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barbieaemond · 4 months

Text

Lykirī

PAIRING: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

WARNINGS: loss of virginity, fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), handjob, we ride him bitches, dom/sub tones if you squint

WORD COUNT: 8.9k

Author's note: an early Christmas gift for those who celebrate!! For those who don't, just a regular smutty piece. This was based on a request where wife!reader rides Aemond. Merry Aemondmas :)

MASTERLIST

taglist: @zae5 @multyfangirl @arcielee

"You are to marry the King's second son. Prince Aemond Targaryen."

Those were your father's words. Your sister had looked at you almost with pity and a hint of relief since that fate had befallen you and not her. You had simply nodded, accepting the fate decided by your father, just as thousands of other daughters before and after you would have done.

Your mother had come to comb your hair before going to bed, and without much ado, she had told you what would happen after the wedding, after the banquet.

"All you have to do is try to relax your nerves, and I promise it will be less painful.”

The thought had stuck in your brain until the wedding day. And the aura emanating from the prince didn't help. He was stoic to the point of looking like a statue, his posture rigid as a spindle, and there was something unsettling about him that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand when he took your hand to recite the wedding vows. Fear, but also a foreign giddiness prickling your skin upon feeling his calloused fingers around yours.

The banquet had not helped either. Prince Aegon had behaved like a court jester, drinking to the point of wondering how he could stand upright, poking his brother with cruel jokes about his eye and a whore who had made Aemond a man many years before.

You didn’t know what kind of unpleasant memories your good-brother had just summoned in his brother’s mind. That woman and her cheap perfume, that way it had clung to his skin, to his thoughts for days after his only ever trip to Flea Bottom.

Then the elder Prince had approached you with his breath stinking of Dornish and it was then that Prince Aemond broke his icy silence, standing up abruptly and looking down at you. "Come, wife. It is time for us to retire."

Prince Aegon had clapped his hands as if in front of a hilarious show, saying "Finally some fun! The bedding!"

The entire crowd present at the banquet had escorted you to the prince's chambers. The servants had removed your dress, leaving you in your underskirts; you had unconsciously covered your chest, crossing your arms to hide from the greedy eyes of the men peering in the doorway, Prince Aegon in the front row with yet another cup of wine clutched between his fingers.

Master Mellos invited you to lie down on the bed, and you obeyed, swallowing, while a host of servants shielded you from view as the Maester made his humiliating inspection.

"All is in order, your Graces," the Master informed the Prince and Queen. And that was enough for Aemond to completely slip the iron mask off his face and go straight to the door. "The show is over. Get out."

"Oh, come on, little brother. Let me watch, at least. I could give you some tips."

Aemond had towered over his brother, and from your seat on the bed, you were able to see the eldest brother shrinking by the moment. "This is not some common whore you're speaking of.” Aemond seethed “She is my wife, and you will owe her the respect she deserves. One more lewd word from your mouth, and I will rip your tongue with my bare hands. Am I being clear?”

"Gods, brother, are you already so cunt-struck?"

He never got an answer, only the door being slammed right into his face.

You stood in the middle of the room, torturing your hands as he looked at you from the door. He seemed unsure of what to do, until he cleared his throat and took a few tentative steps in the room.

“You could have some wine, if you wish. It may…help you.” He said, but as he said this, he seemed to regret his own words, given how his mouth twitched as if he had just tasted something sour. Memories could come just like that, sudden and sour.

“You must relax, my prince. Have some wine, maybe? No need to worry, I will take care of you just as a prince deserves to.”

“I’d like to keep my mind clear, my Prince.” You said, keeping your gaze down, hearing his fast and deep sigh. “Fine.” he said, straightening his back as a soldier. After all, wasn’t this just another duty?

It wasn’t just that though. You were his wife now, the future mother of his children. It was his duty and his right to claim you as his own.

“Lay on the bed.”

With your heart pounding in your ears, you did as you were told but when the mattress dipped under his weight, you did not expect to see him with his clothes still on, the eyepatch firmly in its place. More so, you did not expect the harshness of his gestures as he held your waist to turn you around. The air hitched in your throat as your face met the mattress and a strange sorrow gripped your heart. Did he not want to look at you? Did he not like you?

