like you just won a marathon and then slowly slide to the floor, lying flat on your back like a starfish.

Your spine cracks, your wrists protest after three straight hours of typing, but you can’t wipe the huge, satisfied smile off your face—you’re free.

You grab your phone and text your friends:

“Thesis done. Beer to celebrate?”

You end up doing a full bar crawl, treating it like a birthday or something equally ridiculous.

All it takes is a low-cut top showing off your cleavage, a sweet voice, and the line “Do I get a prize for finishing my thesis?” to score free drinks all night.

You flirt with a few guys, but none of them make you want to drag them home. None of them have a Texas drawl, a graying beard, and the smirk of a retired porn star.

Actually…

You open your chat with Joel.

The last message from him, sent yesterday, is a photo of the same wine bottle you two opened that night in the garage. You had texted back “wish I was there,” and he’d replied with a kiss emoji.

He’d mentioned he was attending some adult film award ceremony as a presenter or something, but he didn’t say where.

He must have been busy all day.

Tonight, you type:

“went out drinking with some friends to celebrate finishing my thesis and can’t stop thinking about you. swear if you were here, i’d be blowing you under one of the bar tables.”

You put your phone away.

You down a tequila shot and laugh when your friend toasts to the end of grad school.

At three in the morning, you still haven’t gotten a reply from Joel.

You call an Uber after making sure your friends are safe, pulling your leather jacket tight around your body. The ride sobers you up just enough to make you crave a whole bottle of water.

That’s exactly what you do when you get home.

You peel off your pleated skirt and jacket, leaving yourself in just a wool turtleneck sweater, and you’re about to jump into the shower when your intercom buzzes.

You glance at the microwave clock: 3:54 AM.

You answer.

“Hello?”

“Delivery from Javier Peña.”

You gasp and immediately buzz him in.

Your heart is already racing as you open your apartment door, standing half-hidden behind it since you’re not wearing any pants.

You practically bounce with anticipation at the same time you convince yourself you’re not dreaming.

When Joel appears at the top of the stairs, it’s like all the blood in your body rushes to your head. He’s wearing glasses and has that stupid, cocky smile, dressed in a black T-shirt with two simple words printed across the front: adult content.

“I can’t believe you’re actually wearing that shirt.”

“The name of the studio that sponsored the awards ceremony,” he says, stopping in front of you.

He smells so good it makes you a little self-conscious about the sweat clinging to your neck from the night out.

“Heard someone finished their thesis,” he murmurs, stepping closer. “Figured I should congratulate you properly.”

[jakedustry]

𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐎𝐔𝐓 - 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐌

IN WHICH Jake Sim loves hockey, he loves it so much he is willing to spend his every free minute on the ice skating, but he also finds himself falling in love with you—the only girl his coach doesn't want him to date. But with the way you look at him, can he stay far enough to keep his position as the captain?

pairing– hockey captain!Jake x fem!reader

featuring– Enhypen members, Dani and Manon of katseye, Taehyun and Huening of txt, Keeho and Intak of piwon

genre– Fluff, Smut, slightly angst

warnings/contains– SMUT, simp!jake, kinda love at first sight, protective father, good relationships with parents, food mentions, Jake is very much a dream boyfriend, jake has a license, lots of teasing and flirting, secrete relationship, reader is told to be slightly shorter than Jake, nicknames/pet names used, parents get in the way of their relationship, masturbation (m & f), sexting, nudes exchange, oral (m & f), unprotected and protected sex, not proofread

word count– 25.5k

playlist »» ❝ It took five seconds to fall in love and two more to make you mine ❞ — Elijah Woods

↪ izzy adds... I've spend a good amount of time just looking at this picture of Jake instead of writing but honestly...can you blame me? It's the way he looks at me, I just can't adalhdlad Anyways, i'm glad to finally show you my baby because I've been meaning to write a hockey romance for sooo long. And what better present could I give myself than finally publishing it AND with Jake as the star character haha

m.list

Ice. Water. They were the same thing, right? And if water was a necessity, ice was as well, wasn’t it? Because truly, it was. 

There is no difference. Ice is simply frozen water, something we need to survive. 

And you needed ice to survive. The feeling of freedom when you moved around, the way your skates clung to your feet perfectly, and especially the memories the ice held. You couldn’t just give up on them, no matter how much you tried to. 

It wasn’t because you wouldn’t want to, in fact, you’d do anything to be able to step on the ice rink again, but it wasn’t within your capabilities to argue about the matter. It was overnight, without any previous warnings or discussions, and as you were picking up your things to leave for the ice rink before school, your dad stopped you, and your whole world had crumbled down. I don’t want you on my ice anymore. His words ring in your ears to this day, making you feel worse each time.

When you were younger, it was part of your daily routine to spend the afternoon there, hanging around with the players until late nights. One of the perks of being the NHL player’s daughter, you suppose. But then, in the blink of an eye, the father-daughter moments you loved so much, suddenly stopped. 

At first, he tried to excuse it by telling you you needed to focus on your studies, but the more time passed, the more obvious it became that he simply didn’t want you around. Whenever you asked him if you could join him when he had training, he brushed you off without any good reason. It didn’t matter who was on the ice, if he had a lesson with the kids or people your age—you just couldn’t go. 

It’s been four months since you last got to skate, and it felt like a part of you was missing. 

“Why don’t you just go when he isn’t around then?” Your roommate, Daniela, asks, her eyes softening when she notices your tired expression as you stare at your phone, looking through old pictures. “I don’t want to go behind his back,” you mumble without glancing up at her. 

“But you want to skate,” your other roommate, Manon, reminds you. You nod, putting down your phone and sighing as you notice the worried looks on their faces. “Well, then, how about we all go together? I might be able to get us in after closing hours,” you offer.

“I’m sorry, angel, I need to finish this project by midnight, so I can’t,” Manon excuses herself, and Dani follows soon after, saying she has two exams in the morning. “But you should still go,” she encourages you. “Go and have fun. We know how much it means to you,” Manon agrees with her, and you know you can’t back away now. You’ll definitely go tonight. 

As soon as your feet stepped on the ice rink, it felt as if everything was back to how it was supposed to be. The cold air hit your face and all your worries, all the stress you were feeling in the past few days, have washed off. You moved quickly, the blades of your skates cutting through the ice with ease. 

In that moment, you knew there was nothing else you needed. As long as you had the ability to skate, nothing else mattered. 

So, just like that, it became a routine. Every day, shortly after ten, you’ve gone to the ice rink, borrowing the keys from the manager and staying there for an hour at least. Daniela went with you from time to time, keeping you company as much as she could but at the end, you realized it was more convenient to just go alone, without having to worry about the time you’d leave or come back. 

You didn’t mind. You were skating again and that was enough. 

“Hello, Mr. Park,” you greet him with a smile, just like you had many times before. “You’re earlier than usual,” he comments, putting on his jacket and taking out a bunch of keys from his pocket. You smile, grabbing the keys from him. “I needed to get out,” you shrug. 

“You kids seem to do that a lot,” he shakes his head slightly. “School is a lot on you, huh?” You don’t answer, knowing just one look is enough as a response. When was it not a lot? “I see,” he nods, understanding. “In that case, I hope it helps you clear your head. Both of you.” 

“Both of us?” You frown as you tug the keys into your pocket. “Dani isn’t with me today, I’m alone.” 

You catch a change in his expression, a small yet visible flicker in his eyes, and it almost feels like he is planning something, as if there was something meaningful behind his actions. “Mr. Park,” you narrow your eyes at him, trying to see through him. He chuckles, sending you a warm smile before patting your shoulder and walking away. 

You watch him confusedly until his figure disappears and you turn around again. That was…weird, to say the least. Still, you decide not to pay it much attention and do what you always do—go on the ice. 

You smile, letting the feeling sink in before you furrow your eyebrows, the loud movement of the puck ringing in your ears. You look around, your eyes following the hockey player on the other side. You stare at the number 4 on his back, frowning when you realize you don’t recognize him. You always knew the names of every player on the team, their practice schedules, positions, and even the rankings your dad had for them. But now…you had no idea who this one was. 

A part of you hated your dad for it. 

You hated him for taking it from you. For taking the excitement you felt when you watched hockey players or figure skaters. Now, you felt like there was nothing connecting you to those sports. 

You take a seat on the closest bench, switching your shoes to your skates. You’re tying the laces when a loud pank interrupts you, the sound of the puck hitting the plexiglass making you flinch. You raise your head, watching as the boy stops in front of you when he sees you. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes, pulling his helmet off with his empty hand, his hair sweaty. “That wasn’t meant to attack you or anything.” 

“I’m fine,” you brush it off, standing up with a casual shrug. “It’s not me you should be worried about, though. But rather your aim,” you point out. “And that stop didn’t look exactly stable, either.” You see him scoff, and slowly make your way toward the nearest entrance to the ice, your skates cutting through the surface with ease. 

“And who are you to judge? What exactly makes you think you know better than me?” he challenges you, his voice dripping with amusement as he leans on his hockey stick. 

You chuckle, turning slightly to look over your shoulder. You smirk. “Should I show you?” you tease, not bothered to wait for his answer as you swiftly push, gliding towards him, picking up your speed. 

His dark eyes widen in surprise and he drops his stick, his helmet following right after, expecting you to bump into him. However, you’re ready for that. With a swift movement, you take a sharp turn around him, coming to a perfect stop just behind him. “How’s that?” you ask, your voice filled with playful confidence. 

“Pretty good,” he breaths out, laughing in awe as he turns around to face you. “What’s your name, figure skater?” He asks, the mockery at the words ‘figure skater’ painfully obvious. “I’m not a figure skater,” you clarify, your movements precise as you pick up his dropped hockey stick. “I can handle the puck just as well,” you grin, imitating his moves from before and quickly scoring into the net. You strike a mockingly exaggerated bow, your name slipping past your lips, almost like a laugh in his face. 

What an introduction. 

“I’m Jake,” he says before picking up his helmet from the ground. You smile, skating backward away from him with his hockey stick still in your hands. He follows right away, and it’d be impossible not to notice the grin on his face. 

You take a few rounds around the rink, joking around with him as you skate backwards so you can see him. He has a cocky grin on his face, and for the first time, you don’t mind. You always hated seeing that look on men’s faces, when they thought they were above you, above everyone. But for some reason, his smirk didn’t look the same. 

At that moment, you think it might have hit both of you. The spark, the flame burning deep down in your stomach as you laugh together over nothing. 

You slow down so he can catch up to you. “Are you on the hockey team?” You ask even though you already know the answer. Of course, he is. The jersey made you figure out as much. “Yeah,” he nods. “The captain himself,” Jake laughs, speeding up to get in front of you and get the roles switched. “But I guess the coach made a mistake if there is so much I still need to develop.” 

“I mean, you’re decent,” you smile. “Oh, thank you. I appreciate that, figure skater,” he teases you again, but this time, you don’t hear any annoying mockery in his voice. “And anyway, the coach doesn’t make mistakes. He must have had something in mind when he made you the captain, number four.” 

“You seem to know a thing or two about him, huh?” You shrug. For a moment, your focus fades away as you think about your dad. You could have known the team sooner. You could have hung out with them just like with any of the other guys your dad trained. Sure, back then, you were a kid, so it was mostly just them looking after you, but you loved it nonetheless. You would give anything to feel that again. 

Jake uses the lack of your attention, grabbing the bottom part of his hockey stick and pulling you with him. You snap out of your thoughts, holding on tighter so you wouldn’t fall, letting him drag you around the ice rink. 

You stumble forward when he pulls with his full strength and you let go of the stick to be ready for the fall but before you hit the ground, his arms catch you, spinning you around as if it was a part of a performance. You end up laughing again. Honestly, you lost count of the amount of times he had made you laugh. 

“Thank you,” you mumble when he stops again, sending him a grateful smile. “For everything.” Jake shakes his head, “I didn’t do anything.” — “You did everything,” you correct him. “I needed this. So, thank you for reminding me why I love skating again.” 

Jake’s bag swings over his shoulder as he walks out of the ice rink with you, your bag in his other hand, despite all your protests. He insisted on carrying it for you, saying something along the lines of wanting to be gentleman-like. So you let him. 

“What exactly are you actually, figure skater? If you don’t play ice hockey or figure skate either, then what do you do?” He wonders as you lock the door behind you. “Nothing and everything,” you proclaim. “I grew up on this ice. I watched every game the Tigers played for the past thirteen years,” you shrug as if it was completely normal. It was normal, though. For you, at least. 

“So, are you some sort of Mowgli of the ice?” Jake laughs, causing you to do the same. “I guess you could say that. Even though it were still people who raised me, sometimes I feel like the ice rink had a big part in it too.” He nods, humming in response.

Jake ends up walking you to your dorm that night. You never mention who your dad is, nor what your last name is, because you don’t think it’s important. You talk about everything else with him—from your major, through your childhood hobbies, to your friends. You tell him all about it, and he tells you all about everything that he can think of at the moment as well. 

“Then, I’ll see you around, figure skater?” He wonders as he hands you back your bag, running his fingers through his hair. “Maybe,” you smile. “I hope you learn to stop more smoothly until we meet again, number four.” He chuckles, nodding. “I’ll do my best,” he promises, awkwardly snapping his fingers as he points at you and swallows what he wants to say next. You raise your eyebrows, questioning what it is, but he shakes his head, not saying anything else. He sends you one last smile before turning around on his heel. “Good night, figure skater.” 

“Night,” you mumble softly, smiling when you open your dorm door. 

“You’re acting weird,” Manon comments, eyeing you from across the room. You look up from your notes in your lap, raising an eyebrow at her in confusion. “What do you mean?” 

“Your book is upside down,” Dani points out and your eyes immediately fall down again. You quickly turn the book around, embarrassed. “For the last few days, you’ve been completely out of it. Why?” 

“I just can’t focus,” you sigh, resting your head against the headboard of your bed tiredly. “Tests?” Manon asks, but you’re not sure, honestly. Ever since that night, since you’ve met Jake, you couldn’t get him out of your head. You couldn’t stop thinking about how the hockey team was doing this season, who was on the team, and if your dad was still just as strict with them as before. 

You just wanted to be a part of the life again. 

“Boys?” Daniela chimes in. You give her a look—almost a warning one, but it only creates a smirk on her face. “Bingo.” 

“What boys? What do I not know about?” Manon’s eyes widen, searching for answers in your eyes. “Nothing,” you shoot back. “There’s no one. I’m thinking about the Tigers.” 

“Those, Angel, are men as well,” she reminds you with a teasing grin. “Some fine ones, may I add.” You roll your eyes at her, but you don’t argue. You might have only met one of them so far but if his teammates looked anything like him, it was only another reason to meet the team. 

You needed to convince your dad soon, no matter what. 

“So, what about the Tigers?” Dani asks, the study notes on her desk long forgotten as she turns all her attention to you. “I’ve heard they are doing pretty well this season. Apparently some good first years joined this year.” You hum in response, thinking about it for a second. 

“I met their captain a few days ago, he was training when I got to the ice rink so we skated together,” you admit, watching their eyes widen in excitement. “It was nothing like that,” you roll your eyes at them even though a part of you knows it was like that. You can’t forget about the way he made you feel that day. “It just got me to miss them even more. You know, watching their trainings and stuff.” 

Their eyes soften and you shake your head when you notice the pity in their expressions. “Good thing Uni is keeping me busy anyway,” you joke, but the sadness in your voice is painfully obvious. Still, they don’t press you any more, understanding when it’s the time to just stay quiet.

It’d be silly to say Jake found his love at first sight. 

Still, he can’t seem to get you out of his head, and it’s getting to the point it disturbs his everyday life. 

“How about you stop thinking about getting your dick wet and focus, captain?” Jake’s roommate asks, dropping his notes in front of him. The black-haired boy snaps out of his thoughts, picking up the small notebook. “What’s this?” He frowns, opening the first page. “Ideas for our next game’s tactics. Discuss it with the coach if you like any of it.”

“And really, start paying attention. If you fail your exam just because of some stupid girl and we lose our captain, I’m going to beat you up.” Jake laughs, nodding. “I’ll pass, Jay. I’ve been studying,” he assures him, but the snort that leaves Sunghoon’s lips on the other side of the room makes Jay worry again. “What?” He raises his hands in the air in defence when he sees Jake glare at him. “I didn’t say anything.” 

“You didn’t need to,” Jake rolls his eyes. 

“Look, guys, you don’t get it. You should have seen her! She was so cocky! She thought she could skate better than me!” He exclaims, a smile appearing on his lips as he thinks about the girl he met two weeks ago. “Honestly, she might have been better,” he chuckles. “I just know I was supposed to meet her there.” 

“And here he goes again with the fate thing,” Sunghoon scoffs, turning around on his chair to focus on his new skating choreography instead. “If you two are fated as you say, why haven’t you met again, huh?” Jay shakes his head at him, sighing. “Just look over the game plans. I’m going to the library,” he waves his two roommates a quick bye, grabbing his bag from the floor and leaving the dorm. 

The room falls silent for a moment before Jake speaks up again. “What if I went to see her?” 

“Oh God,” Sunghoon groans. There was nothing good that could come out of this. No matter how he looks at it, Jake’s sudden obsession could only go left. Still, it didn’t stop him. Before Sunghoon could say anything else, try to explain why it wasn’t the best idea, Jake was already up on his toes, packing up his laptop and some books for his afternoon lesson. 

“It’ll be fine,” he proclaims when he sees his roommate’s face, chuckling at his worries. “I’ll just say a quick hi to her, maybe get her number, and then I’ll go. I have math anyway, remember?” Sunghoon sighs, shaking his head. He lets him go, though, deciding to leave it up to him to deal with whatever he is planning to start. 

Jake hesitates as he stands in front of the same door he last saw you at, debating what he wants to say. Just as he reaches his hand up to knock on the door, the wooden furniture flies open and he almost bumps into a blond that tries to leave the dorm. He quickly blinks a few times, asking her if she’s okay. 

“Yeah, no worries,” she brushes it off, her eyes wandering all over his face curiously. “I feel like I’ve seen you before.” 

“Ah,” he offers his hand for a handshake with a smile. “Jake Sim. I, uhm, am the captain of the hockey team.” She chuckles as she shakes his hand, connecting the dots. “Daniella Avanzini.” 

Jake awkwardly rubs the back of his neck as he looks at her, realizing that he really had no plan at all when he came here. She, however, just smiles at him, and as if she knew what was going on through his head, she informs him you’re not home at the moment. He nods, quickly apologizing as he turns on his heel to leave. 

“Wait,” she stops him, her grin somehow mischievous. “She mentioned you before, just so you know. If you want, she plans to go skate at ten tonight again. I need to study so I can’t go with her, maybe you could keep her company.” 

Without realizing what he is doing, Jake’s lips turn into a smile and he nods, saying his goodbye quickly and running to his lesson. 

It’s six when Jake arrives at the ice rink, cursing himself out for being late. Coach was going to kill him sooner or later. He does his best to change as fast as possible but when he steps on the ice, it’s already 6:12. 

“Sim, you’re late!” Coach yells at him from across the rink, only sparing him a mare look before turning his attention back to the boys in front of him, watching them closely. “Practice speed drills,” he proclaims, quickly entrusting for Jay to lead it as he walks towards the team captain. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” Jake apologizes without hesitation. “I got caught up in school work but I’ll make sure I’m on time from now on.” Coach scoffs, shaking his head slightly and patting his shoulder. “I get it kid, don’t worry about it.” Jake confusedly glances Jay’s way but he is too busy with his own thing to notice. Something feels wrong. He shouldn’t be this understanding. 

“You–You do?” 

Coach chuckles, nodding. “I have a kid myself, I know how hard it can be for you youngsters.” 

Jake’s brows furrow but he nods anyway. He isn’t sure why he is so calm about it but if Coach is in a happy mood, he doesn’t need to piss him off. “Right, thank you,” he mumbles, offering a small smile before putting on his helmet and joining the others. 

“Dude, how are you this late and still alive and breathing?” One of the guys, Huening, asks as he comes to a stop right before the captain. Jake simply shrugs, glancing back at the coach again. “Not sure, but not complaining either,” he says, patting Kai’s shoulder slightly as he looks around to see how everyone’s doing. 