“Try to stay still and it’ll be over shortly.” he said. He was trying to sound reassuring, but his voice came out cold and flat. His fingers latched on your underskirts, hiking them up, filling you with embarrassment as you grow completely exposed beneath him.

Aemond knew what to do. He may not have been as depraved as his brother, but he was still a man. And once in a while, when his hands would not suffice, some maid or servant girl would’ve had to bear, quite keenly on their part, his intimate attentions.

As his hands began to glide on your thighs, you shivered and said “Wait…”

Slowly your head turned to look at him, cheeks red and breath slow and anxious. “Am I not allowed to look at you?”

Your words seemed to stun him for a moment. The mere thought of you wanting to look at him made him realize how wrong he was behaving. You were his wife, not a common whore to bend over and have his moment of bliss. He had even told Aegon. That was not his intention, but there was a gap between how he felt and how he acted, a limb severed by years of pity looks and feelings trapped in his mouth and swallowed.

Almost gently, he made you turn but once you were facing him, he pinned your wrists on the mattress, unable to touch him even if you had gathered enough courage to do it. You tried to brace yourself for what your mother had told you. But she had not told you that he would touch you there, that all your senses would go numb except for that one brand new feeling between your legs. But he seemed enthralled by it just as you, his mouth parting to let out slow puffs of air as you grow wet and swollen against his fingers.

Your breath was labored, coming out in soft pants that made your cheeks purple. More so because he kept circling his deft fingers on your core while looking straight into your eyes, reveling in the way you were answering to his call, in the way he was shaping your need, your desire.

“You never touched yourself, did you?” he asked in a husky voice.

You barely shook your head and his eye glinted with something dark as he brought his face close to yours “Good. I shall be the only one inside you.”

He swallowed your shaky breath with this mouth, kissing you for the very first time, apart from the shy, almost prude peck exchanged after the wedding vows. Your lips moved shyly, trembling with the coiling pressure between your legs. And just when you thought this heat, this delicious aching couldn’t grow more unbearable, he sticked a finger inside you, spilling a loud moan right against his mouth.

One of your wrists twisted in his harsh hold, willing to touch him, to grip on something, but he didn’t let you. “Easy…” he blew on your lips “Relax. It’ll feel good, I promise…”

It surely felt good to him, to feel the tightness of your cunt squeezing his finger. He curled it and you squinted your eyes, choking a gasp that made him smirk proudly against your jaw. “Gods, you’re so tight…” he breathed as he kept rubbing slowly against your walls.

“It’s—it’s too much—“ you cried out with pain and pleasure running together, breathing his scent of ash, leather and a hint of something minty.

“How will you take my cock if you can’t even take my finger?” He whispered with benevolent cruelty, moving his finger faster and deeper.

Certainly your mother had not told you of the obscene wet sounds you would hear, of the uncontrollable moans coming out of your mouth, of his soft growling next to your ear when his breeches became too tight.

He had lined the tip of his hard manhood to your entrance, catching your breath away as tried to still your nerves, but the pain came altogether. You felt like he was cutting you from the inside. Tears filled your eyes, squinting for the painful stretching. You knew he was restraining himself; he didn’t want to hurt you more than he already was. And you almost felt affection for him, most men would not have bothered.

Then he had started to move, you felt that stranger body rubbing over and over against your walls, and finally the pain soothed, but not completely. You could tell he was enjoying it, his ragged breath and faint moans told you so, as well as the curses hissed through his teeth in a language you guessed was Valyrian. And then he had stilled completely, gripping your hips hard and firm while you felt a hot wave pulsing through your core.

The next morning, you could barely sit down for breakfast, and your aunt had looked at you with concern and a hint of amusement in her eyes. She was a veteran at court, a long-time widow, and quite happy to be so. It was her who suggested your betrothal to the Prince.

"How are you feeling, sweet niece?"

"Awful." you said promptly, shifting your weight on the seat.

"Well, this is the kind of anguish all women must go through."

"I thought that was giving birth to another human being."

"Oh Gods, no. That is the ugly part. This is the good one," she said with a sly smile "I suggest you enjoy it as much as you can."

At the time, you didn't really understand what she meant. The first night with the prince had gone...well, you thought. But he certainly enjoyed it more than you.

The second time was better. Your muscles were still sore, but the pain was but a faint discomfort compared to the pleasure you felt for the very first time in your life.

The third time he went down on you, bringing you so close to the edge only to deny your release, with cruel enjoyment on his part, making you whine with shame at the loss of his mouth and tongue on your folds.

The fourth time he bent you down on the breakfast table, all things falling in a mess of cutlery. He had pulled up your skirts and lowered his breeches just enough to thrust in, unraveling a special spot deep inside of you that had you mewling like some primitive beast.

The fifth time he had you writhing in bed, hair stuck to your head with sweat and hands clenching the sheets while he had you peak three times in a row.

It was then that you started to think your aunt was right.

That was indeed the good part.

“Are you afraid?” he asks, with a soft taunt on the tip of his tongue. You drag your eyes away from the gigantic beast before you and almost scoff. That is enough for him to laugh, quietly, but still not quietly enough for you to not notice and wonder at the view.

It’s been merely one moon since you’ve been married to Prince Aemond, and you could count on the fingers of your hand the times you have seen him laugh. It was eerie at first, you feared all the things you heard about the One Eyed Prince were true. That he was cold as stone and just as hard. And he was. But the more you spent time together, the more you were able to make cracks, and let light through.

“I’m equally afraid as any little mortal of right mind would be in front of the largest dragon in the known world, my dear husband.”

His lips stay quirked up, but his eye widens, as it always does when you call him that. He steps close to you, a few of his long strides are enough for him to tower over you, and the ground below your feet shifts.

“Come.” He says, taking your hand, “I promise she won’t eat you.” This time you deliberately glare at him, and he raises an eyebrow. “Do you need some other kind of persuasion to trust me? Perhaps like the one I used this morning?”

The early afternoon sun makes his face almost hurting to watch, or maybe it's just his bold gloating that makes his appearance so exhausting.

“That was not persuasion.” you remark, hiding the tinge of red on your cheeks “It was coercion.”

“Hmm. You didn’t seem so hostile when I made you come twice before breakfast.”

"I was hostile to the chance of the maid assisting with what we were doing."

"The maid should know better than to enter while my wife is undressing."

His eye roams over you just as he had done that morning, hunger clouding it, making your insides shrink. "Perhaps it's best if she knew. Someone must be aware of how cruel my husband is." there's a soft tease in your tone—something you are still learning, but true nonetheless.

He had ripped your nightgown with his bare hands when the maid entered to help you dress. She fled hastily, but you barely spared a glance at her, already lost to the fierce claim of his hand between your legs. He had taken you, twice, and then ordered you to dress, forcing you to have breakfast with the Queen and the Princess with your thighs still sticky with sex, sticky with him.

And he had been there, sitting just in front of you, with a piercing and delighted gaze.

He pulls your hand, and you follow, getting closer to that living relic that is Vhagar, Queen of All Dragons. She raises her monstrous head and looks straight at you with her amber eyes.

It is the first time you step so close to her, and even if you thought about it a lot, your heart is pounding fast, and your breath comes out slow and labored. She's a dreadful wonder.

She flares her nostrils and smells you, making a low rumble which results in a gust of hot wind that ruffles your hair and skirts.

“Lykirī, Vhagar.” Aemond says quietly “Issa ñuha ābrazȳrys. Kostā pāsagon zirȳla.”

You look at him questioningly, and he answers. “I told her you are my wife. And she can trust you.”

You cast a curious look at the dragon and then back at him “Is that all it takes? You tell dragons to trust you, and they resist the urge to turn you into their meal?”

Aemond curves his lips and makes you step closer, standing behind you and guiding your hand on the old green scales. “It takes much more than that.” he whispers in your ear “You have to surrender to them, completely. A dragon is no slave.”

You feel the heat beneath your palm, but it’s not that that makes you swallow; it’s the heat of his breath on your neck, right into your ear, scorching his way into your brain and inflaming every thought.

“What does Lykirī mean?” you ask, and you hate how your voice cracks on the edges.