“Okay, I need to warm up. Jay, you got it for a bit?” He calls at the older man, receiving a simple nod in return. “Okay! No more lazing around, let’s go!” Coach yells at the same time as Jake starts moving again, tilting his head slightly. This seemed more like the coach he knew so well. 

The training goes on; from passing, through rebound drills to a full practice game where Jake almost curses out one of his closest friends, Heeseung, after they collide together and both bump into the plexiglass, causing Jake’s vision to blur for a few seconds. And when they finish, they all skate to one side where Coach is already waiting for them, a pen and notebook in his hands. 

Jake groans, tiredly plopping down onto the ice and taking down his helmet, brushing his sweaty hair back so they won’t get in front of his eyes. The rest of the team follows shortly after, until it’s only the coach standing. 

“Okay, first off, you all did well today, and I’m sure you know what you each need to work on so I’m going to make it short,” he says before handing his notes of the practice to the captain so he can go through them with his teammates later. “I won’t be able to be here on Friday so please, practice just as if I was and focus on the things I pointed out,” he continues, signaling to the notebook Jake is holding. “And after you’re done, you’ll find videos from some games in my office, take it as your homework and study them before our next game.” 

They all chant in unison, assuring him they will. “Alright, any questions or suggestions from anyone?” Jake looks around. “Well, actually,” Huening clears his throat nervously. “I’ve been thinking– I mean, we’ve been thinking,” he directs to a few guys around him. “A lot of teams gain their popularity online and you know, we only have our instagram account that no one really visits anyway. Maybe…we could get a media girl or something?” 

“A media girl?” Coach questions. 

“Someone who would film videos for us, take pictures and take care of our media for us,” Taehyun explains simply. 

“More people would know about us that way which also means more people to cheer for us at games,” Heeseung joins in. “More pretty girls thirsting over us,” he adds with a laugh, high-fiving with Keeho beside him. 

The coach tilts his head, watching the boys in front of him as he thinks about it, eventually nodding. “Sure, if you can find someone who’s willing to, then why not,” he approves and the guys cheer quietly. 

Jake’s eyes widen as it hits him, immediately raising his head to join the conversation. “I think I know of someone.” Jay catches the small spark in his eyes and shakes his head, knowing damn well what he was thinking about. He wasn’t even surprised. 

“So, who are you thinking about?” Keeho asks as he takes off his gear in the locker room. Jake’s lips turn up into a smile just at the thought of you, and that’s enough for all the guys to corner him, questioning him about this someone on his mind. “What? Are you too scared one of them is going to flirt with her before you can?” Jay teases, shaking his head as he walks into the showers, a towel wrapped around his waist. 

“Oh? So your girl?” Heeseung wraps his hand around Jake’s shoulder but he escapes right after, grabbing his towel quickly to run to the shower instead. “Not my girl. Yet, at least,” he finally speaks up, disappearing before anyone can say anything else. 

Jake might not be the most responsible person on Earth or the most punctual, but when he knows a girl he can’t stop thinking about will be somewhere at ten, you can be sure he will be on time. 

Your eyes widen when you notice him sitting at one of the benches, a phone in his hands and his skates ready on his feet. Unlike the other day, this time he isn’t wearing his gear. He has a simple dark grey hoodie on with black pants, and you can’t help but smile. 

“You got lost, number four?” You ask as you slowly approach him. He looks up from his phone, grinning as he puts it aside. “My name is Jake, figure skater,” he reminds you while still keeping up. He watches you as you sit down next to him, putting on your skates. “And I am not a figure skater, Jake,” you say, unable to contract your smile as you glance at him again. 

“Guess I’ll have to think of a new nickname for you then.” 

“I guess you will,” you nod, standing up when you finish lacing your skates. “I’m not sure what you’re doing here but…first to be on the other side wins?” you suggest playfully, already stepping on the ice before he can even register your words. As soon as he does, he quickly tries to catch up to you, putting all his skills to use just to be faster than you. 

And he manages, even though it’s not the way he’d want. 

Just as he catches up to you, you step badly and the next thing he knows, you’re on the ice and he is turning around to get to you again as fast as he can. “Are you okay?” He asks, the worry in his voice painfully obvious. You take his hand when he offers, standing back up awkwardly. “I’m good.” 

He sighs in relief, shaking his head at you slightly. He ruffles your hair and you yell immediately, making him laugh. “Alright, bambi, I think I won. What’s my reward?” He teases, the nickname making you frown. “Bambi?” He only smirks, slowly skating away from you, not taking his eyes off you in the process. “Fine, what do you want?” You ask, your skates cutting through the ice once again as you follow him. 

“We need a media girl,” he admits without a second thought. “I said I would find one. And I want you.” His words send shivers down your spine. You bite your bottom lip, watching him nervously while thinking about it. But really, if Jake tells you he wants you, can you refuse? 

“The coach agreed to this?” You ask before giving him an answer. As much as you’d love to hold onto this excuse to be on the rink, you still don’t want to just go behind your dad’s back like this. “Yeah, he said I can handle it. He has a big thrust in me, you know,” he says proudly, making you chuckle. “I’m sure he does.” 

“We have practice on Friday. Come by, I’ll introduce you to the team and you can decide then. I’ll understand if they piss you so much you won’t want to work with them,” he jokes. 

“And what if you’ll be the one annoying me so much that I decide not to?” You grin and he rolls his eyes. You manage to do a full lap by then, still following him around the ice rink. 

“Also, I want two rewards,” he proclaims all of a sudden before stopping. You mimic his movement with a raised eyebrow. “And why exactly should you get two?” 

“Because I’m amazing?” Despite his lame act, a chuckle escapes your lips and he knows he’s already winning. “Egoist maybe, yeah,” you smirk, scanning his face with your eyes. “Okay, what is it? I warn you though, if it’s stupid, I’ll kick you to the balls.” 

“Not my kids!” He fake-gasps dramatically, putting his hands in front of his crotch to prove his point. You laugh again, shaking your head. He smiles when he sees you, and the moment you notice it, you feel like something shifts between you. You swallow a lump in your throat, prompting him to finally tell you what he wants. You know you will definitely think about that smile of his later, though. 

“Okay, jokes aside, I want your number,” he admits, your eyes widening. “Why?” He chuckles. “What do you mean ‘why’? I want to be able to talk to you. I mean, what if I decide to stay late for training and need a goalie?” 

“So that’s what I’m good for, huh?” 

“That and maybe…just in case I feel a bit lonely here all alone,” he whispers, skating away again before you can say anything. You take a deep breath, sorting out your thoughts before you follow him, taking a turn towards the exit while he takes another lap around. 

You grab his phone from the bench, showing it to him. “Come here and unlock it if you want it!” You don’t have to say more. Jake doesn’t show any signs of hesitation before rushing to you, barely stepping off the ice as he takes the phone away from you. You chuckle at how determined he is, writing down your number when he hands you the phone again. 

“Why exactly am I a bambi now?” You frown as you watch him add a contact name. “Smile,” he says instead of answering, positioning the phone right in front of his eyes to get a picture of you from his perspective. He isn’t much taller than you but you still look up, forming an awkward smile. You’re not sure why, but there is a smile on his lips when he lowers his phone again. A smile so adorable you want to savor it. 

“Bambi is a cute animal,” he proclaims suddenly, making you blink a few times. “And even though you scared the shit out of me for a moment when you fell down, you were kind of like a bambi.” 

“I’m not sure what that means or if I like it.” 

“I’m telling you you’re cute,” he clarifies and a blush creeps up your cheeks. “See?” He shows you the picture of you he just took and your cheeks just redden. You do look pretty cute in that. “Thanks,” you mumble, avoiding eye contact with him and trying to get past him on the ice again. He laughs quietly at that but still steps aside to let you go, putting his phone back down. As he turns around to join you again he stops for a second, simply admiring you as you spin around, doing a few tricks as you have the space now. 

A part of him wishes to watch you like this forever. 

“Did you know I’d be here?” You ask as you walk side by side with him outside, your hands in your hoodie pocket to keep them warm. “I did,” he admits. “I met Daniela earlier today when I stopped by your dorm and she told me you’d be here at ten.” Dani, I need to thank you for the rest of my life, you think, chuckling softly. “I see.” 

“She seems nice.” 

“She is,” you agree. “And so is Manon.” Jake smiles, fixing the strap of your bag as it falls off his shoulder. “Wait, shit, that means they’ll ask me about you,” you groan at the realization. Maybe you weren’t going to thank Dani for so long after all. Yes, you did enjoy your time with him but that didn’t mean you were ready for their questions when you got back. Honestly, a part of you wanted to keep it just between the two of you. A secret only you two knew about. 

“Oh, yeah? What are you going to tell them?” He teases, leaning slightly down to reach your ear. You roll your eyes at how cheeky he sounds, pushing him off again. “That you’re childish.” 

He chuckles. “And? What else?” 

“That you still can’t skate.” He fake-gasps. You bite your bottom lip, rethinking your words as you remember the moments you spent with him on the ice. “And, maybe, that I enjoyed tonight,” you mumble, so quietly he almost doesn’t hear you. 

“So you do like me!” He grins, clenching his fist in excitement as if he had just won a match against the strongest team in the league. You scoff, shaking your head at him. “You’re an idiot.” 

“Idiot you might consider going out with?” Jake asks, turning his head to face you, the hope in his eyes obvious. Your breath catches in your throat, the question loud and clear. Your eyes widen and you quickly glance at him to see if he’s being serious or just joking around. When you gaze into his eyes, you get your answer. 

“Maybe,” you mumble, averting your gaze again. “If you try hard enough.” 

And he does. He tries as hard as he can. Not only does he walk you to your door again, almost being dragged in by Manon when she sees him, but when he gets to his own dorm, he’s already texting you. It’s a stupid question, one that makes you raise your eyebrow, but it gets the job done, and you end up texting him for the rest of the night. 

You don’t think you’d be able to hide the smile he creates on your face even if you wanted to. 

Especially when he keeps sending you random pictures. Of his face, his roommates, of the notes he is studying at the moment, anything and everything. He’s cute, you have to give him that. 

Your Thursday lessons pass by in the blink of an eye and Friday rolls in faster than you’d expect. Jake provided you with the team practice schedule the day before and you were never this happy to know most of your lessons were in the morning and didn’t collide with any of their practice hours. 

You weren’t sure how you’d face your dad just yet, but that was a fight for your future self. Right now, the first thing on your list was to get out of your room as fast as possible so you can still make it to class on time. 

“You know, just saying like, you don’t need any makeup. So maybe, if you just ditched that, you won’t have to rush so much now,” Jake comments, watching you as you sit at your table, finishing up your hair. You glare at him. “I’m not letting you here again,” you warn him and he immediately raises his hands in surrender. “I got you coffee, come on!” You avert your gaze again so he wouldn’t see your smile. Because he did, and god damn. Who would have thought a man showing up at your door in the morning with a cup of coffee could be so fucking attractive? 

Manon and Dani left shortly after he came but they didn’t forget to mimic kissing together before they walked out of the door. You had to roll your eyes at them because even though Jake’s lips looked attractive, you weren’t just going to make out with him in your room when you were already running behind so much. 

“Okay, let’s go,” you proclaim, quickly collecting your books into a bag as you glance at him. He’s smiling when his eyes lock with yours, and it makes you melt just a bit more. “What?” you question, feeling slightly embarrassed with his eyes on you. “You’re pretty,” he says, standing up from your bed and handing you your cup of coffee. You blink a few times but before you can say anything, he is already out of the door. 

“Jake, you’re impossible,” you mumble, feeling your cheeks heat up. 

You catch up to him quickly, sipping on your drink as you walk side by side with him, sneaking glances at him until he calls you out on it. “You can just say you like my face and I’ll let you look at it all day but don’t be this secretive about it. You’re not good at it anyway,” he chuckles and you close your eyes in regret. You weren’t sure if letting Jake into your life was such a good idea after all. 

What even were you doing, honestly? Skating together at night, texting all day and at night where you should be long asleep, and now this. Why exactly did he just turn up at your door unannounced with your favorite coffee order as if it was normal? As if he’s been doing it for ages. 

But no matter how weird or rushed it might seem, it felt somehow right. You didn’t mind the attention he was giving you, and you definitely didn’t want him to stop. If anything, a part of you was just waiting for him to take a step forward. 

“I’m not looking at you,” you argue, averting your eyes. 

“Right, and I’m absolutely terrible at hockey,” he scoffs, shaking his head. “It’s fine, you can steal glances all you want. But just because it’s you.” 

You feel your heart skipping a beat at his words. He had his way of gently flirting with you and it was making you crazy. You knew he was interested in you, you’d be blind not to notice that, but you still didn’t know what to do with his compliments and flirting, how to react to them. 

When you got to class, you thought that was your moment, a free minute to think about everything and figure it out, figure Jake out, but you’ve barely settled down in the class when your phone buzzed, announcing a message from no one else but the lost puppy himself. 

Jake: one attachment You: what exactly am I looking at?  Jake: flowers You: yes, I see that You: but why? You: also don’t you have a lesson?  Jake: oh, no, I’m free for another hour so I’m just walking around campus Jake: saw these and thought of you

You stared at the messages, a blush spreading across your face. He couldn’t get any better. Everything he did, every little comment or action, made you feel important, seen. And honestly, you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep talking to him without pulling him into a kiss and claiming him yours. 

Because right now, there was nothing you wanted to do more. 

At five, you arrived at the ice rink, the loud chatter of the boys from the locker room reaching you right after you stepped inside. You chuckle at it, the familiar feeling making you at ease. You sit down at one of the benches, pulling out your phone and scrolling through your messages—a few emails from the school, a message from your girls, wishing you good luck, and also a text from your mom. You quickly open the text, smiling softly as your eyes land on a picture of your mom in a red dress, asking you if she looks good. You immediately tell her that she’s beautiful and ask her what she’s getting ready for. 

Just as you do, the guys’ voices grow louder and you look up, watching them step on the ice one after another. You immediately find Jake with your eyes, your smile widening as he waves at you, skating to the plexiglass in front of you. “Come here, I’ll introduce you.” 

You step on the ice in your sneakers, awkwardly smiling at the few boys staring at you. “Coach is out today, said he’s got something with his wife. He might seem a bit scary at first but he is nice, the biggest Tiger of us all,” he explains with a smile, his hair falling in front of his eyes. So that’s what mom is getting ready for, you realize. 

“Oh, wait, you probably know him already, right? Would be weird if you haven’t after, what, thirteen years, huh?” He laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck, quietly cursing at himself to just shut up. You chuckle, sending him a reassuring smile, your heart making a little flip at the way he remembers your words. 

“Okay, well, these are the tigers. Boys, our new media girl,” your name sounds fancy on his lips, little too good, honestly. You scan the faces in front of you, a few familiar ones you remember from the hallways or parties. “If you need any help, feel free to text me,” a taller guy skates towards you, reaching his hand out. You grab it hesitantly, your eyes narrowing at the smug smirk on his face. 

“Back it off, Hee,” Jake warns him, almost pushing him out of the way, which only gets the older man to laugh. “No need to worry. I’m not stealing your girl,” Heeseung chuckles, turning his head towards Jay with a knowing grin. They exchange a few words but you don’t catch them anymore, not when Jake starts talking to you, mumbling a quiet sorry. 

“It’s fine,” you shake your head. “But…” a smile spreads across your lips as you gaze into his eyes, tilting your head slightly. “Your girl? How come I don’t know about that?” The worry in his eyes disappears, a hint of mischief replacing it. “They can probably just see the look in your eyes,” he proclaims, leaning in closer to reach your ear. “You’re basically undressing me with your gaze, Bambi.” 

You scoff, but before you can say anything, Jake is already skating away, leading their training and you have no other choice but to go back to the bench and think about it, about him. Were you doing that? Surely not… right? 

You watch Jake lead the practice and something in your shifts. As if he wasn’t already attractive enough, seeing him like this, helping everyone out and yelling at them what to do, he felt somehow hotter. 

Maybe you were actually undressing him with your eyes when you thought about it. 

And as if that wasn’t already enough on its own, every chance he got, he found a way over to you, asking you what you thought about them, if you were enjoying yourself, and also occasionally just saying a stupid joke that just came to mind. You laughed each time. Because no matter how stupid the joke might be, you weren’t thinking straight at the moment. 

“So, what do you think? Am I good?” He leans against the plexiglass, a smug smile on his lips. You shake your head with a chuckle, stepping closer to him. For a moment, you completely forgot about the other guys on the other side of the rink, only focusing on the golden retriever in front of you. “You’re not too bad.” 

“In that case,” he starts, quickly glancing around to make sure none of his teammates are standing behind him, ready to tease him to death the moment they hear him say the words out loud. “Can I finally take you out? Who wouldn’t want to date the greatest player on the hockey team?” 

You roll your eyes at his confidence but don’t refuse. Instead, you think. “Alright, Manon and Dani will be gone for the weekend but I said I’d stay at the dorm. If you want, you can come over and we can watch something.” 

He narrows his eyes, shaking his head. “No.” 

“No?” 

“I want a proper date with you. Not fuck you on the couch with a movie in the background just because you have an empty place,” he states, gazing into your eyes. Even though, if he was honest, he could still fuck you on the couch after the date if you wanted. 

Your breath hitches just so slightly as you look at him, averting your eyes. God damn it, Jake. He was better and better each second, and if he was in for the long game, so were you. “Fine, then pick me up,” you mumble, refusing to look at him again. But Jake doesn’t mind because he heard what he wanted, and he couldn’t be happier at the moment. 

You groan and close your eyes as you hear Jake turn around and yell “She said yes!” at his teammates, regretting your choice of date for a second. But when he glances at you again with his little boyish grin, you completely forget about it, telling him to get back to practice with a smile on your face. 

When the practice wraps up, your phone is full of pictures you took of the boys as they practice (most of them of Jake because every time he saw you pulling out your phone, he got into the shot), and it makes you smile again. Just being here with them makes you happy. Watching them bicker and tease each other, it was exactly what you were missing before. 

A few of the guys pat your shoulder as they leave, something about wishing you good luck but honestly, Jake is the only one you can focus on again. “Undressing me again, aren’t we?” He teases and you roll your eyes. “You’re on thin ice, boy. Might have to reconsider our date,” you warn him and he immediately raises his hands in surrender. 

“Okay, my mouth is shut,” he says, getting off the ice as well. He takes off his helmet, his lips turning up in a smile again as he watches you. “Wait for me? I’ll be quick.” You nod without a second thought, agreeing. 

It’s the third time he walks you back to your dorm from the ice rink. It might seem like a simple gesture, and really it is, but you still feel the warmth in your chest. You find yourself opening up to him more than night, sharing a few of your dreams and places you want to visit with him and he doesn’t miss out on the opportunity to offer you to go there with you. You brush him off but honestly, when you think about it, it doesn’t sound bad at all. 

“Darling, we haven’t seen you in so long. I miss you.” You smile gently as you listen to your mother’s voice, sipping on your morning coffee. At eleven. “I know, I’m sorry. But I have a break in a month, I’ll definitely come home then, I promise,” you say, a part of you feeling sorry that you haven’t been around for so long. Your mom sighs, putting her hand over the phone microphone as she shares the information with your dad. You catch a glimpse of his voice in the background but it’s not loud enough so you could make out words out of it. 

“And why not this weekend, Angel? I’ll make your favorite food.” You hesitate for a second, debating on if you should tell her or not. But in the end, honesty wins. After all, it’s your mother who you’re talking about. The same woman who held you in a tight hug after your first breakup, who told you stories about princes, saying she wishes you nothing less than a charming prince who would love you dearly. You knew she’d be happy to hear about it. Even if it means you won’t come home this weekend. 

“I’ve actually got a date later tonight,” you mumble and the soft gasp that leaves her lips makes you chuckle. “Oh my! Who is the lucky boy?” 

“He’s…” a smile spreads on your lips as you think back to the puppy-like-boy who’s been flirting with you since you first met him on the ice rink. “An engineering student. He…He’s nice to me, mom. And makes me smile a lot. I like him.” 

“That’s great,” she nods, approving quietly. “In that case, I hope you’ll have fun tonight. And, darling.” You narrow your eyes, catching the suspicious tone in her voice. She has something planned and whatever it is, it can’t be good. “If it works out, bring him with you next time. I’d like to see him.” And you were right. Even though you knew your mom would love Jake if she met him and that Jake would love your mom, thinking about bringing him to meet your parents when you haven’t even had one date yet wasn’t something you wanted to do. 