He smirks because he knows, he always does. But he does not answer. Instead, he pulls your hand again, and you follow, circling the beast until stopping before the intricate ropes that lead to the saddle.

“Aemond, I don’t think—”

“You are my wife and you will ride with me on dragon back.” He said, commanding.

Truthfully, you gladly want to obey; there is just a slight difference between picturing riding a dragon and doing it.

Even the climbing to get in the saddle is a challenge on its own, but he helps you until you firmly seat yourself in it. Aemond sits behind you, and you look around with widened eyes, as if you are looking down from the highest tower ever built, except this is a living one, made of fire and breathing fire.

He leans over you to grab the reins, and you tense, waiting with bathed breath.

“Dohaeras, Vhagar. Soves!”

She lets out a loud screech that makes your ears hurt, but you have no time to even register it because she's already moving. You grip Aemond’s arms and brace yourself against his chest when Vhagar lurches onward and opens her huge wings to take flight.

She goes up and up, above the clouds, and your head is dizzy, with fear, with euphoria, until you are laughing like a child, like you never did in your entire life. Aemond lets go of the reins and laces his arms around you, angling his head to look at you, his silver hair violently ruffled by the wind. “How does it feel, my sweet wife?”

There are no common words to describe it. Now you know why they say Targaryens are closer to Gods than men. No man could claim a dragon or rule the skies.

“I feel like I’m close to the Gods.” you say, and he tightens the hold on you “Dragons do not answer to Gods.” he says, burying his nose in your hair “Where does this leave us?”

You turn your head to look at him, and you feel like you are looking at one of them. And yet he looks like he’s beyond any God.

“Above them. Above the Gods.”

“Hmm.” He croons, breathing your scent through his nose, and then his right hand grabs your skirt and dips underneath, until you feel his cold fingers grazing your skin. “I will make you feel like one.”

He cups your core through your small clothes, and you whimper, gripping his arm harder. He feels your heat through his palm, hotter than Vhagar’s own fire, and he sets the fabric aside to properly touch you. “My sweet wife.” he whispers, sliding a finger between your folds “Always so ready for me.”

“Aemond.” You say, holding your breath, trying to oppose but your voice cracks, and your body with it, already answering to his call. You see clouds before your eyes, but it’s all a blur, all your senses are enslaved by his touch, rubbing lazy circles on your bud. Too slow for your liking, for your need. Your hips arch and buck, chasing his hand for more friction, and he laughs, darkly. “What is it? What do you need, sweet girl? Tell me.”

He takes your chin with his free hand and forces you to turn your head and look at him. His hold is ruthless, but his tone is almost pleading. “Tell me.” he orders and you feel like he’s smothering you, sweeping away all the air from your lungs. “I-I need more…”

“More of what?” he asks, stopping altogether. “Show me.”

You look him in the eye and swallow, heat inflaming your cheeks, but there’s no place for shame, not here. It is just a faint ghost passing through you, and then it’s gone. Your hand pulls the gown up, and you place it on his, like a feather. “Here.” You breathe on his mouth “Inside.”

The howling wind does nothing to muffle his growl, and then he’s kissing you, harshly, teeth clashing and biting your lips as he accepts your plea, sliding a finger inside of you.

A strangled moan escapes you, and he swallows it, darting his tongue in every corner of your mouth. He releases your chin only to grab your leg to further open them and then he adds a second finger, moving them deftly until reaching that special spot. Your head falls back on his shoulder, gasping loudly, digging your nails into his hand.

Your breath is ragged and fast, and you uselessly try to stifle moan after moan even if there are only the skies to hear.

“Don’t.” he says grazing your lobe with his teeth “I want to hear you. I want you to scream for me.”

Your mind goes blank, as does all your restraint. You feel the tide coming to crash you, hips moving on their own accord, chasing and chasing. And then you’re drowning in it, mouth falling open and flesh and bones clenching and trembling.

He grunts softly when your nails scratch his skin and his fingers slip out, glistening; he raises them to his lips and tastes every drop of you. Still panting, he takes your chin once more with his sticky fingers and licks your lips, so you taste yourself on his tongue.

Your head is still dizzy when Vhagar lands in a clearing in the King’s Wood, but this has nothing to do with altitude. Your limbs are heavy when he helps you dismount, your legs buckle. There is a tautness knotting your bones, itching your fingertips.

You wish to touch him, because you have never, not as a wife would touch her husband, not as he has done with you.

It is only a moon and yet he has taken you almost every night and every day. He has touched you everywhere, he has molded you to his liking, and you let him do it with giddiness, undoing yourself like clay in his hands. He had put his mouth on you, and you have discovered he particularly enjoyed it, because he has done that at the most inopportune times, even in some dark corner of the corridors.

And you wondered if you could do the same with him—not because you have to, but because you want to. You want to claim him just as he claims you, relentlessly.

And he really is. He is relentless, he doesn't give you the time to wander with your hands, to discover, to touch. Fire burns him quickly and you are ashes before you realise you are burning with him.

“I didn’t know my wife had claws.” He says at one point, while you are going back to the Keep.

You wake from your thoughts and turn, watching him raise his hand to show the red marks on the back of his hand, and the sight makes you almost proud—proud to have left a mark of you on him. But you want more, and he wants more. You know it; it takes a brief look at his breeches to know that he wants more.

You dart your eyes around, but there's no one. So, you stop. Trying to gather all the boldness you never had, you step closer to him and take his hand in yours. Your eyes look up slowly, glinting with uncertainty and bravery. "Then let me soothe your pain, husband."

Aemond’s eye widens, and the air around you turn heavy, forcing you to open your mouth to breathe. You take one more step and bring the back of his hand to your lips, kissing it gently while your eyes stay fixed on his face. The other hand goes tentatively to his chest and then slides down, and for once, just once, he’s the one answering your call. His eye darkens and his lips part when your hands bashfully grab the laces of his breeches.

But you should have known better. Targaryens and their desires. Doomed to take whatever they want, whenever they want, answering neither Gods nor men.

You barely blink and he grabs you by the wrists and forces you to the ground. Cold grass and bushes stinging your back make you gasp, but Aemond is already on you, watching you like a century-long thirsted man who takes a glimpse of a water spring, as if you could evaporate from his sight at any moment.

“Aemond, please.” you beg “let me—“

But his tongue is in your mouth, hot and scorching you alive. Your eyes flutter shut, and he hikes your skirts up, taking hold of your hips. You feel his bulge against you, hard and ready, and you can do nothing else than wait, pinned down like prey, all bravery a distant memory.

Suddenly he lowers himself down, lifting your skirts with haste until you’re completely bare half down. “No—Aemond, please I want to—”

“You want what?” he asks with a wolfish grin “Deny me your sweet taste? Iksā ñuhon, ābrazȳrys.” He said that already, you know what it means. You are mine.

“You belong to me. And this…” he swears placing your legs on his shoulders while looking at your aching core as a man who found the greatest treasure in the world. “This belongs to me as well.”

He runs his tongue up and down your wet folds, humming with delight as he tastes you and sees you squirm, arching your back on the stingy bushes. You moan loudly when he slowly swirls his tongue, not able to keep track of your hips starting to move on their own, thrusting into his mouth and the sight of you like this, makes him even wilder, pushing him to open his mouth and put it entirely on your cunt, sucking harshly until anything before your eyes becomes blurred.

Your legs on his shoulders begin to shake and curl, caging him further against you, but just when you are about to come straight into his mouth, he pulls back. A weak sob leaves your mouth as your hips keep bucking against nothing and he smirks at that, untangling your legs from his shoulders, running his tongue over his lips, to taste what's left of you on him. You look at him through dazed eyes and a tinge of annoyance for the denied release. “What?” he has the boldness to ask with a sly smirk “Did you not enjoy it?” he runs his thumb on his glistening chin and swiftly licks it. "Hmm. I most certainly did."

“Aemond, please.” you claw desperately at his shoulders and forearms, forcing him to lie on you, feel something that could soothe the aching between your legs. He seems keen to grant you this mercy, molding his crotch against you so you can feel how hard and desperate he is.

“Please.” you beg in a thin voice.

“Speak it plainly, my love. I want to hear it from your pretty mouth.”

You look at him straight in the eye and what you say next is not a request nor a plea. Your mother would be ashamed of you, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

You are not begging. You are demanding. “Fuck me.”