Still, you force a smile, almost as if she could see you through the phone. “Of course. I’ll see how it goes.” 

The conversation changes shortly after as she asks about Manon and Dani. You tell her about how they are doing in school, how you are holding up, and the conversation just flows naturally after that. 

At one point, she hands the phone to your dad and you repeat everything you just said, well, except for the fact you were going on a date. While your mom was always excited when you told her about boys you were interested in, you saw the way your dad’s jaw clenched just at a mention of a boy’s name. And while you loved being his little princess while you were little, you thought his overprotectiveness now was unnecessary. 

It’s around five when you hear the knock on the door. You get up from the chair you’ve been sitting in and open the door, your eyes falling on Jake immediately. He is wearing jeans and a simple white shirt with his denim jacket over it but god, he looks fine. 

“Why didn’t you call or text? I would have gotten ready first,” you mumble, stepping aside so he can walk inside. He just shakes his head, saying something about being able to be with you for longer like this. You sigh, closing the door behind him. “Alright then, how fancy do you want me?” He smiles, glancing back at you. “I want you comfortable,” he proclaims and this time it’s you shaking your head. Alright, fancy it is. 

Jake settles down on your bed, his eyes following you as you scan the clothes in your closet. Then, finally, your eyes land on a brown dress, one you know hugs your body well. You glance at him with a teasing smile before grabbing the piece and disappearing into the bathroom to get dressed. 

When you walk out again, Jake’s jaw is practically on the floor and he has to hold himself back as he leans against the wall, watching you from the comfort of your bed. “God,” he breathes out and you chuckle, whispering a quiet thank you as you sit down at the table beside him so you could do your makeup. “You’re beautiful, gorgeous.” 

A smile spreads across your lips without you being able to control it, looking at him through your mirror. “You already convinced me to go on a date with you, no need to try so much anymore.” He only shakes his head at your words, “I’m not trying for anything. I mean it. You look amazing, love.” The nickname sends a shiver down your spine but you don’t let it show, applying your makeup and trying to ignore the blush creeping up your cheeks. 

“Alright, let’s go,” you say, turning to face him. He smiles when you do, averting his eyes from you for the first time since you sat down as he gets up, offering you his hand immediately. You roll your eyes at how cheesy he is but hold his hand nonetheless, letting him lead you out of your dorm. 

“Where are we going?” You wonder, following him to his car. You walk slightly ahead of him, trying to open the car door but it’s locked. He chuckles, shaking his head as he reaches you, unlocking the car with a simple click of a button and then opening the door for you. “You think I’d let you open that on your own?” You blink a few times, sliding into the passenger seat without another word. You weren’t sure how you were going to survive the night if he had your heart racing so much already. 

The drive is calm, quiet, with jvke playing on the radio, only setting the mood for what’s to come. You softly hum to the songs as you look out the window, smiling. You weren’t even doing anything yet and it already felt nice. Just being with him, spending time together, was enough. 

When the car stops again and you try to open the door to step out, Jake sends you a warning glare, making you chuckle. Your hand falls back to your side while he walks around the car, opening the door for you and offering you his hand to help you step out. You shake your head at him, squeezing his hand tighter as he locks his car. “You really don’t have to do all that.” 

“Opening the door for you is the least I can do,” he assures you, the puppy eyes he gives you making your heart skip a beat. “Let’s go, everything is prepared already,” he says, taking you towards one of the buildings beside you. 

Your mouth falls open in awe as you step on the empty rooftop, your eyes landing on the blanket set in the middle with two baskets full of—how you assumed—food. You glance at him immediately, your eyes wide as you search for anything that might prove this isn’t real. Because honestly, how could it be? How lucky did you have to be to meet this man? 

“How did you–” 

“I have connections,” he shrugs, smirking when he sees your face. The innocent smile, with those wide eyes of yours was something he could look at forever. “I wasn’t sure what you would like but I thought dinner couldn’t go wrong, right?” He asks, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. You don’t answer him immediately. Instead, you move your hand to his forearm, squeezing it tightly as you stand on your tiptoes, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. 

Jake has to blink a few times to process what’s happening and before he can do anything, grab your waist, kiss you on the lips, smile, respond, anything, you’re already walking away, sitting down on the blanket he prepared earlier. 

He chuckles, shaking his head in awe as he comes to sit down beside you. You smile as you watch him, genuinely happy. “This is amazing, Jake. You couldn’t have made the first date better.” He smiles as well, opening the basket and taking out a bottle of wine. “I assure you it will be even better with this wine.” You laugh, taking out two glasses out of the basket and moving them towards him so he could pour the wine. 

The night went on with Jake feeding you all sorts of fruits he brought after you ate a dinner he ordered, drinking wine under the moonlight and watching the stars appear in the sky as you talked about all sorts of things. You’ve found a comfort rhythm together, making it feel easy to talk to him. And honestly, it felt almost like you were an old couple already, on your tenth date as least. It was a comfortable feeling. 

“Do you have any plans for the upcoming break?” You ask, taking a bite of a strawberry. “I was planning to go home, be with my parents and hang out with the guys. Riki has been bothering me about wanting to go out play basketball lately,” he laughs quietly at the thought, his smile turning into a teasing grin when his eyes land on yours again. “Why? Want to do something together?” 

You hesitate, rethinking if it was an appropriate topic of conversation when it was only your first date but the look in his eyes reassured you that whatever you want to say, he isn’t going to run away. “I might have mentioned you to my mom earlier today,” you admit and his eyes immediately light up. “Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “Said that you’re an annoying little puppy that has been following me around for weeks,” you stick out your tongue, making him laugh. “Yeah, and what else?” He teases, leaning back on his elbows. Your eyes shift to something more serious but the smile on your lips never leaves. “That I like you, and hope this works out.” 

“I like you too,” he says without a second of hesitation and you can feel your cheeks heating up. He said it as if it was easy, no big deal. “She told me to bring you with me,” you add, searching for any sign of discomfort in his eyes. He doesn’t budge a bit though, his smile only growing wider as he nods. “I’d like that, for sure. Riki and his basketball can wait.” 

“Are you sure? You should probably be with your family. And if Riki has been asking you for so long–” 

Your name leaves his lips, interrupting you. Your cheeks flush pink and you gaze into his eyes again, swallowing a lump in your throat. God, why does your name sound so good coming from his mouth? “I’d let Riki wait for the rest of my life if it means being able to spend more time with you.” 

“He probably wouldn’t like hearing that,” you say, trying to mask the fact your heart is practically about to jump out of your chest. Because Jake? He had a way with words. But not only that. In the end, it came down to him as a whole. The way his eyes wandered over your body, the way he always knew what to say and do, the way he put so much effort into your first date—yeah, you did want to bring him to meet your mom. Who cared that this was only your first date? You knew it wasn’t the last. 

“That’s fine. I only care about what you like hearing.” You roll your eyes at him playfully, finishing the rest of the wine you had in your glass before standing up, walking to the rooftop edge. You lean forward, looking down at the street beneath you, watching the cars drive through and people walk to their homes. 

Jake admires you for a second before getting up as well, walking over to you. He hesitates for a second but then hooks his arm around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder with a smile. You freeze for a moment, slowly turning your head towards him. “Jake,” you whisper, your breath landing right on his lips. “Yeah?” Your breath hitches as you gaze into his eyes, his close presence sending shivers down your spine. Not in a bad way, though. A far from it, actually. 

Your eyes flicker from his eyes to his lips and that’s all Jake needs before quickly spinning you around so your body would face him. He doesn’t wait for anything anymore and crashes his lips with yours, his hands coming to hold your head. His thumb brushes over your cheek as he pulls you closer to himself, kissing you as if you were the air he breathes. As if you were the only person in the world. 

And you kiss him back with just as much passion, one of your hands resting on his chest while the other holds onto his shirt, keeping him as close as possible. His right hand slowly moves down to explore the curves of your body, fingers digging into the skin on your waist in an almost possessive way. You moan under his touch, never pulling away, not even as his hand slides lower, wandering over your thigh before holding onto it, making you raise your leg and wrap it around him. 

“Fuck, wait,” Jake is the first to pull away, breathles as his fingers dig into the flesh of your thigh, still holding your leg around his waist. “Wait,” he repeats, resting his forehead against yours. He closes his eyes, a soft groan leaving his lips. Your eyes widen, and even though he told you to wait, you kiss him again, the little sound he left out driving you crazy. 

Your body fits perfectly with his and you melt into him, the movements so natural you forget this is the first time your lips met him for a moment. Jake pulls away again, stopping you before things can turn in the wrong direction. Because fuck. He felt that kiss in every part of his body. 

“What’s wrong?” You frown, slowly standing on both of your feet again. “Nothing!” He panics immediately, his eyes shooting up to meet yours. “No, this was– This was perfect, like I can’t even–” You chuckle as he stutters, trying to find the right words. His cheeks have turned pink, making him cuter than you’d admit. “I just,” he clears his throat, trying to regain his composure. “I don’t want our first date to go like that.” 

You raise an eyebrow at that before it finally clicks and you realize what he’s referring to. Your eyes soften, your lips turning into a smile. You can see it all in his eyes, the way he holds himself back, the way he eats your whole body with his eyes and yet, still only thinks about how to make your date perfect. 

“Alright, but what if I want to kiss you again?” 

“Then I’ll try really hard not to get hard.” 

You chuckle, the smile staying on your lips as you watch him. “Come here,” you say and he closes the space between you again. You place a soft kiss on his cheek, your hands resting on his shoulders. “Thank you. For trying so hard and making this the best first date I’ve been on.” You pull back again, scanning his features for a second. He looks proud of himself but also genuinely happy, his cheeks still slightly pink. You walk past him, getting back to the blanket while he stands still, thinking about everything that just happened. 

You glance over your shoulder at him, smiling. “Let’s go?” He nods, catching up to you and casually throwing his jacket over your shoulders as you crouch down to clean up. “Come on, I got it,” he says, squatting beside you and filling the baskets again with the food you haven’t finished. 

“You’re going to be cold,” you mumble as you stand up again and let him pick it all up. He only throws you a glance and you squeeze the jacket around your shoulder tighter, ignoring the way your heart tries to get out of your chest. 

Jake leaves everything in his car and walks you up to your dorm, lingering in the doorway. “If you want to come inside, I wouldn’t mind,” you offer, opening your door. He smiles as he looks you up and down, taking the sight of you into his head once more. “I’ll come inside another time. If we win our next game. I can promise you that,” he answers, and you roll your eyes at him, masking the fact that maybe you wouldn’t mind that. 

“You’ll have to dream about that.” 

“Oh, trust me, I will.” 

You smile, “Good night, Jake.” 

Jake smiles as well, a soft genuine smile you could find yourself falling for. “Good night, love.” 

On Monday afternoon, you spend a little too long in the bathroom and your roommates notice, watching you from the doorway with curious expressions. You sigh, turning to them. “I’m overthinking it,” you breathe out and Manon nods immediately. “What’s going on?” 

“This is the first time I’m going to see Jake since our date. I don’t know, I’m nervous!” You explain, groaning. Daniella only laughs at you, shaking her head. “So? You’ll watch him be all hot on the ice, take a few funny videos and then you can make out with him against the plexiglass. What’s the big deal?” 

You roll your eyes at her, pushing past them and stepping out of the bathroom. “How am I supposed to just be there and act all normal around him? What if his teammates know?” You quickly shoot them a glance, making the two girls laugh. “Oh they definitely know,” Manon assures you. “You think he wouldn’t brag about absolutely winning you over with that date?” 

“And even if he didn’t tell them, one look at you and they’ll all see you’re absolutely head over heels for him,” Dani adds, plopping down onto her bed. 

“Just kill me,” you whine, jumping onto your bed as well. 

But honestly, Jake should be the one you worry about the least. Because it wasn’t him who was going to be surprised to see you on the ice. 

Shortly after, a loud knock on the door echoes through the dorm and Manon goes to open it, stepping aside immediately when her eyes land on the hockey captain. You hear his chuckle when he comes closer to you and when you open your eyes to look at him, his hand is reached out towards you, helping you get up. “Let’s go. I can’t be late,” his voice is soft, causing a blush to creep up your cheeks as you gently hold onto his hand. He laces your fingers together, offering your roommates a quick hello with a smile before walking off with you by his side. 

You’re laughing when you enter the ice rink. Jake quickly disappears into the changing rooms but doesn’t forget to kiss you before he does, making you freeze in your place for a second as you watch him. Suddenly, you don’t feel so scared about how things were going to look like. Because with Jake, it felt easy. 

Except it wasn’t. 

Because as you enter the playground, your eyes fall to a person you completely forgot would be here today—your dad. Oh god. Okay. You take a deep breath as you walk towards him, preparing what you were going to say. He doesn’t notice you approaching as he focuses on his conversation with the goalie, Intak if you remember correctly. You clear your throat nervously, getting their attention. “Sorry to interrupt,” you start, watching as your dad’s eyes widen when he realizes you’re there. “I just wanted to say that I’m here.” 

Intak smiles at you immediately, greeting you warmly before skating off to warm up, assuring you their conversation already ended. You finally look your dad in the eyes, catching the mixture of emotions in them. Is he mad, glad to see you, or even disappointed? You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to find the right words to say. Then, his lips curl into a smile and he pulls you into a hug, making all your worries vanish. 

“What are you doing here, darling?” He asks as he takes a step back again. “Well, I know you said– I know you don’t want me here, for whatever reasons but…the guys asked me to be their media girl and I thought– it was a way to get back again,” you start blurting out words, unsure if they even make sense, avoiding eye contact as you wonder what he’s going to do. Kick you out, remind you you’re not supposed to be here? Whatever it is, you don’t want to hear it. 

But then he says what you least expected. “Angel, it’s fine,” he chuckles. “I know I…told you not to come here anymore but I’m glad you’re here.” 

“You are?” Your eyes lit up with a spark of hope. “How could I not be? You’re my daughter, I’m not going to say no to hanging out with you. And also, your mom has been all over me lately, telling me I’ve gone too far and should let you come here when the ice is free,” he sighs. 

“Why didn’t you want me here in the first place?” You wonder hesitantly, watching his smile fall, catching a spark of regret in his expression. “It was stupid,” he admits. “I’ve realized that right after I’ve done it. I just thought that now you’re all grown up you…” 

Before he can finish, another voice interrupts him and you feel a familiar arm hook around your waist. “Coach! I see you’re already getting to know our new addition to the team, this is–” 

“Hands off my daughter, Sim. Immediately,” your dad commands, his eyes darkening as he watches his captain pull you close so naturally. 

Jake’s eyes widen and he obeys right away, blinking a few times as he places the pieces together. “Your daughter?” He asks, trying to remain calm. But honestly, he was far from that. “You didn’t know?” He frowns, scanning the boy with his dark eyes. “Uhm, no, sir,” Jake answers, quickly glancing at you for some sort of explanation. You just swallow a lump in your throat, trying to figure out what even is the right thing to say at the moment. 

“Dad, stop. He did nothing wrong.” 

“This is exactly why I didn’t want you on my ice.” 

You frown, a part of you mad at your dad again. Because what did that even mean? That his reason behind forbidding you to skate was even stupider than he made it seem seconds ago? “What, Jake? The guys? You can’t be serious, right?” 

“I am serious. These guys are exactly what I’ve tried to keep you away. I know them, know what they are like. These players scream trouble.” 

You scoff, “ironic coming from a NHL player, don’t you think?” Unbelievable. You turn to face Jake, ready to assure him, tell him to ignore your dad, but before you can even as much reach for his hand, he steps away, his gaze fixated on his coach. “I’m sorry. I’m gonna…start the practice,” he excuses himself quickly, disappearing without a single glance in your direction. 

If you were mad before? You’re furious now. “Great. Really great, dad. Thanks for ruining all the good things in my life. As if taking skating from me for months wasn’t already enough.” Before he can say anything, argue or apologize, you’re already on your way out of the complex, ignoring his calls after you. 

You manage to bump into Heeseung on your way out, mumbling a quiet sorry as you try to move past him. He frowns, stopping you. “You okay?” He asks but you just brush him off, sparing him just one simple glance before he moves aside, letting you leave. When you step out, you realize it was so easy because there are tears in your eyes. 

You wipe them off with the back of your hand, cursing yourself out. You’re not sure why you’re crying, if it’s all the frustration building up in you, your hormones making fun of you, or because Jake, the boy who made you feel so good in the past few weeks, has just acted like he barely knew you. 

You hated the feeling. 

Heeseung quickly blurts out an apology as he steps on the ice, frowning when he sees no one is paying him any attention. He skates towards the others, raising an eyebrow confusedly at the way the coach’s eyes stay glued to Jake, following his every movement. “Jake!” He calls after him, bringing him back to reality. “What?” Jake blinks a few times, subconsciously glancing at the coach nervously before focusing on his friend. 

“What did you do? Why did I just see your girlfriend run out of here crying?” He questions and Jake’s eyes widen immediately. He doesn’t even care to correct Heeseung that you’re not his girlfriend as he asks a different question, “she was crying?” 

“Yeah, man. I don’t know what happened but she looked…sad, broken I’d say even.” Jake’s hand clenches into a fist, partly mad at himself for disappearing like that before and partly just…worried. Whatever it is that got you feeling like this, he hates it. And he hates himself even more, knowing he might be the reason. 

Jake is out of focus for the rest of the training, too lost to even notice the coach yelling at him for being on a completely different side than he should be. It’s all in a blur, the whole training, the way he crashes with Taehyun as they do speed drills (Jake’s fault, no doubt), and even the way some of the guys ask him why you’re not here and if you’ve already decided you don’t want to be their media girl. 

His head is fully occupied with the thought of you, the way you tried to reach for his hand before but he just stepped back, the way you looked at him when the coach said something about Jake not being good enough (he didn’t but that was how Jake interpreted it), and the way you had kissed him just a few days ago. 

So, naturally, when practice came to an end, he tried to get off the ice as soon as possible, needing to see you, talk to you, apologize, and kiss you again. 

But he had to freeze mid movement as the coach’s voice rang in his ears, calling after him. Jake made a spin, a soft sigh escaping his lips when he saw the look on his face. “Get changed and come see me in my office, Sim.” 

“Yes, sir,” Jake mumbles back, no questions needed. It was way too obvious what he wanted to talk about. 

“What did you do?” Keeho asks curiously, glancing at the captain as he takes his gear off. “Don’t even ask,” Jake groans, sitting down in his place. “Did you guys know she is his daughter?” He shoots them all a look, the hidden desperation to find out he wasn’t the only one out of the picture passing by unnoticed. “Who?” Kai frowns confusedly. 

“Guess. Maybe the only girl Jake ever flirted with?” Taehyun chuckles, making Jake roll his eyes. “She isn’t the only girl I ever flirted with,” he argues but Taehyun doesn’t care enough to argue back. He just shakes his head, gently patting his shoulder as he moves to the showers. 

“She’s the coach’s daughter?” Jay speaks up, getting Jake’s attention immediately as he nods fiercely. “Apparently! He almost killed me when I put my hand around her waist earlier!” 

“And what did you do?” Intak eyed him from across the room. “Left,” he answers, so quietly the guys around him almost don’t hear him. Heeseung, however, catches it, his eyes widening. “You what?! Is that why she was crying?” 

“I don’t know!” Jake groans, hiding his face in his hands. “And now coach wants to speak with me as well. I don’t want to speak to him! What if he kills me?” 

“Should have thought about that before you made moves,” Intak snickers, disappearing into the showers as well. 

Slowly, everyone gets into the showers so they can be back at their dorms sooner but Jake takes his sweet time, delaying the meeting for as long as possible. However, when Huening peeks back into the dressing room a few minutes after he’s left to inform Jake about the fact the coach looks impatient, he collects his things and finally makes his way out of the dressing room. 

“You wanted to see me?” Jake says awkwardly as he steps into the office, placing his bag on the floor near the door but not sitting in the empty chair in front of him. All of a sudden, it didn’t feel the same as when he came into the office after practice to discuss game tactics. “You can sit down, Jake,” he says, more calm this time. 

The hockey player nods hesitantly, taking a few steps forward and then sliding into the chair. He stares down at the table, thinking about what he was supposed to say, how he would explain himself. “So,” the man clears his throat and Jake finally looks up. “You’ve been…seeing my daughter?” 

“Uhm,” Jake hesitates but when he sees the look on his face, he realizes lying isn’t going to get him anywhere. “Yes, I’ve– We met here a few weeks ago when I stayed late after practice to train some more.” 

He hums in response, eyeing him up and down. Jake swallows a lump in his throat. “And I’d like to keep getting to know her if that’s okay with you.” The coach stays quiet for a while, his brows furrowed into the same thoughtful look he always had while watching a team’s gameplay and figuring out what they could do to stop them. It makes Jake nervous. 

“And you’re the guy my wife told me about before? The one she had a date with this weekend?” 

“That would be me,” he nods. 

“What did you do?” 

“We had dinner together, sir.” 

“And then?” 

“I…took her back to her dorm. Walk her to the door and then we parted ways.” 

“You didn’t come in?” 

“No, sir,” Jake answers, frowning slightly. “I was respectful the whole time,” he adds, leaving out the fact he almost got a boner after kissing you. That definitely wasn’t something he’d want to discuss with your father. 

He hums again, not saying anything else. 

“I want you to keep your distance,” he proclaims suddenly, making Jake’s eyes widen. “What?” 

“You heard me, didn’t you? You have games to focus on, tactics to go through and teammates that rely on you. You need to have a clear head with no distractions if you want to take it somewhere.” 

Jake wants to argue, say that you’re not a distraction, that he can easily play as well as he did until now and still be a good boyfriend to you, but when he sees the firm look on his coach’s face, one telling him that it’s already decided and he can’t do anything about it, he only squeezes his hand into a fist, gripping tightly onto his pants as if that could possibly ground him. 

“You can go now,” he says but it’s more like a command, telling him to get out of his sight. “I’ll see you on Wednesday, rest well.” 

“Right,” Jake mumbles, the sound coming out more grumpy than he’d intended for it to. He doesn’t care to apologize though, pushing the chair back and getting out of the office as soon as he can, almost forgetting to grab his bag on his way out.

Jake [19:52]: I’m sorry Jake [19:52]: for brushing you off like that before

You stare at his messages for a few seconds, squeezing the phone tight in your hands as if that could make them go away. Well, maybe if you squeeze hard enough they will. You sigh, turning it off. You’re not even sure what or who you’re mad at but the feeling sits on your shoulders, reading the messages with you and it makes you feel even worse. 

Manon looks at you from across the room, glancing at Daniella before they both walk over to you, sitting on your side each and pulling you into a hug. You chuckle softly but in reality, it comes out broken. “Men are idiots.” 

“Absolutely,” Manon agrees, her grip tightening just a little. You smile, allowing yourself to melt in their warm embrace. “Yeah but one of them is my dad and the other a boy I really want to keep in my life.” 

“And that’s fine, just–” before Dani can finish her sentence, probably say something about how there will be more men interested in you and that Jake doesn’t have to be the one you settle for, your phone lights up again with another message from him. 

Jake [19:55]: Your dad held me after practice, wanted to talk to me

You blink, ignoring Daniella’s frown and unlocking your phone immediately. 

you [19:55]: About?  Jake [19:55]: Us Jake [19:55]: He asked me about our date Jake [19:55]: What we did and then basically if we slept together you [19:56]: what did you tell him? Jake [19:56]: The truth Jake [19:56]: That I took you back home and left immediately after you [19:57]: hm  Jake [19:57]: I’m sorry, Bambi Jake [19:57]: I planned on running to you right after practice  you [19:59]: But you didn’t Jake [19:59]: your dad told me to stop seeing you 

Your heart drops when you read the last text, part of you mad at your father, the other just disappointed. Because if your dad telling him to stop was enough for him to actually do so, then maybe you were wrong about him all along. 

Jake [20:00]: he practically told me that if I want to play I have to 

“My dad is officially not an actual person,” you groan dramatically, showing the text messages to your two friends. Dani reads through them with a frown, judging every word silently. 

you [20:01]: Are you going to listen to him? Jake [20:01]: I don’t know 

You want to tell him that if he’s even thinking about it then you should put an end to whatever it is that’s between you two, you should tell him that but as you watch the three dots appear and disappear all over again, you decide you can’t. 

So instead, you change the topic of your discussion, acting as if nothing happened. You can sense that Jake is somewhat relieved when you do but it lingers in the air for the rest of the conversation. How could it not? 

You know Dani judges you when she sits at her bed again and focuses back on her work but you try to ignore it, focusing on Manon’s support as she encourages you to text him, and then eventually, when the clock hits eleven, forcing you to talk about the elephant in the room as well. 

You sigh but listen anyway, your fingers hesitantly moving across your phone keyboard. And so, you talk about it. About what your father said, how you feel about it, and how Jake wants to do the complete opposite of what his coach told him to. It makes you smile. 

you [23:26]: How about this you [23:26]: We can pretend to listen to him Jake [23:26]: I’m listening Jake [23:26]: Enlighten me princess you [23:27]: Shut up you [23:27]: Around him, I can pretend I’m mad at you you [23:27]: And we won’t talk you [23:27]: You’ll simply act like he asked you to you [23:28]: while in private… Jake [23:28]: We continue seeing each other you [23:28]: exactly Jake [23:28]: I can definitely work with that Jake [23:29]: it’s not like I want him around on our dates anyway Jake [23:29]: Even less if I’m coming in you like I promised 

You roll your eyes at him, ignoring the smile that spreads across your lips as you read his messages. Who cares what your father thinks. If Jake is supposed to scream trouble, you’ll gladly listen to it all. 

The following days pass by exactly how you planned. You stay as the team’s media girl, talking to your dad as if nothing ever happened and acting as if Jake didn’t exist. And then, in private, you make use of all the time you can get together. 

“Missed you,” Jake mumbles as his lips crash with yours, guiding you towards his bed. You smile into the kiss, your hand finding a few hair strands and tugging at them slightly. He groans, sending a shiver down your spine. “You were with me the whole evening,” you remind him, holding onto his collar as you sit down on his bed, bringing him down with you. “That’s different,” he argues, stealing another kiss from you. 

His hand grips onto your waist, keeping you as close as possible, his lips never leaving yours. “Well, if you want to be with me more, feel free to tell my dad,” you smirk, pushing him off slightly. He frowns, “don’t talk about my coach while being in my bed.” You giggle, a soft sound that makes Jake’s heart skip a beat. 

“Then talk about what you want to talk about,” you tease, moving back until your back hits the wall. He immediately moves to sit in front of you, his hands gently parting your legs so he can move between them, coming closer as he kisses you again with so much need it causes a moan to escape your lips. 

“Be my girlfriend,” he says between kisses, squeezing your tights firmly. Your eyes widen immediately but the surprise vanishes when you see his sincere eyes, waiting for your answer, his thumb gently stroking your skin. “That’s how you ask a girl you like?” You tease him, trying to ignore the butterflies forming in your stomach. 

“Please,” your name on his lips makes you weak every time but now that he has that look in his eyes—the one that makes you want to kiss him until neither of you is able to breathe—it makes it even harder for you not to jump him immediately. “Let me take care of you, cherish you, and make you smile every day as your boyfriend. Because as much as I love this, I want to be yours completely.” 

By the time he finishes his sentence, you’re already pulling him in for another kiss, your cheeks completely red and your heart beating faster than before. Because, god, Jake Sim was going to be the end of you. “Yeah, I’d like that,” you say and he immediately cups your face, pulling you even closer than before, his body fully on yours now. 

His hand moves down again, his fingers gently wandering under your shirt when the door swings open and you quickly push him off, turning your head to see who came in. “God, get your own room for this,” Jay groans, closing the door behind himself. Jake sighs, running a hand through his hair before glancing at you, giving you one of his boyish grins. Your breath hitches for just a second before you clear your throat, recollecting yourself. 

“I thought you would be out,” Jake shrugs, moving to sit beside you, casually hooking his arm around your shoulders. You smile at him and shake your head slightly. “It’s fine, I should go anyway. I still have stuff to learn.” He turns his head to you to argue but when he sees your soft, reassuring smile, he just nods. “Text me later?” 

“Of course,” you nod, leaning closer to place one last kiss on his lips before standing up. “Don’t kill Jay while I’m gone.” 

“I’ll try,” Jake promises with a laugh, watching you leave the dorm with a smile. 

“Sorry, man. I didn’t know you two would be here. Put a sock on the knob next time or something,” Jay sighs, throwing his bag onto his bed. Jake just shakes his head, brushing him off by saying it’s fine. “Sunghoon has practice later and I have a date so if you want, the room will be free then.” 

“You’ve heard the lady, she has work to do,” Jake chuckles. “But thanks, I’ll figure something out.” 

Jake must have been the luckiest person to ever live because what were the chances of having an empty dorm and a girlfriend who loves to make him go crazy? 

Jake [21:05]: Still studying? 

He waits for an answer for a few minutes, trying to focus on his own work but honestly, it’s impossible. He reaches for his phone to check his messages when it suddenly lights up, announcing that you answered. He doesn’t hesitate at all as he opens your conversation, his eyes widening when he sees the picture you’ve sent him. 

It’s simple; you lying in your bed, your hair a mess on your pillow with your lips slightly parted, your eyes piercing at him through the screen. He groans as he watches you, his eyes falling to your bare shoulders. You’re in a white tank top, the straps falling off your shoulders enough for him to picture how you’d look with nothing to cover your body. 

Before he can do anything about it, he remembers how you laid in his bed just mere hours ago, thinking about how it’d feel to have you here again. You, bend over this very desk he’s been sitting at for the past hours, when he finally gets to touch you in a way he dreamed of from the very first moment he laid his eyes on you. He can hear you moaning his name and groans, sliding his hand between his legs. 

 He palms himself at the thought of you, your pretty eyes looking at him as he slides his tongue between your folds, knowing you taste incredible. He closes his eyes shut, his brows furrowing as he thinks about you in his bed, screaming for him to slow down to loudly all the kids on this floor would know just how good he makes you feel. 

He thinks about you in every part of his dorm, the shower, where he helps you wash up just for his cock to find your hole again, at the entrance where you’re so impatient you can’t even wait to get to his bed before you wrap yourself around him, even on the floor, sucking him off under the table while he tries to focus on the new hockey tactics you helped him come up with before. 

He chases his high as he thinks about what kind of face you make when you come, his hand moving faster, with more force. Soft moans leave his lips as he reaches the edge, his cock twitching in his hand and your name falling off his tongue before he releases, imagining it’s your mouth wrapped around him, your lips that swallow his sperm. 

“Fuck,” he curses, his head falling back as he catches his breath, pushing all the dirty thoughts that still hang in his head aside as he looks at your photo again, typing his answer. 

Jake [21:17]: That’s my pretty girl you [21:17]: Took you a while to answer for someone whose I’m supposed to be Jake [21:17: had a problem I needed to take care of, sorry baby

Your cheeks flush red immediately when you read his message, your mind going blank. Daniella notices the shift in your behaviour but before she can say anything, you run away to the bathroom, locking the door behind you as you slide to the floor against the door, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. 

you [21:18]: Show? 

You bite the inside of your cheek as you wait for his response, the room getting hotter when you see a picture he sent you. You swallow hard, feeling your pussy clench around nothing but thin air as you stare at the picture of his hard cock in his hand, catching a glimpse of his cum. God. 

He’s big, bigger than you expected. You slide your pants down with ease, your fingers finding your clit immediately. You bite onto your bottom lip so you wouldn’t let out any sounds, keeping your eyes on his picture. 

Jake [21:20]: Feels good?

He sends the questions as he palms himself again, watching the three dots appear and disappear again. He smirks, knowing damn well what he’s doing to you. 

you [21:20]: yeah

You send him a quick picture of you sitting on the floor, two fingers deep in your hole while your thumb presses against your clit. Your face is out of the picture but you know he won’t mind that, not when he now has a better material to jerk off to. 

You keep your eyes on your phone, reading through his new messages as he praises you while also trying to guide you through it. It works. Too damn much, if you’re honest. You close your eyes as you feel your orgasm building up, the thought of his long fingers (that you fantasized so much about before) replacing yours sending you over the edge. 

You sigh, your breathing heavy as you text him again, trying to calm down. If you don’t find a time when no one will be at the dorm quickly, you’re sure to go crazy soon. 

The following Saturday you find yourself standing in the coaching box alongside your dad, watching your boyfriend and his team skate around the rink. It’s the second period already and Tigers are winning by three points but you can’t help but feel nervous every time they lose the puck. Maybe because it’s the first game you’re watching as a girlfriend of one of the players, or maybe because you know there are scouts watching the game and this could be a great opportunity for Jake (or any of his teammates). 

You yell excitedly, cheering them on as you see the number four pass by two defenders all alone, the nervousness building up in you as you watch Jake make it to the goal. “Come on, come on,” you mumble as he shoots, praying for the puck to make it in. “Yes!” The whole team yells at the same time as Jake scores another point for them. 

The buzzer announcing the period end rings in your ear and you watch Jake skate towards the bench as quickly as he can, wishing to do nothing more than to pull you into the warmest hug he can. However, before he can do anything stupid, his coach pulls him into a hug instead, patting Jake’s back while praising him about the goal he just made. 

Still, his eyes stay glued to you, his coach’s words passing unnoticed by him. You smile at him, jokingly rolling your eyes when you see your dad. Jake chuckles, taking a step back and finally looking at the coach. 

“Thanks, coach,” he laughs before his teammates pull him into another hug. Your dad walks back to you, smiling proudly. “He’s going to take it far. If he’s lucky the scouts are all already writing his name down.” You smile as well, glancing at Jake for a brief second before you mask your excitement again. “Yeah, he isn’t all bad,” you mumble, making sure not to pay him more attention than absolutely necessary. Because if Jake’s truly lucky, your dad won’t notice the way his eyes linger on you throughout the whole fifteen minute break. 

The third period passes in a blur, ending with the Tigers’ win eventually. You watch as Jake and Heeseung find each other when the game ends, laughing as they pull each other into a hug. Huening and Jay skate to them immediately after, the rest of the guys following as soon as they can, jumping from the bench and skating to them to celebrate. You smile, a proud genuine smile your dad hasn’t seen on your face in what feels like ages. At that moment, it was completely clear to him that forbidding you from stepping on the ice was a bad idea all along. Because this was where you belonged, in the stands, watching his team take home another win just like you always had. 

“God, you were so pretty standing there and cheering me on,” Jake mumbles against your lips as he kisses you again, his hands wandering under your shirt. Your back hits the wall as he cups your breast in his hand, moving to kiss your jaw. “Are you sure no one’s here?” You ask, tilting your head slightly to give him more space as he moves lower, placing wet kisses on your neck. 

“The guys are all long gone. I told them not to wait for me,” he says and you gasp as you feel his teeth on your skin. The game ended almost an hour ago, no one should be at the rink anymore. Yet, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that you could get caught any minute. Even though the changing rooms were more private than the game area, it still felt too exposed. You just want to take him back home with you but you know that isn’t possible, not when both of your roommates are there. 

With the way he sucks onto your neck he’ll definitely leave hickeys but you’re not in the right mind to care enough, so, instead of telling him to be careful not to leave any visible marks, your hand finds his hair and you keep him in place, a soft moan escaping your lips at the feeling. He smirks, rolling up your shirt to get a better view. “Remember my promise?” 

“That you’d come inside of me if you win the game? Very clearly,” you assure him, your breath hitching when his cold fingers wander over your bare skin. He smirks as he watches you, his hand moving to your back, holding onto your bra clips. “Can I take this off?” You nod, your eyes following his every movement. He’s hot with his hair still wet from his previous shower, standing in front of you in that annoyingly handsome tank top of his. 

He unclips your bra, letting it fall to the floor. He groans at the sight, feeling his cock twitch in his pants. But just as he leans down, cupping one of your breasts with his hand and kissing the other one, the door swings open and he is quick to fix your shirt so that whoever just walked in won’t see what’s meant for his eyes only. Probably a cleaning lady, he forgot about the possibility of one of them coming in. Still though, how unlucky did he have to be to be interrupted both times he was about to be intimate with you? 

He opens his eyes, ready to apologize to the lady for still being here but he stops when his eyes land on a male figure instead, the words catching in his throat. 

“What the hell is going on here?” Your father’s voice rings in your ears and you quickly stumble forward to collect your bra from the floor, hiding behind your boyfriend to put it back on. Jake clears his throat in the meantime, opening his mouth and closing it again because truly, he had no idea what the appropriate answer to that question was. 

“Sim?” His voice is stronger now, sending shivers down Jake’s spine. “We uhm– this isn’t–” he tries to figure something out but when he comes to the conclusion there’s no possible way out of this, he closes his mouth again. 

He calls out your name next and you squeeze your eyes shut as you take a step forward again, standing by Jake’s side. “We are going home. Now. And you, Sim,” he turns to him again, staring a hole in the middle of his eyes. “We will talk about this later. I thought you had a good shot at making it somewhere but you– don’t expect to play on my team again.” 

“What?!” You and Jake shout at the same time. You immediately look at him, your eyes full of regret while his just show…fear, vulnerability. You hate seeing that. “You can’t be serious!” you yell, looking at your father again. “You can’t– He is your best player! You’ve seen him play today! You hugged him and called him son!” you remind him but your dad just scoffs. “I’m not talking to you about this. Take your things and get to the car. End of discussion.” 

“No, you–” you try to argue again but Jake stops you, holding your hand in his and making you look at him. “It’s fine, darling,” he assures you, giving you one of his smiles, except this time it not only feels but also looks forced. You open your mouth again but he leans down and presses his lips on yours, squeezing your hand tightly so you’d know he is there. “I don’t regret you in the tiniest bit,” he says gently, slowly letting you go. The pain in his eyes makes it feel like your heart is being ripped out of your chest and there is nothing you can do about it. You hate the feeling. 

“Go,” he nods, mouthing the words “text you” as he places his hand on your lower back and guides you forward until you finally move on your own, stopping only once you reach your dad. “Fuck you,” you look him straight in the eyes with not a single care in the world before walking past him to get outside. 

Jake exhales deeply, running a hand through his hair. “I love her,” he proclaims confidently, catching his coach off guard. Your dad stands at the door, still trying to make sense of what just happened and if you really cussed him out. He focuses on Jake again, his glare never falling. “And honestly, I don’t care if you won’t let me play because of it. But we both know Heeseung won’t perform that well without his duo and it’ll only be a matter of time before the team falls.” 

“Are you threatening me?” He raises an eyebrow in disbelief. 

“No. That’s your hobby lately, don’t you think?” Jake doesn’t say anything else, taking all his things along with your jacket that you left just lying on one of the benches and making his way past the coach. He stops again in the doorway, hesitating for a second. “I won’t stop seeing her.” 

“Right,” the coach mumbles but all the confidence he had while yelling at the two before is gone, replaced with uncertainty and fear. “Good luck with the rest of the season,” Jake adds, the genuinity in his voice only pissing off the coach more. 

The door closes again and just like that, he’s standing there alone. He needs to blink a few times to gain control again because everything about this conversation was only proving him of the fact he had no control anymore. His little girl was growing up faster than he could comprehend, and his team was slipping through his fingers just as fast. He knew what Jake was like and that he had a great potential to continue with hockey and honestly, he wasn’t sure if he was protecting his daughter’s future on Jake’s. 

“Darling,” he breathes out as he slides into the driver’s seat. You don’t turn to look at your dad though, focusing solely on the game on your phone. He sighs, running a hand through his hair before fastening his seatbelt. “I’m just looking out for you. You have the whole life ahead of you, so many opportunities and goals to still achieve.” 

You scoff, ending the game and switching to instagram to scroll through new posts, not paying him the slightest bit of attention. Your childhood nickname falls from his lips and you squeeze your phone tighter, holding onto the last bit of strength you had. He sighs again, starting the car and driving off the parking lot. 