He doesn’t need more than a few moments to get his cock out of his breeches, and not a moment later he’s pushing inside of you, your back arching on the bushes and your throat fighting for breath. He groans and starts a relentless pace, lifting his weight from you just enough for him to look at his cock going in and out, the sight only pushing him to thrust harder and harder. “Look at you.” he croons, sweet and rough “You were born to take me, to be mine.”

Your face twists with pleasure, teeth biting your lower lip while he takes you higher and higher, higher than any sky a dragon could ever take you.

He soon becomes messy and sloppy, cursing under his breath, but you can barely hear him. Your mind is sluggish and everything comes muffled: him, the birds chirping on some tree, your wet flesh slapping against his in the lewdest and most blessed way.

He curses some more, and then he’s spilling inside you, his arched mouth opening and his eye closing like a man absolved.

And yet, he does not stop. He has not claimed enough.

“Māzis, dōna ābrazȳrys. Come for me.”

Your hand clutches something on the ground, something with thorns that pierces your skin with pain, but you can’t even feel that, because you are falling, legs trembling around him, and heart stopping for an endless moment of pure breathtaking bliss.

“Gevie.” he coos with his lips on yours, falling with his body on you, still clenching and pulsing around him. He stays right where he is, nesting inside of you, and now it is the only chance you have been granted to touch him. You put an arm around his shoulders, catching your breath, and look at the skies above, thinking you are indeed above them.

It was easy to explain the dirt and grass stains on your dress. It was a little less easy to explain the twigs in your ruffled hair when you and Aemond returned to the Keep only to meet the Queen Mother along one of the corridors. Alicent merely smiled at you with a tight smile and did not spare from giving a look full of daggers to her son.

"Seven Hells" you mutter when you go back to your rooms and catch a glimpse of the mess you are in the mirror.

Aemond stays on the threshold to close the door and grins, or rather, gloats.

You step out of your muddy shoes and start to pull the laces of your dress.

"What are you doing?" he asks, and you playfully glare at him. "Am I allowed to take a bath now? Or do you want me to go around all sullied? I fear there are no believable excuses for the state I’m in."

"You can tell them the truth." he says, walking to you and replacing your hands with his to help you pull the intricate laces.

You smile softly with your back turned before raising an eyebrow, asking "Which is?"

He keeps his eye focused on the dress, a slight furrow in his brow, and stoically serious, he says "That your husband fucked you in the King's Wood."

"I could tell the maid. I'm sure she won't be stunned after what she saw this morning."

He makes you turn so you can look at him, and the sight before you makes your heart sing. His eye roams on your face softly, a rare sight on him, always stoic, always sharp, like all the angles composing this beautiful sculpture of black glass.

You always thought of marriage as a strategic deal for men, and a way for women to prove their value to the world, giving those same men sons and daughters. But you care for him. And he cares for you. That look on his face is enough for you to know that he cares for you, not merely as a brood mare.

“Gevie.” he says, quietly, and he touches your cheek, softly, making you wonder how those same hands can be so delicate and yet so merciless at the same time.

“What does it mean?” you ask, even if you are sure he will not answer. You observed that when he speaks in High Valyrian he does it almost to himself, as if to protect something he does not wish the others to know.

But this time, he meets your eyes and lowers his hand. “Beautiful.”

You look at him with your heart pounding in your throat, and then you stand up on your toes, crashing your mouth against his, almost catching him by surprise. But he is all too deft at turning the game on his side, and a few seconds later, his hands are gripping your hips and his tongue is licking the roof of your mouth.

When the door suddenly opens, you pull back, spotting the same maid from that morning who, this time, can do nothing but suffer the Prince's wrath.

"Can't you just fuck off for once?!"

You hold back a laugh against his chest and the poor maid flees in a hurry. But when he pulls you to him, tilting his head to pick up where he left off, you step back and say, "I'm afraid the Queen has requested your presence. You should go, my dear husband. I promise that by tonight I will be completely clean."

"Tonight?" he asks, raising his eyebrow. "What is happening tonight?"

You shrug your shoulders and hold back a smile. "Innocence doesn't suit you, my Prince."