You sit in silence, still on your phone and texting Jake to even notice the road you’re taking, ignoring the way you catch your dad’s eyes in the rearview mirror every now and then. 

you [14:26]: The worst card ride ever Jake [14:26]: it’ll be fine love  Jake [14:26]: you just need to make it back to the dorm and then we can go out Jake [14:26]: I’ll take you out on dinner, hm? Jake [14:26]: what do you say? you [14:27]: I say that I’d absolutely love that Jake [14:27]: okay good <3  Jake [14:27]: I need to give you back your jacket anyway

It’s only then that you notice the missing piece of clothes, smiling as you read his messages. No matter how mad you were seconds ago, he managed to calm you down in the single minute you talked with him. And that was something you weren’t giving up on, no matter how much your dad wanted you to. 

you [14:28]: Shouldn’t it be me stealing your clothes sir? Jake [14:28]: Just say a word and all my hoodies are yours Jake [14:28]: I’d actually kill to see you in my clothes Jake [14:28]: Please

You giggle, stretching your legs slightly. Your dad looks at you immediately, the grip he has on the steering wheel tightening as he notices Jake’s name on your screen, a mix of emotions rushing through him. He wants to be happy for you, cheer you on in your relationship if he had you smiling like this, but he just can’t push aside the thoughts of what the future holds. You being with Jake could make him give up his career for you or it could make you give up on your dreams in order to support him just like your mom did, and he would hate for that to happen. 

you [14:29]: That could be arranged  you [14:29]: If we happen to go back to your dorm after dinner and casually decide to sleep over I’ll need to wear something Jake [14:29]: I’m telling the guys to find a different place to sleep at tonight Jake [14:29]: Can’t let them see that

The smile on your lips never leaves, not even when you finally look up from your phone and see the unfamiliar road, frowning. “Where are you taking me?” 

“Home,” he answers simply and it takes you a second he isn’t talking about your dorm. “What? I have plans, I don’t have time to drive home and back.” 

“You should have thought about that before I saw you half naked with my player,” he says through gritted teeth, more judging than he intended. He’s not sure why he says it in the first place. He really wants to reconcile with you, forget about the whole thing and act like nothing happened but for some reason, every time he opens his mouth, the wrong words come out. 

“I’m an adult!” you remind him, looking at the time on your phone. “You can’t be fucking serious.” 

“Language!” You huff, taking a deep breath as you finally turn your head to face him fully. “The fact you’re mad at me doesn’t mean you’ll be speaking to me like that.” 

You don’t say anything back, writing Jake a quick text explaining the situation before turning your phone off and placing it down in your lap, crossing your arms as you watch the road ahead. If he wanted to kidnap you then so be it. It’s not like you would sit around saying nothing forever. 

“Honey, how come you’re so late?” Your mother’s voice makes you look up as you step out of the car, her eyes lighting up immediately the moment she sees you. You smile, greeting her warmly and walking over to her. “What are you doing here? I need to cook something for dinner! You’re staying, right?” She asks, hopeful and excited. You chuckle, nodding. “I didn’t plan on visiting this weekend but dad kidnapped me so I had no choice,” you shoot him a look but he ignores it, taking his things from the car and coming to greet his wife with a kiss. 

“Kidnapped her?” She asks confusedly but he just brushes it off, saying that you’re talking nonsense. You scoff, moving past both of your parents inside the house. It’s been around a month since you last came by, with school and Jake keeping you busy, there wasn’t a chance for it before. And even though you didn’t want to be here, you would be lying if you said you don’t like being home. 

You pull out your phone again, glancing back to make sure your parents are still outside before you start a video call. You don’t even have a chance to fix your hair or make sure you look good when the call goes through, Jake’s face lighting up your screen immediately. You smile, a soft “hi” leaving your lips. “You ran away or something?” He asks after a greeting. 

Rolling your eyes, you glance behind yourself again before walking towards your room. “No, I successfully made it home. Want to see my room?” You ask but before he can even answer you enter the room, giving him a quick tour when he says he needs to see every corner, mentioning something about how a childhood bedroom creates a character and he needs to see everything. He’s a bit weird but honestly, you couldn’t find him more attractive. 

You sit down on your bed, resting your head against the headboard, watching him talk about how the guys jumped at him the moment he stepped into his room, congratulating him on his play. The excitement in his eyes as he talks about hockey makes your heart melt, until you remember your dad’s words. Don’t expect to play on my team again. 

Hockey was his whole life, the thing he was the most excited about, something he spent every free minute thinking about, you couldn’t be the reason why it was taken from him. You’d rather never step on the ice again yourself if it meant he could still play. 

“Heeseung said that he spoke to one of the scouts after the game, apparently they are thinking about me!” He grins and you can’t help but smile. “That’s amazing, Jake. I knew you could do it from the moment I first saw you.” He gives you a look but the smile never leaves his lips. “You told me I’m terrible and need to fix everything.” 

You shrug, laughing. “Yeah, that was me telling you I think you’re amazing.” 

“So you were in love with me back then,” he teases, making you roll your eyes again. You open your mouth to answer but a soft knock on the door interrupts you. You give Jake a quick look so he stays quiet and watch the door open, your mom walking in with her usual gentle smile. 

“Is that the boyfriend of yours?” She asks, immediately noticing the cause of your smile. You nod, biting the inside of your cheek. She walks over to you, sitting down on the edge of your bed. “Can I?” You don’t hesitate before moving closer to her, holding the phone so Jake could see both of you. He immediately greets her, the boyish grin on his face making you roll your eyes. “Jake, was it?” she questions and he introduces himself fully, saying that he’d offer her a hand as well had it been a different situation. It’s lame but she laughs nonetheless. “Well, we can shake hands when you come to visit next week. My daughter told you about it, right?” 

“She did,” he nods. “And I’d love to come, if I’m welcome to, I mean.” 

“Dear, of course! I wouldn’t have invited you if you weren’t.” 

“Dad isn’t a big fan,” you mumble, causing Jake to chuckle and your mom turn to you. “He met him before I could?” There’s a hint of betrayal in her voice but you already know that once she knows the full story it will be replaced with something else—disappointment. Not towards you, but your father. 

“Jake is on his team, the captain.” 

“Was,” Jake corrects and you roll your eyes again. “I was on the team, but Coach kicked me out today.” 

Your mother’s brows furrow, already sensing something iffy about it. “Why would he do that?” 

“Ask him, I’d love to know the reason as well,” you say, getting more and more annoyed as you speak. You sigh, running a hand through your hair to calm yourself. “Let’s not talk about it now, though. And for your information,” you turn towards Jake again, a shy smile spread across your face. “I’d love to have you here.” 

“Then I’ll definitely come,” he assures both of you, watching as your mom’s smile grows wider. She sits there with you for a bit longer, asking Jake about all sorts of things and watching you interact together, somehow feeling proud. She always wished you the best in life, and from what she saw in the short moments, Jake was exactly that. 

She goes to leave the room but stops again as her hand grabs the doorknob, glancing back at you one last time. “I’m not sure what you and your dad did to each other but I don’t want to stir the pot even more so, honey, try to cover that hickey of yours so he doesn’t have a reason to freak out,” she winks at you before disappearing from the room. 

Your cheeks grow red from embarrassment as you lean closer to your phone, looking at the hickey Jake has left on your neck in your front camera. He laughs on the other side of the phone, saying that it looks great but you only send him a pointed look. You groan, “I’m going to strangle you, Jake Sim.” It’s a threat, but he smiles. “With your thighs I hope.” 

You close your eyes, exhaling tiredly but Jake notices your lips twitch as you try to hold back your smile. He knows he’s got you exactly where he wants. 

You spend another thirty minutes on the call with him before finally stumbling out of your room as the smell of chicken hits your nose. Your dad tells you to sit that as he plates everything so you do, playing with your sleeve awkwardly. 

The food is set on the table soon after and your parents both sit opposite you, your mom asking you about exams and friends casually while your dad eats in silence, humming sometimes as a form of response. 

You stare at your plate for a few seconds before deciding to look up, catching your dad’s eyes at the same time. He sighs, visibly exhausted. You’re not sure if it’s because of the continuous arguing with you or just today’s game, though. “You didn’t mean it, did you? That you’re not going to let him play anymore.” 

Something flickers in his eyes, a moment of hesitance, regret maybe, you don’t know. He doesn’t answer, just putting another piece of meat into his mouth. You don’t just let it go like he seems to want, though. “He is your best player and you know it. You can’t kick him out just because he is dating your daughter instead of being fucking happy for me.” 

That seems to work because he winces, finally looking at you, really looking at you. “Darling,” your mom coos softly, tilting her head slightly, almost as if to tell you to calm down. You shake your head, refusing to drop the conversation. “I’ll…I won’t go on the ice ever again like you wanted, I won’t be near when you have practices and I’ll stop coming to games just please.” The plea sends a shiver down his spine, making him drop his fork on the table. 

“I don’t want you to give up on skating for him.” 

“So you’d rather make him give up on his whole future for me? Because we both know he doesn’t plan on leaving. If he did, he wouldn’t have talked to me again after you told him to stop seeing me the first time. And honestly, I don’t want to leave either.” 

“You did what?” Your mother turns her attention to your dad immediately, slapping him across his shoulder. “That poor boy does nothing but make our daughter happy and you told him to stop seeing her?” You knew that if someone was going to have your back it’d be your mom but you didn’t expect her to be so into it. She didn’t know Jake. There was no reason for her to get all worked up and start a whole argument with him. 

But, you weren’t going to stop her. 

You watch your parents argue for a while, your mom telling your dad he’s unreasonable and should finally realize you’re an adult while he tells her something about thinking about the future of the both of you, which only makes things worse. They start arguing about how their situation used to be similar and he doesn’t want you to go through the same thing your mom did but you disappear then, figuring that’s not a conversation you should be a part of. 

Later that night, a knock on the door makes you look up from your phone. You expect it to be your mom, after all, it’s always been her who talked to you after they had arguments when you were little, wanting you to know it was all okay and you didn’t need to worry about anything, but when the door opens, it’s your dad you see standing there. You sit up, nodding for him to come in. He sighs, closing the door behind himself as he pulls out a chair from your table, placing it right in front of your bed and taking a seat. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, running a hand through his hair. You frown, not saying anything as you watch him, waiting for him to say more, explain himself. “I know it’s stupid and unreasonable,” he repeats your mother’s words, his brows furrowing in a way that tells you he doesn’t completely agree with it. “You know I love you, right?” He finally looks up to meet your eyes and you nod, a part of you feeling bad when you see the look on his face. The regret you thought you saw before is now way more visible, accompanied with a sign of simple care. “And I love the boys on my team, all of them. I think…Jake is a great kid, darling.” 

His words catch you off guard but you still stay quiet, knowing that’s not all he wants to say. “When me and your mom met we were around the same age as you, did you know that?” He doesn’t give you enough time to answer before he continues. “She wanted to be a doctor, she had her whole life figured out while the only thing I knew was that all I wanted to do was skate and be with her.” You smile, the thought of your parents at your age warming your heart. You can see yourself and Jake in their place. You can see Jake loving you all the years later just like your father loves your mom. 

“Then I got an offer, a contract with a team I really wanted to join. It was on the other side of the country and your mom…she dropped everything without thinking about it so she could go with me. I know she doesn’t regret it now, and neither do I, but knowing she gave up her future plan for me ate me alive for years.” 

“I never wanted to see you go through the same, so I did what I thought was the best at the time; told you not to skate so you couldn’t meet any hockey players that could mess with your future. I know it’s stupid, that it’s up to you what you do with your life I just…I simply didn’t want hockey to be the reason for another girl I love to lose something she’s passionate about.” 

You stand up from your bed, regretting all the bad words you said about your dad in the past few days. He watches you walk over to him, waiting for you to say something, anything, but you just pull him into a hug. “I love you too, dad,” you mumble. “And I’m sorry for cussing you out before.” He chuckles softly as he pulls back, shaking his head. “I deserved it.” 

“I’m not going to force Jake to leave my team, by the way. I’d be incredibly stupid to let that sort of talent escape.” You grin proudly, thanking him. “And…if it’s something you both want then,” he clears his throat, visibly stalling as he thinks it over. “Then I’d like to see him come with you next time,” he nods slightly, almost as if he was approving of his own words. “But just, please, promise me you won’t make your whole life about hockey, his games and plans. Promise me that if you stay together, you’ll figure something out while you both do what you love, even if it means being away from each other for a while.” 

You nod, it’s the least you can do. “We will,” you agree. 

Not having to hide a whole hockey player from your dad feels great. You still have to stay professional while filming the guys and limit Jake’s neediness while being around your dad but that’s understandable. And Jake knows that as well, still, he loves pushing the limits. 

“So, you’re going to be at our game tomorrow, right?” Jake asks, his hands resting on each side of you on the bench, trapping you in. He hovers over you, and even though you want nothing more than to pull him into a make out session when he gives you that boyish grin of his again, the presence of your father next to you reminds you to think straight. 

“Yeah,” you nod slightly, unable to take your eyes off him. He smirks, quickly glancing at his coach before leaning closer to you, stopping just below your ear. “And then you’ll let me go for as many rounds as I score.” He says it like it’s a deal you agreed to before but when he backs up again, there’s a question in his eyes, mixing with a sign of hope and mischief. “You better score a lot then,” you smirk, pressing your hand on his chest and pushing him off gently. “Go practice.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he does a little prince bow, winking at you once more before putting on his helmet and skating away, joining the others. 

“Is Jake going to drive you afterwards or should I wait and take both of you?” Your dad asks, keeping his eyes on the boys while sitting down beside you now that Jake’s gone. “Jake will drive. I agreed to go grab some food with the team after the game so we’ll drive on our own.” He nods, glancing at you again. “And he’ll be staying the whole week?” 

“The whole week,” you agree, causing a sigh to leave your dad’s lips. “In your room?” You roll your eyes, “yes, in my room. And in my bed, you’re not expecting me to make him sleep on the floor or something, are you?” 

“No,” he answers through gritted teeth, making sure you know he isn’t exactly happy with the arrangements. “Just don’t…no, nevermind, I’m not talking about this,” he shakes his head aggressively. “I’ll talk to Jake instead.” Your eyes widen, realization hitting you. “Don’t talk about sex with my boyfriend!” you smack his arm. 

“I need to talk to him as a worried coach to make sure my player doesn’t get a girl pregnant in his prime year,” he shoots you a pointed look and you sigh. The following week was going to test your strength and love for your father a lot. 

8:00 am lights up your phone before you knock on Jake’s door, watching as it swings open immediately. Jake doesn’t hesitate before grabbing your hand and pulling you against him, your bodies colliding together. “What’s going on?” you ask, blinking a few times. “Why was I supposed to come?” 

“The guys are out, they went for breakfast as Jay’s pregame ritual,” he explains, still holding your hand as he takes you towards his bed. “I’d like to start a pregame tradition with you as well,” he explains, his eyes glinting with need. “Oh?” Your lips curl into a smirk as you sit on the bed. “And what might that be?” 

Jake kneels down in front of you on the floor, gently pushing your legs open, keeping his hands on your inner thighs as he looks up at you. And god damn is he the hottest person you’ve ever seen. “Can I eat you out?” You blink, feeling hotter just at the thought of that. You bite your bottom lip, slowly nodding. His smile grows wider, his eyes lighting up as if he was a little kid whose parents allowed him to eat ice cream before dinner. 

He stays on the floor, sliding off your jeans, groaning quietly as his eyes land on your panties. “God, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he sounds desperate and your body responds immediately. He runs his fingers over your clothed cunt and the whine that leaves his lips makes a shiver run down your spine. If this was his reaction to barely seeing you, how loud on earth was he going to be during the whole deal? 

It takes no time for him to slide your panties down to your ankles, moving his head closer to you immediately, keeping his eyes on yours as he licks a long strap from your hole to your clit. “Fuck,” you moan quietly, grinding your hips against his face. He smirks, his grip on your thighs tightening as he holds you in place, firm enough so you can’t move on your own. “Relax, baby. I’m going to take my sweet time with your little pussy.” 

And he does. He absolutely fucking does, to the point it drives you crazy. Your legs shake and you squirm under him as he lazily sucks on your clit. It’s torture but god, he’s also the greatest pussy eater you’ve met, definitely the most eager one from everyone you’ve been with. His whines and groans fill your ear and the only thing you can focus on is how he sounds against your wet cunt. “I’m gonna–” your breath hitches and he sucks harder. “Wait just a bit longer, baby.” 

Jake’s hand slides to his pants, pulling out his throbbing cock and slowly palming himself while he brings you closer to your orgasm, his free hand still digging into the flesh of your thigh. “Need you to hold it in, love. Want to cum together,” he groans, his tongue flicking between your folds. “God, your pussy is so good.” 

You whine, your eyes closed as your hand finds his head, pushing him closer against your clit, needing the release. You feel him smirk, letting his cock free for a minute as he holds you with both hands again, opening your legs wider. “Jake!” 

“Fuck,” he whines again, pulling away from you completely which only causes you to whimper. “Say it again.” 

“What?” You shoot your eyes to him again, shaking your head as you try to bring him closer again. You fail. “Say my name again, say it over and over again and I’ll let you cum, okay?” You nod, his name leaving your lips in a broken whine. “That’s my girl,” he smirks before dipping in again. You gasp at his harsh suck but you definitely don’t complain. “Jake, Jak–Jake–mhm.” 

“Yes, baby, it’s me. I’m making you feel all good, aren’t I?” You nod fiercely, throwing your head back as you tug on his hair lightly. He whines again, finally bringing you to your climax with one last lick. Your legs tremble around his head but he doesn’t seem to mind at all, giving you a few more licks so you can ride it out before coming up to you, stealing a kiss from you immediately. “You taste fucking amazing, you feel that?” 

The taste of your own cum on his lips feels weird but you never pull away from him, only deepening the kiss. You glance down quickly, finding his hand palming over his length again as he kisses you, trying to reach his own climax. You wrap your hand around his and he smirks against your lips. “Want to help with that?” 

Your mouth is wrapped around his tip quickly, looking up at him as you move your head for some sort of reassurance. Which is exactly what you get as he cups your face, moaning loudly at the sight of you. He could watch you forever, especially when you’re stuffed with his cock. 

“God, baby, have I told you you’re absolutely gorgeous?” He groans again and you only suck harder instead of responding. He starts blabbing things after that, soft praises leaving his lips as if it was the only thing he knew how to do. You stop paying attention to them in the middle of it but your body still responds, your pussy getting wet again. 

You pull back slightly just to tease him but Jake doesn’t seem to like it much as he thrusts back into your mouth, his cock hitting the back of your throat. You gag but don’t pull back again, relaxing your mouth completely and letting him gently thrust into you on his own. He doesn’t care, closing his eyes and gently brushing his thumb on your cheek just to feel himself. 

He comes down your throat slowly after and you gag again, pulling back completely before swallowing. He praises you again and again, kissing you as if you are the air he breathes. Because to him, you are. Your bodies wrap together as your kisses turn gentler, more loving. 

You just lay in the bed for a while, leaving wet kisses all over each other’s bodies, leaving marks behind before Jake’s alarm rings and he takes you to the bathroom, helping you clean up in the shower. When both of you are done washing he throws a jersey over your head, making you glance down confusedly. You had your own team clothes to wear with the team logo and everything but before you could protest your eyes land on the number on the jersey, realizing it’s his. 

“You want me to wear this?” 

“I want everyone at the rink to know my gorgeous, talented, lovely and smart girlfriend already belongs to someone,” he whispers, capturing your lips in another kiss. You smile, nodding slightly. In that case, you were going to wear his jersey for the rest of your life.

As soon as the game ends Jake runs into your arms, picking you up and spinning around before pushing his lips against yours. You giggle, wrapping your hands around his neck and pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. 

Tigers won 5-2, three of those points scored by Jake because as you later found out, he told Heeseung about your little deal and so he helped him get as many goals as possible. You don’t even care, for all you care he could have scored zero and you’d still let him have whatever he wants. 

Your dad clears his throat behind you and Jake gently places you back to the ground, grinning happily. “How was that?” 

“Amazing,” Taehyun pats his back from behind, the other guys slowly joining in. “As the MVP today you’re buying, right?” Heeseung wiggles his eyebrows as he wraps his arm around Jake’s shoulder, making him scoff. “I only buy food for my lover and myself, I don’t think you fit in either of those categories,” Jake shakes him off quickly. You shake your head at the interaction, the smile on your face never leaving as you congratulate them all. 

Jake wraps his hand around your waist, keeping you close as he talks to his team about the game. You don’t mind at all. You wrap your arm around him as well, smiling back at his friends when they give you a teasing, knowing look. This time, your dad seems to have the same smile on his face, looking at Jake more proudly than as if it was a warning. 

“Okay, go change quickly so we can go,” you say, placing a quick peck on his cheek to which Heeseung laughs with a whistle, taking your boyfriend from you. Jake mumbles something under his breath but you don’t pay it any attention, watching him leave with a smile. 

“The jersey suits you,” your dad speaks all of a sudden, making you turn to him. “Yeah?” You bite your lip nervously, looking down. “Thank you. For accepting him,” you smile, looking at him again. He rolls his eyes, almost as if that wasn’t exactly true, yet. “He still needs to work for it. I’ll have my eye on him during the whole week.” You chuckle, nodding. “Have fun with that.” 

It’s four pm when you finally part ways with the rest of the guys, your fingers laced with Jake’s as you walk towards his car, sliding into the passenger seat after he opens the door for you. He settles in the driver’s position, looking around. “Did you have fun?” He wonders, his voice soft, soothing. You smile, reaching for his hand again as you assure him it was great. 

“But next time, let’s eat alone, just the two of us, yeah?” 

You agree, squeezing his hand in his. “I’d love that.” 

“Good,” Jake smiles, leaning in and capturing your lips with his. “How about dinner tomorrow?” He asks between kisses, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. You hum against his lips, agreeing. Your fingers tangle in his hair, keeping him close as you deepen the kiss, enjoying the alone time with him. You were definitely going to make use of all the time you have during this break, with no roommates standing in your way and no exams watching over your back. 

You stay in the parking lot for a few more minutes, sharing kisses and light touches with soft giggles that make you fall for him just a bit more. “I like you so much,” you mumble and Jake’s grip on your waist tightens. “Yeah?” He teases, a smirk forming on his lips. You roll your eyes at his reaction, kissing him again. “I like you a lot too,” he says and even though you’ve heard him say it many times before, it warms your heart in a way that makes you feel like he just said the other L-word for the first time. 

“Let’s go,” Jake leans back in his seat, finally starting the car and driving off. His right hand rests on your thigh soon after, his eyes focused on the road. You smile, stealing glances at your boyfriend as he drives you home. You could definitely get used to this. 

Jake grabs your bags from the truck of his car while you open the front door of your house, greeting your parents before running out again to help him. However, when you reach him, asking him to give you one of the bags so he doesn’t carry it all on his own, he just brushes you off, saying he’s got it. You know he does, that he could easily pick you up as well but you still want to help. 

“Love, just go inside and watch me with your pretty eyes, yeah? I’m not gonna have you carry some bags when there’s no reason for you to.” 

You roll your eyes but still listen, walking in empty-handed with your boyfriend right behind you. “Dear, go help the poor boy,” your mum nudges your father immediately when her eyes land on Jake. He however shakes his head, still refusing any help. Your dad scoffs but there’s a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Which room is yours?” You point towards a door and he nods, leaving you in the hallway alone. 

“He’s more handsome in person,” your mom teases immediately, making you roll your eyes with a smile and your dad grumble something. “Please, just let him breathe. Both of you.” You mom giggles, taking your dad with herself back to the kitchen so they can resume cooking and you quickly run to your room. 

Jake is sitting on your bed and looking around the room when you come inside. His eyes immediately flicker to you and he opens his arms with a smile, telling you to come closer. You step between his legs, letting him wrap his arms around your waist and rest his head on your stomach. 

The two of you settle in your bed, laptop opened on Jake’s lap as you watch a movie, cuddling together. The moment is sweet, relaxing, something he’s been craving after the intense game earlier. When your mom comes into the room to tell you dinner is almost ready, Jake immediately jumps out, offering his help. 

You watch him joke around with your mom as he moves around the kitchen, helping her finish up. He starts a conversation about today’s game with your dad as well, listening to all his feedback. It makes your heart ache. It’s like he belongs there, in the small space of the kitchen, in your family, in your life. You experienced relationships and grew to realize they weren’t easy, they were hard, with obstacles on every corner but with Jake, it was the opposite. You thought it would be hard, and it was for a while at first but now, it just seemed like this was how things were supposed to be. 

“How many points did you score today?” Your mom asks curiously, setting down a plate in front of Jake. He smirks, glancing at you for a brief moment before answering. “Three. But I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t score anything if it wasn’t for your daughter cheering me on the whole time.” Your mom smiles proudly and you blush, kicking his feet under the table. He chuckles, his hand finding a way to your thigh and giving it a tight squeeze. You stay quiet after that. 

The conversation flows naturally as you continue eating. Your mom talks about memories from your childhood, family vacations, how you first started skating, and even some of your more embarrassing stories you’d rather forget. Your cheeks flush red and it takes everything in you not to shut down the conversation immediately. However, when the familiar sounds of Jake’s quiet laugh rings in your ears and you notice the happiness on his face, you stop yourself. The embarrassment you felt slowly turns into something softer, more gentle. 

Jake eases into the rhythm of your family quickly, assuring your father of his good intentions every time he feels the warry in his eyes, joking around with your mother as she sets the picture of little you into his head. He bets you were the cutest kid. 

He offers to help with cleaning the dishes but your mom refuses, telling him to go spend more time with you, which he happily agrees to. You roll your eyes when you hear their conversation but lead Jake back to your room nonetheless. 

“Your mom loves me,” Jake grins proudly, closing the door shut behind you. You smile, shaking your head. “Don’t let it get into your pretty head, captain. That doesn’t mean you’re not being watched by my father all the time,” you close the space between you, your voice teasing. When you look up at him, he’s smirking. “Call me that again,” something flickers in his eyes as his hands find your hips, pressing your body against his. 

“Captain?” you raise an eyebrow at his request but the tease in your voice never falls. “Is that what turns you on?” you whisper, pressing onto him more until his back reaches the door. “Maybe,” he leans closer, claiming your lips with his as his hands wander to your lower back, taking in every inch of your body as he moves lower, giving your ass a tight squeeze before lifting you up as if you weigh nothing. 

You wrap your legs around his hips, your fingers tangling in his hair as you deepen the kiss, a soft moan escaping your lips. “God, you’re absolutely beautiful.” A shiver runs down your spine as he says your name. “Tell me what you want, baby. What you want me to do.” No words leave your mouth as you press your lips on his again, pressing your hips on his harder as a form of answer. He smirks again, walking over to your bed where he drops you. You gasp but can’t help and laugh as he comes closer, spreading your legs and settling between them. 

“Words, love. I want words from you.” You moan again as he presses himself against you, feeling his bulge through the layers of clothing you’re both wearing. “Anything, everything–” you gasp when he rolls his hips against yours in a slow, teasing motion. “You promised three rounds, Captain.” 

Jake grins, watching your lips part as his hands wander over your body again. Gentle touch on your shoulder, his fingers brushing over the skin of your arms, his hands coming under your shoulder to trace over your stomach and breast. Your breath shakes as you watch him, your eyes following his every movement. “I’ve been waiting for this for so long,” he mumbles, kissing you hungrily, the kiss able to convey all his feelings. “Dreamed of you like this.” His right hand moves lower, stopping between your legs and pressing it over your core. 

“Jake,” you gasp as his lips move lower, leaving wet kisses and marks over your jaw and neck. He hums against your skin, pulling off your pants with ease. “Yes, baby?” He asks as he slides your panties to the side, his fingers flicking between your folds. “What do you need, tell me.” 

You grind your hips against him on an instinct, a soft whimper of his name leaving your lips. “Need you, need– fuck,” you whine, looking up at him. “Come here, closer. Need you closer.” He smirks, leaning down and holding your chin with his left hand, making you look at him. “That’s it, baby. Use your words,” he kisses you again, his tongue fighting with yours as he rips your panties away, making you yelp. 

You barely register him pulling his pants off as he cups your breast in his hands, massaging them as he waits for your every reaction. His mind is clouded with thoughts of you, what he’s going to do, what kind of pleasure he would bring you. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. He needs to hold himself back not to cum untouched just from the way you look at him. 

“In, Jake, please,” you beg and something in him flickers. He moans, the sound sending a shiver through your whole body, and pushes your legs up, making you hold them. His eyes focus on your cunt, aligning his cock with your entrance. “God, you’re so fucking wet, darling. I can just slide into you–” he pushes his tip in, making you gasp, “with ease.”  

Your nails dig into his shoulders, your mouth wide open, the only sounds leaving your lips being a few broken gasps, barely audible once. Yet, they are loud enough for Jake. He leans closer, placing a few open-mouthed kisses on your collarbone. “So good,” he moans against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. “It’s like you were made for me entirely,” he praises, his kisses lowering to your breast. He lets out a silent grunt as your nails dig deeper but he never backs away. 

“I–” I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. The words are loud and clear in his head, the urge to say them out loud for the whole world to hear so strong he has to bite down his tongue not to do so. But, god, does he want nothing more. “I need you so bad,” he says in the end instead, listening to your quiet moans as he thrusts into you, quickening his pace. 

Your eyes roll back, one of your hands squeezing the sheets beneath you while the other finds Jake’s, lacing your fingers together. Your bodies move against each other, the room getting hotter each second as you get closer to your climax. “So good,” he praises you again, his teeth digging into the soft skin of your shoulder. “Jake, I’m gonna–” You don’t even get to finish your sentence as he thrusts harder into you, making you gasp. It only takes a few more quick hip movements before your breath shakes and you reach your orgasm. 

Jake pulls out right after, cursing under his breath as he palms himself over your stomach, finding his release as well. “Mhm–more,” you beg, holding onto his wrist. He goes crazy over your words, flipping you onto your stomach with ease. “You want more?” he asks with a smirk, pressing his body against your back as he leans to your ear. “You better have a condom on hand then because I do not want to be pulling out again.” 

Your whole body trembles as you point towards a drawer beside your bed, watching his hand reach for it. It takes a few seconds but the same hand rests on your back soon, tracing his fingers across your spine, making you arch your back. He chuckles when you raise your ass, your breast pressing against your mattress. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, giving your ass a tight squeeze once again before he feel him enter you from behind again. 

You lose track of time, how long it takes for Jake to bring you to your climax again, how much time passes before he goes down on you, encouraging you on your third release of that night, you don’t remember how many times you truly come on his tongue either, everything getting blurry in your head, the only thing you can focus on being Jake’s moans and whines. It’s music to your ears, just as much as your moans are to his based on what he tells you. 

I love you. Jake fights the words back again as he rests on top of you, gazing into your eyes as if you were the only thing he could see. Because to him, you were. “You did so well,” he says, cupping your cheek and brushing a few sweaty strands of your hair off your face. “You weren’t so bad yourself, Captain,” you smile back, pressing your lips on yours in a soft, gentle kiss. 

“Let me help you wash up?” You nod and he immediately stands up, ready to get to work. 

The rest of the week goes on like a dream. Jake takes you out every day, on dates, night strolls, buying you flowers or sweets the moment he sets his eyes on a shop for even a mere second. You certainly can’t say you’d mind. And somehow, in the mix of the days you spend with him, you notice a shift in your parents behaviour, mostly your dad’s. His intense stares, the ones supposed to dig a hole in the middle of Jake’s forehead, slowly turn softer, watching him with much more appreciation you’d dare to say. 

“You need to come back soon, dear,” your mother says, making you roll your eyes as she eagerly holds Jake’s hands. “Shouldn’t you be saying that to your own daughter?” You question, watching as your boyfriend leaves out a soft laugh. “I’d love to visit soon again, I’m sure we can arrange something,” he agrees and she finally lets go of his hands. You replace his spot, hugging her goodbye with a promise of finding time to visit. 

“Sir,” Jake smiles as he steps in front of your father. They stay silent for a moment, watching each other before they both laugh, your dad pulling him into a hug, as if he was the son he called him before he became your boyfriend again. “I’d like to say you surprised me but I always knew you would be good to her.” 

“Did not seem like it before,” you comment, watching their exchange. Your dad sends you a look but doesn’t say anything. “Just…continue treating her right,” your dad turns his attention back to Jake, “otherwise, your death can still be arranged.” Your mom slaps his shoulder but Jake only laughs, nodding. “I promise to treat her like a princess,” he assures him, mocking a prince’s bow to prove his point. You shake your head at him, locking his arm with yours. “Let’s go.” 

He listens well, that’s something you’ve learnt over the past few days. Your bag swings over his shoulder as he laces his fingers with you, saying one last goodbye to your mom before leaving the house, taking you to his car. 

And as if the dream was to never end, the attention he pays to you, the care he holds for you, never disappears, only growing each day. He keeps to his promise and with every longing look from across the rink, every touch of his when you find yourselves back in your room, and every word he says to you, you find yourself falling for him more and more. 

“Oh but that’s not all,” he laughs, forming a grimace similar to disgust. “As if the whole conversation with Jay wasn’t weird enough on its own, I walk into the bathroom and boom, a lady hiding in there,” he says, skating ahead. You chuckle, following him with ease and listening to his stories. “I ran off immediately and called Sunghoon not to come back to the dorm anytime soon. Something Jay should have done for sure.” 

“But there’s a good thing that comes from it,” he turns around to face you, one of his boyish grins on again. “It gave me a reason not to be in my dorm studying, and also an excuse to see you.” You shake your head slightly, quickening your movements slightly to reach him. He offers you his hand immediately and you hold it without hesitation, letting him pull you closer. “I missed you.” 

“We’ve seen each other earlier today,” you remind him. 

“Not the same. Far from it.” 

You smile, not saying anything for a while as you simply let him guide you around the rink, your eyes locked with his. It’s quiet and yet, it feels like everything about the moment is loud and clear, letting the emotions you’ve been feeling for a while come out. 

“I love you,” you whisper. 

Jake’s eyes widen and he stops in his tracks, making you bump into him. “Say it again,” he begs, his eyes flickering from yours to your lips. “Please.” 

You smile, cupping his cheek. “I love you, Jake.” 

“God,” he breaths out, his arms wrapping around your waist as he picks you off the ground and spins around. “You just made me the happiest man on earth, you know that?” You laugh, telling him to put you back down. The moment he does, his lips find yours in a tender kiss, telling you everything you need to know. He pulls back and smiles, pressing his forehead on yours, “I love you.” 

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[szatears]

Girl dad smoke (taking care of wife a daughter)

mini hustler, smoke.

summary: smoke was never one to be picky about what gender child he wanted to raise when the time came, but it seemed that the universe had a plan of its own, and he was made to be a girl dad.

pairings: smoke x blackfem!reader, dad!smoke.

warnings: descriptions of reader, use of the n word, descriptions of pregnancy, established relationship, maybe some ooc smoke?

notes: okay i know this was sent in bc i asked for modernau reqs but i feel like i can write this better for the actual sinners universe smoke... :)))

You let out a hum of contentedness, leaning your head back against your husband's shoulders. His arms were wrapped securely around your waist as you both lounged on the outdoor settee, taking in the Mississippi sunset before you. His hands rested on your growing stomach, thumbs stroking gentle patterns.

You were almost six months along in your pregnancy, and Smoke had been with you every step of the way, as he had promised you when you first announced the news to him.

"You know," you broke the comfortable silence. "I think we're having a boy. He sits so low, 'n all the ladies say that means it's a boy."

"Stop calling my daughter a boy," he mumbled with a kiss to your temple, smiling when you let out a laugh.

"You mind what we have?" you asked.

He shook his head no. "Long as they healthy and grow up to be that 'n happy, I'on really mind."

You smiled at his words, placing your palms on top of his hands.

Life as an expecting mother was going by a lot faster than you imagined. One day you were with your mother picking out materials to make baby clothes from, the next you were sitting back relaxing as Smoke, Stack and Sammie attempted to build a baby crib.

"It don't look right," Smoke frowned. He stood behind you, arms wrapped around your stomach like they always were whenever he was around you lately.

"Man, how else it's supposed to look?" Sammie huffed, and you laughed. They'd been at it since the early morning and it was almost four o'clock now.

"Not like that, nigga. Why it only got three legs?"

"'Cause we're not fuckin' done with it yet, bruh. Chill, goddamn." Stack kissed his teeth, and you took that as your queue to get them something to drink, leaving them to bicker amongst themselves.

Your growing family was everything to you, and your heart warmed at every moment they spent tending to you and your unborn child. That was, when Smoke let them get close to you.

Smoke was already overprotective of you. but you when carrying his unborn child? It's like people needed permission to even breathe near you.

He needed you in his eyesight at all times or he'd start going insane. Never wanted you to do any heavy lifting, or even lift a finger if it was something he could handle.

"Whatchu doin' that for?" he'd scold you when he caught you about to step on a dining room chair to grab a box of your things from the top shelf.

"Elijah, I could've gotten that," you smiled sheepishly when his hand held your waist to place you back down on the ground, picking the box up for you.

"Yeah well, you ain't need to do all that when I'm right here," he kissed your cheek, sitting down on the chair with you in his lap as you opened up the box, revealing things from your childhood.

All this never phased you, if anything, it just solidified the feeling you had that he would make such a great father.

─── ༉‧₊˚✧ ───

"Stack, you drop her an' I swear to God, we gon' fight," Smoke mugged his brother as he played with his daughter, throwing her up into the air and catching her again.

"Man, move. I'm not gonna." Stack kissed his teeth, tickling his niece.

Three years ago, you gave birth to your daughter, Amaya Marie, and ever since, she'd been such a light in your life. Today, everyone was celebrating her birthday at yours and Smoke's house, the bustling sounds of laughter and chatter all around you.

You could hear her giggles as she played around with her Uncle Stack, the only important thing at the moment being that she was happy.

"She's fine, stop worrying," you brought your hands to either side of your husband's face, literally smoothing away his frown as you caressed his skin. He hummed, tearing his eyes away from his daughter to look at you, kissing your lips thrice.

Amaya had changed Smoke's life in ways he didn't even know could be changed. He found himself having a new purpose in life, catering for both you and her. Everything he did was for the both of you, making sure she didn't grow up to know the life of hardship and struggles.

She may have had your eyes and nose, but her personality? Oh boy, that was growing to be all Smoke. He spoiled her, as you often complained, but that didn't stop him from doing it.

Every new dress, new toy, new hair clip had her fawning over her father even more.

"Daddy look!" Amaya came running towards you both, as fast as her little legs could carry her. Smoke pulled away from you to pick her up and your eyes widened as she waved her hand in your face, showing off a crisp $10 bill.

"The hell?" you mumbled, looking at Smoke who just shrugged at you.

"Where'd you get this from, baby?" he asked Amaya, kissing her cheek over and over.

"From Uncle Stack," she managed to say through her giggles as Smoke tickled her.

You rolled your eyes playfully, knowing that if it wasn't Smoke giving her money, then it definitely was one of her uncles.

Just like her daddy, Amaya had grown to be quite the negotiator at just three years old.

"Is that right?" Smoke smiled, a little idea forming in his mind. "You wanna get some more?"

Amaya nodded, waving the bill around in her hand. He adjusted her in his arm, his free hand taking a hold of yours, leading you to sit down at the table with the rest of the ladies, Pearline handing you a cool glass of lemonade as you sat down.

"Say bye to mama," Smoke brought her closer to your face, and you smiled when she kissed your cheek, waving goodbye.

"Don't hurt my baby, Elijah," you warned him, taking a sip of the drink in front of you. He waved you off, walking away from you and towards where Stack, Sammie and them were, beers in their hands as they stood around laughing.

The smile on Stack's face grew when he saw two of his favourite people approaching him. "Wassup lil' bit?" He ruffled the top of Amaya's head, messing up her curls.

"Now, you know damn well Y/N gon' get you for doing that," Smoke swatted his brother's hand away, trying to fix his daughter's hair. "Heard you gave lil' miss some money."

"Yeah, she deserves it." Stack smiled.

Smoke nodded, looking down at Amaya you was already looking up at him like he hung the planets and stars in the sky. "Go 'head baby, just like we practiced before," he whispered to her.

Amaya nodded, turning around in her father's arms. "This ain't gonna work, Uncle Stack," she spoke clearly, waving the money in his face now.

Stack paused mid sip, furrowing his brows. "Whatchu mean by that?"

"I mean," Amaya huffed. "This isn't enough."

Stack cut his eyes to his brother, who held a proud smirk on his face as he looked back at him. "Girl, it's $10, that's plenty for you."

"Nuh uh," Amaya shook her head, earning a laugh from Sammie. Who handed off the music to Slim so he could join the conversation.

"Say Stack, you gettin' pressured by a youngin'?" he laughed, dodging when Stack stuck his arm out at him.

"Aight then," he bent down to Amaya's height in his brother's arms. "Name your price."

Amaya thought hard for a moment. "A hundred."

Stack let out a loud laugh, and even Smoke chuckled at that. "Girl, I said name a price, not be delusional. Must get that from your mother," he mumbled the last part, but Smoke heard loud and clear, punching Stack's shoulder. "It was a fucking joke, my God."

"Try a lil' lower baby. Don't lowball though, that's how you get 'em to take you serious," Smoke encouraged her, rubbing her arm soothingly. She nodded, turning back to her uncle.

"40."

"20."

"40."

"25."

"50."

"Aight, I'll give you forty, stop this madness," Stack huffed, opening his wallet as Amaya turned to Smoke.

"I did good?"

"You did great baby," he kissed both her cheeks as Stack handed his niece the money.

"We gotta take her with us one day, almost had me emptying my pockets." Stack watched as she ran over to her mother with all her money, smiling when she looked their way.

"Man, shut up."

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[bananabreads]

Dad!lads and their children not wanting them to 'steal' your attention ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚

Dad!Rafayel, Dad!Caleb, Dad!Sylus, Dad!Zayne, Dad!Xavier — <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>

RAFAYEL — "my turn!"

You sat comfortably on the couch, a gentle smile tugging at your lips as Seraphina rested in your lap, arms loosely wrapped around you like a koala, her tiny high pitched voice filling the room with endless stories about her day.

"...and then, uncle thomas' daughter, she brought this bubble wand! like big bubbles, mommy! Like, bigger than my face!" Seraphina exclaimed, eyes wide and expressive. "And then I tried to pop it with my nose, but it popped before I got there, so I think I need a faster nose."

You chuckled, brushing your fingers through her soft hair. "A faster nose, huh? Sounds like we need to train it.”

She gasped in mock seriousness, "Yeah, like nose push ups!"

The two of you giggled in sync just as Rafayel wandered in, paint smudged slightly on his forearm and his energy softened by the effort of his most recent piece. He spotted the two of you—your daughter cuddled close to your chest, your eyes so tender as you listened, and something in him just melted immediately. Without a word, he came to sit beside you, exhaling softly.

Seraphina barely acknowledged him, too caught up in recounting how she tried to race a random squirrel in the park and “almost won.”

Rafayel leaned his head against your shoulder, closing his eyes for a moment. You welcomed his touch and leaned into him, your cheek pressing gently against his forehead. He wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you with the quiet clinginess of someone who’d missed you, maybe not for long, but long enough to feel it in his chest.

You kissed his forehead without needing to say a word. He sighed again, content.

That is, until a tiny hand poked his cheek.

Seraphina turned her head just slightly, squinting at her father with narrowed, suspicious eyes. But when you hummed again, encouraging her to continue, she ignored him, for now.

Rafayel shifted closer, his head now tucked into the crook of your neck. He pressed a warm, tender kiss to your skin, inhaling your scent with a kind of reverence that made you blush a little. His arm around you tightened just slightly, like he was grounding himself.

Unfortunately, Seraphina was not having it.

She made an annoyed noise and shuffled, a little more squished now between the two of you. She tried to scoot back into your lap further like she was trying to reclaim lost ground.

“Daddy,” she huffed. “Go away…! I want mommy!”

Rafayel chuckled against your skin, low and amused, ruffling Seraphina’s hair as she pouted.

“Hey now..” he teased, “I was here first in spirit.”

Seraphina scowled and smacked his hand away weakly, “Daddy! Stop stealing mommy!”

She wrapped her arms around your middle now, glaring at her father like he was the villain of her princess story. Her small hands gripped your shirt as she dramatically clung to you. You gave her a kiss on the forehead to soothe her, gently laughing. “There’s enough of mommy to share, princess.”

“No!” she insisted, “It’s my turn!”

Rafayel’s arms didn’t budge. Instead, he pulled both of you closer and nuzzled against your neck again.

“Can’t help it,” he murmured, voice smooth but sleepy. “She’s my wife. I need her touch to recharge,” he added.

“She’s my mommy!” Seraphina growled with as much authority as a four year old could muster. With surprising determination, she carefully stood up on your lap and went between you and rafayel, trying to push him away with her little hands.

“Daddy, move! It’s my turn with mommy!” she declared.

You nearly burst out laughing at the sight, your daughter trying to push her father away, trying to weakly shove him off the couch while Rafayel just laid there dramatically, acting like Seraphina actually pushed him away, and his arms spread out like he’d been defeated in battle.

“Ahh, the betrayal…” he jokingly said. “Wounded by my own daughter.”

“Daaaaddyyyy!” she whined louder now, clearly not in the mood for games.

“Alright, alright,” you said through your laughter, scooping her gently in your arms before she ended up headbutting someone. “Let’s make a deal, five more minutes of mommy time, and then daddy gets one kiss. Fair?”

Seraphina crossed her arms, glaring at Rafayel. “...Fine. But only one. And it has to be a quiet kiss.”

You turned to Rafayel who raised his brows playfully, “Didn’t know kisses came with volume settings.”

“Daaaaddy!” she whined again.

You laughed again, leaning in to kiss him softly, sweet, and warm, short enough to appease Seraphina but just long enough to make Rafayel sigh in mock defeat once more.

CALEB — little drama queen

You were sitting in the living room, legs folded comfortably, while your daughter lay flat on her stomach in front of you, muttering something about gymnastics and how “her spine felt like spaghetti now.”

She’d been trying to do backflips all morning. On the couch. On the floor. Off the edge of the bed. Caleb told her she needed supervision, and a mat, and maybe a coach, but she wasn’t having it. Now here she was, exhausted, grumbling, and insisting you massage her poor, hardworking back.

“You didn’t stretch, baby,” you reminded her gently as your fingers worked slow circles down her spine.

“I did! I touched my toes twice,” she mumbled into the throw pillow.

You bit back a laugh. “Not enough.”

After a while, her protests faded into little hums, her breathing slowed, and her eyes started fluttering shut. She was clearly fighting sleep, but it wasn’t a fair fight anymore.

You lifted her gently and placed her down on the side of the couch where there was already pillows, carefully tucking the fluffy blanket over her tiny body. She melted into it, arms splayed, cheek smushed against the pillow. You ran your fingers through her hair once more, and finally, she was out.

“Perfect execution, honey.” came a familiar, quiet voice.

You to find Caleb leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, watching the scene with a small, proud smirk.

“And just like that… our little beast sleeps,” he whispered.

You playfully glared at him. “She’s not a beast.”

“She tried to backflip off the stairs,” he deadpanned.

“Fair point.” you said as you softly chuckled.

He pushed off the doorway and walked toward you, stepping around your daughter’s kingdom of plushies and toys. He gave the couch a quick glance, eyes narrowing just slightly as he made sure her breathing was deep and even. Satisfied she was truly asleep, Caleb turned to you with a raised brow and a sly grin.

“I’ve calculated that we have exactly,” he glanced at the clock, “ten, maybe twelve minutes of uninterrupted peace.”

You raised an eyebrow. “That’s generous.”

He leaned down, cupping your face with one hand and brushing a kiss to your forehead. “Let’s not waste it.”

You quietly laughed, and he stood up again, taking your hand. “Come on. While she’s out. 15 minute window.”

You followed him into the kitchen, where he slid his arms around your waist and pulled you close. “No interruptions. No flips. Just me and my very pretty wife, who owes me a kiss for being the parent who caught her mid air dive off the sofa earlier.”

You rolled your eyes but leaned in, hands gently resting on his chest. “One kiss?”

Caleb quickly replied, “At least ten.”

But just as his lips brushed against yours—

Thud!

You both froze.

Another thud.

Then—

“Mommyyyy…” came the most tragically theatrical voice imaginable from the couch. “I’m cold… and lonely… and no one loves me anymore…”

You peeked over Caleb’s shoulder to see your daughter had rolled right off the couch, on purpose, and was now lying face down on the floor like a fallen soldier.

She didn’t even look hurt. She was just flopped there like she’d been abandoned for centuries.

Caleb groaned, dropping his forehead to your shoulder. “No way..”

“She’s doing the dramatic faint again,” you whispered, trying not to laugh.

Your daughter slowly rolled over the two of you, looking up at you with big watery eyes and a pout that could end worlds. “I couldn't feel you anymore, and my back still hurts a little.. and daddy stole you..”

Caleb stepped out beside you, arms crossed, looking very serious. “Hey, hey, don’t pin this on me. I was just—”

“You stole mommy with kisses,” she said, pointing at him accusingly. “You were kissing.”

“Mommyyyyy…” your daughter whimpered again, now dragging the blanket and crawling toward you like a starved kitten.

You sighed, your heart melting.

You smiled and crouched down, scooping her up. She nuzzled into your shoulder instantly, letting out a content sigh.

But she didn’t stop there.

Still in your arms, she turned her head toward Caleb and gave him the cutest sleepy glare. “You have to wait your turn, Daddy.”

Caleb put a hand on his chest, feigning heartbreak. “She’s turning you against me.”

“No, she’s just attached to me,” you said, kissing your daughter’s temple.

He walked closer, brushing her hair back and placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. She didn't do anything and just gave a big yawn.

SYLUS — "you have to wait, daddy!"

Caleb grinned, wrapping his arms around both of you in a loose, cozy hug.

The scent of fruit scented markers, children jewelry, and faint smell from your daughter’s favorite lotion lingered in the living room. You were seated cross legged on the soft rug, a pastel pink blanket draped over your shoulders like a royal cape. In your lap sat your four year old daughter, ball of sparkle and drama, carefully applying stickers to your cheeks like you were the guest of honor at a royal coronation.

“This one means you’re brave,” she said, pressing a glittery unicorn sticker near your jaw. “And this one is for beauty. Because you're the prettiest queen ever, Mommy.”

You smiled, tucking a strand of her dark hair behind her ear. “High praise, coming from the princess herself.”

Your daughter giggled, her tiny legs kicking playfully as she adjusted the plastic tiara on her head for the fiftieth time. “We match!”

That’s when the door opened.

The lock clicked softly, followed by the subtle weight of Sylus' footsteps. You didn’t need to look to know it was him, you felt the shift in the air. He never entered a room loudly, but there was a kind of presence to him. A calm that followed wherever he went.

He had just returned from a quick business deal. His suit jacket was draped over one arm, tie slightly loosened, and the light from the hallway framed him in quiet gold as he stepped into your world of dolls and dressed up.

He paused when he saw you both,his eyes flicking to your daughter, then to you, noting the stickers on your face, the tiara, the slight smudge of pink on your cheek.

“Looks like I missed a coronation,” he said lowly, a rare warmth in his voice.

Your daughter perked up but didn’t move from your lap. “Daddy!” she grinned, but then quickly turned serious as she threw her arms around your waist protectively. “Wait—no! Mommy's still mine right now!”

Sylus blinked and had that teasing voice, “Is that so?”

“We’re not done with the royal coronation!” she explained with the utmost importance, pointing to the sticker sheet. “She needs her magic star sticker and her sparkle serum, or she’ll lose her powers!”

You gave Sylus a look that barely concealed your laughter. He raised an eyebrow, unbothered, and stepped closer.

“I see,” he murmured, setting his jacket gently over a nearby chair. “Should I come back when the queen regains her powers?”

Your daughter nodded gravely. “Yes. Or you might interrupt the spell.”

Sylus crouched beside you quietly, one knee down on the rug, and looked straight at your daughter.

“Then I’ll be careful,” he said. “But I did come home early… because I missed your mommy.”

Your daughter's lip puffed out as she turned her whole body toward you, her sparkly bracelet clinking softly. “But I missed mommy all day! I haven’t even had princess tea with her yet!”

Sylus didn’t argue. He simply reached forward and gently brushed your hair back, letting his knuckles graze your cheek where a heart-shaped sticker sparkled. His touch lingered there, eyes on you, not demanding, not impatient. Just… waiting.

You tilted your head slightly toward his hand, and your daughter let out a little gasp, scandalized.

“Daddy!” she whisper yelled. “You’re breaking the sparkle bond!”

Sylus drew back instantly, lips twitching into the smallest amused smile. “Forgive me, Princess.”

She frowned at him, then looked back at you. “Don’t move, Mommy. We’re almost done. I’ll let Daddy hug you after the ceremony.”

Sylus stood again, brushing imaginary dust off his slacks like he was waiting for a boardroom verdict. “Understood. I’ll be in the audience.”

He didn’t leave, though. He sat on the edge of the couch behind you, resting an arm along the backrest—close enough to touch you, but he didn’t. He just sat there, watching you both, eyes soft, content to let your daughter have her moment.

Eventually, your daughter pressed the final sticker on your hand and declared, “The queen is restored!”

You leaned back into Sylus, who wasted no time reaching forward and wrapping an arm around your waist. You felt the quiet relief in his touch, even if he didn’t say a word.

Your looked up at him and said thoughtfully, “Okay, you can have Mommy now. But only a little bit.”

Sylus met her gaze, calm as ever. “I don’t need much.”

And with that, he leaned forward and kissed your temple—slow, grateful.

ZAYNE — silent demands

Your daughter didn’t interrupt this time. She was too busy arranging her dolls for her tea party and arranging new stickers that she'll be using for her father next.

You were sitting on the couch, Jasmine sitting peacefully on your lap, her small hands clutching her stuffed penguin as her cheek pressed against your chest.

You weren’t doing much, just sitting with her, brushing her hair with your fingers as she hummed softly, occasionally pointing to the stars beginning to appear outside the window.

“Mommy,” she whispered, “that one looks like a flower.”

You followed her gaze, smiling as you kissed the top of her head. “It kind of does, doesn’t it?”

She nodded, settling in deeper into your warmth, like she was trying to melt into you. Her voice was always gentle like that, soft, quiet, never loud even when excited. Her affection didn’t come with squeals, but with long glances, small gestures, and her whole body leaning into yours like your presence cradled her.

Zayne entered a few moments later, his steps quiet as ever. He’d just finished with a call in his study, sleeves rolled up, his watch now resting on the side table. He stood by the doorway for a moment, watching you both in silence, before making his way over.

Jasmine saw him, but didn’t say anything. She just held her penguin a little tighter.

Zayne sat beside you, the couch dipping under his weight. He didn’t say anything right away, just let out a soft exhale and gently placed a hand on your leg, fingers curling there.

You looked at him, smiling softly. “Tired?”

“A bit,” he murmured, his voice low and close. “But this helps.”

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead, slow and deliberate. Jasmine’s arms around her penguin tightened.

Zayne leaned in more now, wrapping an arm around you as he rested his forehead against your temple. “Missed you both today.”

You hummed, returning the sentiment with a gentle squeeze of his hand. But you felt it, Jasmine shifting ever so slightly in your lap, tucking herself closer like she was afraid he might pull you away.

Zayne noticed too.

His eyes glanced toward her, and he moved back just enough to see her face.

“Hey, sweetie..” he said gently. “I’m not taking mommy away.”

Jasmine didn’t respond. She just shook her head a little and held her penguin closer, her eyes downcast.

“I… I just want mommy a little more,” she said softly, barely above a whisper.

Zayne blinked, then slowly let out a breath as if the quiet request had tugged his heartstrings.

He nodded. “Alright. I understand.”

He brushed his hand over her head lightly, then leaned down to press a soft kiss to her hair. “You’ve been waiting all day, haven’t you?”

Jasmine gave a tiny nod, still holding you close, her face gently tucked beneath your chin now. She wasn’t pushing him away, not really, she just didn’t want to be forgotten. She wasn’t loud about it, but the message was there, tender and clear: 'I need her, too.'

You rocked her slowly, wrapping your arms around her.

Zayne didn’t press further. He didn’t joke or tease, he just shifted so he could lay his head on your other shoulder, careful not to take any space Jasmine needed. His hand found yours again, his touch steady, grounding.

The three of you sat like that for a long while, the silence soft and full.

Eventually, Jasmine whispered, “You can have mommy after I fall asleep...”

Zayne smiled, his voice a quiet promise. “Then I’ll wait.”

And he did.

Even as her breathing slowed and her body relaxed against you, Zayne didn’t rush the moment. He stayed there beside you, hand in yours, content to love you both, in different ways, but just as deeply.

XAVIER - son's territory

The room was comfortably dim, the curtains letting in just enough of the Saturday afternoon light to cast everything in a soft golden haze. You, Xavier, and your son were all sprawled across the bed, enjoying the rare peace of a quiet day.

Your son was nestled right between you and Xavier, arms wrapped tightly around your own like it was the most precious pillow in the world. His little cheek was smushed against your arm, breaths deep and even. Xavier, meanwhile, had already fallen into a heavy sleep not long after lying down, face half buried in the blanket, one arm tossed lazily across the bed as if reaching for you even in his dreams.

At some point, Xavier started shifting closer in his sleep. His arm landed across your son’s back, and his leg crept a little too close. Your son let out a tiny, muffled grumble but didn’t fully wake. Instead, he clung to your arm tighter like it was the only safe thing left in this slowly shrinking cuddle space. Xavier, still asleep, moved again, accidentally squishing the poor kid even more in his unconscious attempt to cuddle you.

That was when your son had had enough.

With a tiny huff, he stirred awake and sat up groggily, rubbing one eye with the back of his hand while the other hand reached for his favorite stuffed animal. He didn't cry or whine, just blinked slowly and began his mission with quiet determination.

He started crawling around the bed like a little general preparing for war, gathering plushies, pillows, and even tugging half the blanket along with him. He worked in silence, occasionally looking back to make sure Xavier was still knocked out.

You blinked awake when you felt the small weight returning, your son had crawled right back into your arms, snuggling into your side with a sleepy little sigh. You smiled down at him, brushing his hair from his forehead, your heart instantly melting at the sight.

But then you noticed it.

A wall—no, a barricade, had appeared.

Your son had carefully arranged his plushies and pillows into a full body barrier between himself and Xavier. The stuffed animals were stacked like sleepy guards, a fortress of soft limbs and squishy faces that formed an unmistakable boundary. A makeshift torso. Even a pillow “head.” He’d crafted an entire decoy dad to keep the real one from sneaking past his defenses.

You let out a soft laugh, covering your mouth so you wouldn’t wake either of them.

Your son, sensing you were awake, peeked up at you with drowsy, half lidded eyes. “Mommy…” he mumbled, already sinking back into sleep.

On the other side of the barricade, Xavier snored softly, completely oblivious to the pillow decoy that had replaced your warmth.

“mommy's just right here, buddy..,” you whispered, kissing the top of his head.

[kingkaisen]

suggestion for your dad gojo series?idk if it’s too heavy so feel free to skip!!reader is chronically ill and/OR the kids worry that she has a terminal disease because she’s been very sick and weak lately, so they call gojo (who’s away on a mission) with over exaggerated claims on reader’s health and practically beg him to come back home. This could be either an actual illness or maybe something more lighthearted, like reader just has the flu etc and the kids are just being dramatic

“IS SHE GONNA DIE?!”

♡ —𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: This fic is part of my dad!gojo series, but reading the other parts isn’t necessary. All you need to know is that you & Satoru recently adopted two of Satoru’s students: Megumi & Yuji, and you also have young biological daughter.

♡ — 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Satoru gave your son, Yuji, one job: keep everyone safe while he was gone. So why, just why, were you practically on your death bed?

♡ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: Tiny bit of angst but this is overall lighthearted, suicide joke, general descriptions of being unwell, your family loves you much they assume the worst when you sneeze to be honest!

♡ — 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4K

When Satoru Gojo wasn’t around, Yuji considered himself to be the man of the house, thank you very much.

Did anyone officially bestow such a title upon him? No, not technically. But Satoru was parting on a month-long mission to a different continent, and before he walked out of the front door — and after he showered your face with kisses, playfully tossed your daughter in the air, and ruffled Megumi’s hair — he, too, ruffled his other student-turned-adopted son’s head of pinkish hair and said, “keep everyone safe, Yuji.”

Yuji’s brown eyes widened but then closed as he smiled brightly.

“You got it!” He gave Satoru a thumbs up, and that was that.

Therefore, when it came to day eight of Keeping Everyone Safe, Yuji found himself pacing back and forth outside of the bathroom door, gripping strands of his messy hair with his trembling hands.

He heard a few faint coughs from the other side of the door. He halted his footsteps. Knocking gently, he waited for a response, but one never came.

“Mom? Are you okay?” He called out. “You’ve been in there a while.”

No response.

Yuji pressed his ear against the door, listening for any sign of life, and yet again, only silence acknowledged him.

He took several steps back, preparing to launch himself at the door to break it down. If you got upset with him for doing so, so be it — at least your lecture would mean that you were alright.

“Three . . . Two . . . One . . .” Yuji thought, but before he could break out into a sprint full-speed ahead, Megumi suddenly turned the corner of the hallway, giving Yuji a puzzled look.

“What are you doing now?” Megumi scratched the side of his head.

“Stand back, I’m about to bust the door down.”

“Why?”

“Mom’s been in the bathroom for a long time,” Yuji turned his head to look at Megumi’s expressionless face. “I don’t know if she’s throwing up or bleeding out or unconscious . . . and she won’t answer me, so I’m gonna break in.”

Yuji looked the door up and down as if sizing up an opponent.

“What if she’s leaning against the door? She’ll get hurt,” Megumi said.

“Got a better idea?”

“Yeah. It’s called respecting her privacy. If she’s not feeling well, just give her a little time.”

“But she’s not answering me.” Yuji frowned. His face resembled that of a kicked puppy. Turning around, he leaned his back against the bathroom door. “She’s fine, right? She probably just ate something bad for dinner last night, right?”

Megumi glanced down at the floor, his brows furrowed — a telltale sign that he was thinking. “If that was the case, I think we’d all be sick, considering we all ate the same thing.”

“No, no, remember a couple months ago when we ordered pizza and-”

“And you got sick, and I didn’t. I remember. I’m pretty sure that was because I had one slice, and you ate the majority of the box without pacing yourself. But, putting all that aside, if she is sick, it can’t be from something she ate. She’s been coming down with something for four days now, at least.”

“Huh?” Yuji raised his eyebrows. “How do you know?”

Megumi sighed. “It’s been taking her a long time to do simple tasks. Her eyes are sunken in, and she’s been pretty quiet lately as well. She also-”

“Oh my god, she’s gonna die.” Yuji found himself sitting on the floor, his fingers, yet again, pulling at the strands of his hair. “She’s been dying for four days and you didn’t tell me?”

“I’m sure she’s not going to die-”

“Megumi, If she dies, I’m just gonna end it all, ‘cause I won’t be the one to tell dad that his wife died. No way. I had one job, to keep everyone safe! She could already be dead, you know, just lying on the bathroom floor, dead. Our mom. Deceased. How do we explain this to Maya? To Dad? Remember how he reacted when she caught a cold? This is bad, this is really-”

Suddenly, the door opened. Yuji nearly fell backward onto the bathroom floor but quickly caught himself before turning around to stare up at you.

“I can hear you,” you mumbled.

Oh, how pitiful you looked. Your eyes were sunken, your voice barely above a whisper.

Megumi gathered that, perhaps, you were replying to Yuji earlier, but if your current volume was as loud as your voice could get right now, it was no wonder he couldn’t hear you through the door.

“Mom! Are you okay? What’s going on?” Yuji sprung to his feet.

“I think you should see a doctor,” Megumi added.

“I’m fine, boys,” you whispered, slowly walking past them, and making your way down the hallway. “I’m just . . . I need to lay down.”

Yuji and Megumi exchanged a look. A slew of dangerous missions carried out alongside one another had gifted the two brothers the ability to tell an entire tale with just their facial expressions. One twitch of the brow and flicker of the eye, and Megumi knew just what Yuji wanted to ask him: Should we call the doctor anyway?

Yuji however, often struggled to read Megumi’s expressions, as the black-haired boy’s face was as blank as a fresh canvas more often than not. And right now, as Megumi did nothing more than glance back and forth between a worried Yuji and your slow-walking figure, disappearing into the depths of the house.

He didn’t know what to do.

Three hours later, Yuji ran his knife through the prepared sandwich sitting on the wooden cutting board on top of the kitchen island, slicing what would become his little sister’s dinner into two triangles.

“I’m not a chef, you know, but I made you the best sandwich ever, trust me.” Yuji put the halved sandwich on a plate. He then passed it to the young girl standing beside him, or at least, he tried to.

Though Maya had tugged on his pants leg ten minutes prior, pouting because she was hungry and you were still asleep, she folded her arms and poked her bottom lip out, refusing to take the plate.

“No,” she mumbled.

“What’s wrong?” Yuji frowned, tilting his head a tad. “Didn’t the best girl on the planet just tell me she wanted a super-duper-awesome sandwich?”

“I don’t want that! I miss mommy, and I miss daddy too. Can you get them?”

Oh, he understood.

Of course, Satoru was away, and poor Maya missed her dear dad even when he was gone for a couple of hours, let alone eight days.

He was the person she ran to when she came home from a playdate or preschool. He was the person she ran to when she woke up from a nap. When she wanted to share her snacks. When Barbie did something super-duper-awesome in her favorite movie.

And never, not once, had he greeted his little muffin with anything less than a big smile, no matter how he was feeling. Right now, she wanted nothing more than to run up to Dad and be lifted into the air and spun around and around as he talked to her sweetly and she giggled wildly.

However, you were still home, but in a lot of ways, you weren’t around either, hardly any different from an introverted ghost, haunting the hallways but not truly engaging with the residents who occupied it.

For Maya to turn down food because she missed you, must have meant she had grown tired of sandwiches and whatever else Yuji and Megumi tried to give her today. She wanted your cooking — for her mother to hand her a warm plate of yummy and nutritious food with a heartwarming smile and a forehead kiss.

“Mom’s sick right now, remember?” Yuji said gently. “So we need to do what we can to make things easier for her. And Dad will be back before you know it, you’ll see.”

The young girl still refused to take the sandwich.

Yuji got down on his knees. He, once again, tried to hand her the plate.

“C’mon, Maya Papaya. Don’t you wanna grow up to be big and strong? Only way to do that is to eat your sandwich.”

“Nuh-uh,” she shook her head.

Yuji sighed, rising to his feet. Perhaps, Megumi could coax her into taking a few bites, at least.

However, just as Yuji was about to shout his name, he heard slow-moving, shuffling footsteps approaching the kitchen.

“Mommy!” Maya squealed excitedly at the sight of you.

She ran for you, the gentle pitter-patter of her feet was yet loud enough to snap you out of the daze-like state you were in, almost as if you were sleepwalking. Introverted ghost.

Your daughter wrapped her small arms around you.

“Hi, sweetheart,” you mumbled, reaching down to ruffle her hair.

“Forget about the sandwich, Yuji. I can cook,” you gave your worried son a tired smile.

“Are you sure?” He asked, frowning.

You nodded, making your way to the kitchen sink once Maya released you. It was filled with dishes unsuitable for the dishwasher, such as precious mugs.

“You don’t have to do that, I was gonna wash ‘em,” Yuji said. Cleaning wasn’t his favorite activity, but he loved the idea of chores. It was domestic. Loving. Parents gave their children chores, and therefore, having them was his reminder that he was, indeed, someone’s child now.

He always helped fold laundry or took out the garbage with a smile on his face.

“I got it.” Your voice was weak. “Can you take Maya upstairs?”

Maya frowned, whining, “but mommy.”

“I promise I’ll . . .” you paused, resting your hands on the edge of the sink. Yuji watched the unsteady rise and fall of your shoulders. “I promise I’ll play with you later. We’ll sing, I’ll tuck you in, anything you could want. Just give me a minute. Please.”

“C’mon, Maya,” Yuji took the young girl’s hand, and though you couldn’t see your son’s face, he gave you a sympathetic, anxious look, silently praying that you were okay. “Let’s give mom some alone time, okay?”

They left the kitchen with much hesitation, but the alone time Yuji spoke of didn’t last long. Two minutes, to be exact.

You recognized the footsteps easily, a sound that blended in with the sink’s running water. The footsteps were soft, and they weren’t accompanied by a greeting, a sigh, a clearing of the throat, or any sort of noise that would unintentionally announce his presence.

Your quiet son joined you at the sink without a word, picking up a wet, clean dish with one hand and a drying rag with the other.

“I can do it myself, Megumi.”

“You always let me help,” Megumi paused. “You don’t have to overwork yourself. You shouldn’t be working at all if you want to feel better.”

It was true. You always let him help. Bonding with Megumi wasn’t the easiest task in the world. Unlike Yuji, who saw you and Satoru as parents and your house as his home even before you officially adopted him almost a year ago, Megumi struggled to fit in, to get used to parental love and family games and movie nights. But slowly, and quite slowly he was adjusting to being a son. Your son.

And washing dishes together was one activity you both did together regularly. It had gotten to a point where you left the dishwasher completely abandoned and void of dirty dishes that cluttered the sink all so you could prolong your time with your quiet boy.

It was a comfortable silence more often than not, but when he was in the mood to chat, he would tell you about his day. His plans for the week. How well he was recovering from his latest mission. And that little chatter? It made your day.

And he knew it.

Therefore, for you to attempt to dismiss him made him all the more worried about your health, as if he could get any more worried. After all, while Yuji was making their little sister a sandwich, he was surfing the web, googling endlessly about your symptoms.

It was pointless. All of his results ranged from a small cold to stage four cancer.

Megumi’s steady eyes trailed over your weakened frame. Your hands trembled around the dish they attempted to scrub. You blinked slowly. Along with that, your voice was so soft, he could barely hear you.

You suddenly dropped the dish into your hands. It hit the sink harder than you attended. You closed your eyes for a long period, long enough for Megumi to reach over and tap your arm.

“I’m not sick, honey. I’m going to . . .” you whispered. “I’m going to fold the laundry, cook the kitchen, and clean dinner. I mean . . . I’m gonna cook dinner and . . .”

Your words trailed off into nothing.

Megumi put down the glass plate in his hands.

Your head started to move back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Nonsensical mumblings fell from between your lips.

Your field of vision, which amounted to a blurry mess, suddenly became vast darkness. You went weak at the knees, and started to fall backwards.

“Mom!”

Your fainting spell lasted a couple of seconds in truth, but that was enough time for you to find yourself on the couch with a blanket draped over you, staring at the hazy living room ceiling with two things on your mind: the bizarre realization that you had, in fact, fainted, and the even more bizarre realization that Megumi had, in fact, — though in a panicked state — called you mom. For the very first time.

If you had the energy, you would have smiled.

But truth be told — and you tried shoving away the undeniable truth for quite a while — you barely had the energy to open your eyelids.

The only reason you fought to keep your eyes open was to show your boys that you were, indeed, conscious and alive, to hopefully, ease the muffled, panicked voices of your sons arguing right beside you, though you could hardly make out their words.

“I’m calling Dad.”

“Yuji-”

“No, no, no, I don’t care what you say-”

“If you’d let me speak for once, I was going to say that I should call Satoru, and you call an ambulance,” Megumi folded his arms across his chest, grateful that, according to Yuji, Maya was occupied with her dollhouse right now.

“This is bad. Is she gonna die? She can’t die, Megumi,” Yuji approached the couch, tears brewing in the reddened waterline of his light brown eyes. As he pulled the blanket higher until it practically touched your chin, he said, “I’m so tired of losing people. We can’t let her die.”

“Don’t call,” you mumbled.

“Mom,” Yuji sniffled.

“Don’t call.”

“You just fainted!” Yuji glanced back at Megumi who stood a little ways behind him. “Me and Megumi aren’t . . . we don’t know what to do.”

“We don’t want you to die,” Megumi brought his hand to his lips, fighting the strong urge to bite at the skin around his thumb. “I’ll make some tea.”

“Yeah, tea’s good, get her some tea! Hurry!” As Yuji spoke, he pulled out his phone and opened his dial screen.

“Yuji, please . . .” You weakly turned your head to face him.

Your boy’s hair was starting to grow longer. Time for a haircut. He also looked more pale than usual. Pale with worry, perhaps? Worry . . . worry . . . That’s right. You were worried about their school uniforms. They needed to be washed soon, by tomorrow, at least. You were worried about the groceries, or lack thereof. A run would need to be made soon. Megumi and Yuji’s favorite snacks and meals were predictable, but Maya, what would she want? Oh goodness, she was no longer a fan of sandwiches anymore. Maya . . . that’s right. You promised your sweet girl you would spend time with her, where was she? Did she truly want you, though, or were you nothing more than a substitute for her favorite person, Satoru? How was Satoru doing on his mission? He texted you earlier, but you forgot to respond. You needed to message him back. What else . . . what else was there to worry about? Oh.

No one had a proper dinner tonight. You needed to cook. And those dishes, they needed to be put away into their proper place . . . wait, just wait. You needed to wash Megumi and Yuji’s school uniforms tonight, because tomorrow, you would be too busy taking Maya to daycare. At least grocery shopping could be done afterward- damn it. No, it couldn’t. Tomorrow was Parent Day at Maya’s daycare, a day filled with bonding activities, and you’d show up, even if it killed you. You’d just have to grocery shop afterward, but those uniforms? They needed to be washed tonight . . . and dinner-

“What’re you mumbling about?” Yuji asked.

Only then did you realize your racing thoughts were trying to be vocalized. You shook your head and tried to get off of the couch, but Yuji gently gripped your shoulders and guided you back down.

“No, no, no. No moving. You need to go to the hospital. You’re so weak, and-and you can barely speak. I’m trying not to freak out.”

You didn’t have the strength to argue, but the look of despair on your face at the idea of being hospitalized was enough to make Yuji hesitate.

“I’m gonna call Dad, at least. Don’t try to stop me.”

Yuji kneeled beside the couch, watching you with worried eyes as he pressed his phone against his ear.

Satoru answered after a few rings.

“Dad? I’m pretty sure mom’s dying-” Yuji stopped speaking abruptly. “You’re already on the way home?”

—

When your eyes fluttered open again — only then did you realize they had closed — your blurry vision wasn’t attempting to focus in on the ceiling this time around. But at your husband’s black blindfold and pouty lips.

His concerned face was merely inches away from yours. His long fingers suddenly curled around his blindfold, and he pulled it down, revealing his worry-filled blue eyes and pinched brows.

Just how long had it been since Yuji called him? Did you blink, and he seemingly appeared in an instant? Or did you slip into a realm of unconsciousness for a couple of days?

What were the terms and conditions regarding his teleportation ability? Surely he couldn’t have done so all the way from . . . just where was he, again? Africa? Australia? How long had he been gone this time around, anyway? Wait a second . . . if Satoru didn’t teleport, and days have flown by, then you were falling behind! The laundry, the groceries, and Parent Day. Oh no, did you miss Parent Day? On top of breaking your promise to spend time with Maya? But no . . . it seemed like it was the same day, as if time hadn’t changed . . . and what day was that again? Sunday? Was it-

“Baby,” Satoru stroked your cheek softly as he leaned down to kiss your forehead. He knew you better than he knew himself, and that look in your exhausted eyes told him that your mind was wandering endlessly. It was no wonder you ended up in your current predicament. “Stop worrying. Try to relax that chaotic mind of yours.”

“She’s dying, right?” Yuji rubbed his face with his hand out of pure exhaustion. “Does she need to go to the hospital?”

Satoru couldn’t help but look back at Yuji and frown. When the teenager called him, his voice laced with sheer panic, Satoru’s entire world stopped. He thought he was going to lose you, the amazing woman who was his first crush, who made him blush and fumble over his words when he was a lovesick first-year, who later became his girlfriend, then his wife, and the mother of his children. Describing you as the love of his life wasn’t enough; you were his soulmate in every lifetime. He was certain of it.

But you weren’t lying on the side of the road, bleeding to death after a drunk driver swerved and slammed into you like he imagined, nor were you suffering from an incurable, terminal illness.

“She’s just dehydrated.”

Megumi and Yuji widened their eyes at Satoru’s words.

“What?” Megumi blinked.

“All this time, she’s just been thirsty?” Yuji paused. “That’s it?”

“You could put it that way, yeah. My overworked wife forgets to drink enough water to make up for the amount of work she does. This has happened before. Twice, actually. I’m not surprised her blood pressure dropped and she fainted. Poor thing’s exhausted.” Satoru rose to his feet, scooping you up in his arms. “I’m gonna take her to get some IV fluids. But don’t worry, she’ll be fine.”

Megumi sighed with relief. Yuji collapsed on the couch, tossing his arm over his eyes.

“She’ll be fine,” Yuji repeated Satoru’s words in his head. “She’ll be fine.”

“Get some rest, you two,” Satoru said to his sons, glancing back and forth between both of them. “Unless you wanna end up like your poor mom.”

And with that, Satoru left.

When a healthcare professional inserted an IV into your veins, slowly, but surely, you started to feel like yourself again, as if you were being revived. You looked at your dear husband’s face.

And it wasn’t the same look of calmness and reassurance he had around Megumi and Yuji. That brave face no longer existed. Instead, his rosy cheeks were wet with tears. Redness circled the blue of his eyes, and his white hair was a fluffy mess. He was a mess.

“Don’t scare me like that again.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. “I wasn’t trying to die of thirst, I promise.”

With a trembling hand, he reached out and ran his thumb across your knuckles, releasing a shaky sigh. After all, this was the same man who could hardly pull himself together when you had a small cold.

“Not gonna lecture me?” You said with a tired, yet small grin.

“Can’t do that,” Satoru sniffled. “This is my fault at the end of the day. If I was home, I would’ve been able to help you out, and-”

“Your work is important, Satoru,” You paused, leaning your head back against your chair. Darting your eyes to the bag responsible for injecting fluids into your vein, you said, “Don’t let something as silly as me forgetting to chug enough water get in the way.”

“Excuse me?” Satoru looked at you, baffled. As if you had suddenly slapped him. “You’re my precious, amazing, beautiful wife? The best thing that’s ever happened to me? I will always prioritize you over anything. My world stops when I hear you cough two times in a row.”

“Seems like you passed that urge to panic over my health on to our kids as well,” You smiled, then suddenly your smile grew brighter. You didn’t know it, but the sight of your grin made Satoru’s heart skip a beat, just like it often did back when he was nothing more than an awkward teenager with a crush on you.

“Speaking of our kids, guess what Megumi did?” Your eyes glistened with excitement.

“What?” Satoru smiled.

“Guess.”

“Okay, umm,” Satoru leaned back in his seat, looking up at the ceiling. “He actually told you he needed something?”

“Nope.”

“He . . . Oh, I got it, you two did the dishes together again. That always makes you happy. That’s gotta be it, right?”

“Nope!” You shook your head. “Well, we did, but that’s not what I wanted you to guess.”

“Fineee, I give up,” Satoru said.

“He called me mom.” Your joyous words were accompanied by teary eyes. “He was worried, and it just slipped out, but he did it, Satoru. Should I bring it up and tell him how much it meant to me, or should I pretend it never happened? Probably the latter, right? I don’t want him to feel embarrassed. I think I’ll cook him something special to eat, kinda as a way of acknowledging what happened and letting him know I’m grateful without actually bringing up the fact he called me mom. Do you think it’ll happen again?”

Suddenly, Satoru rose from his seat, leaned over, and planted a soft kiss against your lips.

“What was that for?” You asked though you couldn’t help but grin.

“You’re just so . . .” The words were lost- no, not lost. Mere words simply weren’t strong enough to describe you, and his mind went blank as he leaned in, giving you yet another soft kiss. “God, and you have the nerve to wonder why everyone freaks out over the idea of something bad happening to you.”

Another kiss. Then another. Each one deeper and lasting longer than the one prior.

Your husband wasn’t one to shy away from public affection, and though you were in a private urgent care room, you couldn’t help but grow nervous over the idea of getting caught.

“Cut it out, we’re in public. Have some decorum,” you mumbled when he pulled away for a brief moment, strands of his white hair tickling your head.

“Yeah, yeah, something decor, I hear you,” Satoru kissed you yet again. “One more.”

One more turned into three, but eventually, he sat back down in his own seat. There, he stayed, holding your hand, using his thumb to toy with the wedding ring on your finger.

— NEXT PART

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