"Neither does you."

"I'm afraid this is your fault. You are sullying my soul as well as...everything else."

"You won't be of the same mind when you have my child growing in your womb," and he smirks, looking at you as if he's taking a sacred oath, and then walks away.

You finally manage to take a bath and change clothes, and then you go to visit your aunt. She spends most of her time alone, sipping tea in the gardens, partly because she can't stand the other court ladies, partly because the court ladies can't stand her. Truthfully, you cannot blame them, your aunt speaks plainly—too plainly at times.

You sit down with her for tea, which you end up swallowing like salt, because your aunt takes it with a whole squeezed lemon, and no sugar.

"I saw you with your husband earlier. I may be too old for new fashion but mud on your skirt and twigs in your hair seem a bit too brazen, even for me."

You stifle a smile, recalling what happened. If only she knew he was brazen enough to have you utterly undone on dragon back, thousands of feet up.

Your eyes go distant while you fumble with some tablecloth threads, but your Aunt stares at you piercely, and grabbing her cup of tea she says "I love that look on you."

"What?"

She sips the sour liquid and puts the cup down. "That look. The I'm in love look."

"I am not!" you counter, cheeks going red.

"Of course you are. I've watched you two. I dare say he's falling way faster than you."

You look at her puzzled. Many things have changed in a moon. And you are sure you are utterly infatuated with him. But you did not know what to think of what he actually feels for you, if he even feels something. You know he cares for you, you know he loves spending time with you. You know he's passionate, possessive, almost soft at rare times. But in love? That seems too soon to consider, or to hope for.

"It is too soon to talk about love."

"In fact, I did not, my sweet niece. Falling in love and love are beasts of different species. Why do you think we say "falling"? You can't stop from falling. To love a person is an entirely different matter. Love is a choice."

You let those words sink but you prefer not to question your heart right now. There is a reason you have come here to talk to your aunt, even if you don't know how to address the matter without melting from embarrassment.

But in the end, who could you ask for advice? Your squeamish maids? The Queen Mother? Definitely not.

"Listen, I...I wanted to ask you something..." you start "It is uhm...a matter of somewhat intimate nature."

"Ah, my favourites." your aunt says, beaming "I am all ears."

You shift uncomfortably in your chair and swallow another sip of that dreadful tea "My mother...she explained to me what would happen between husband and wife to...consummate the marriage. But she didn't tell me...well, everything else."

Your Aunt is quick to raise her eyebrow "I gathered that your marriage had been consummated by now. Thoroughly."

"Y-yes, of course. But I...discovered...that there are other ways for a husband to please his wife...and I was wondering if...if I could…do those same things to please him."

Your aunt looks utterly puzzled for a long moment, and then, almost stunned, she says "Oh Seven Hells, child. You are telling me you never sucked your husband off?"

A few court ladies walking near turned their heads, going white as sheets, while you, on the contrary, take a nice purple shade.

"Oh, don't look at me like that, prissies. We all did it eventually." she dismisses them, waving a lazy hand, and looks back at you. "You should do it, if you wish. Men love it. Your uncle used to ask—"

"I don't want to hear that, auntie, I'm begging you." you say squinting your eyes.

"Listen to me, child. Men love to think they rule everything, everywhere. But it is not always like that. And if you want to rule your husband's heart, you must rule in his bed first."

That evening, Aemond wanted nothing more than to lock himself in his room with his wife and forget all the hateful political talk he had had to endure at dinner.

You had not attended, and that had bothered him. Never would he have thought of marriage as anything more than a duty, yet there he was, wondering where you were, who you were with, and why you weren't in his rooms when he set foot in there.

"Where is my wife?" he asks the maid, and she keeps her eyes glued to the floor, saying "The princess spent the evening in the library, your Grace. She told me that she would be—"

"I am here," you say, appearing behind the young maid.

You see his chest sag as if a weight is leaving him, and he casts an icy glance at the poor maid "Out."

He is rarely kind to servants, but you can tell by his tense shoulders that something is wrong.

"Aemond, what is the matter?" you ask as soon as the door closes, walking up to him with a hand behind your back.

"Where were you? Why weren't you at dinner?"

"I was in the library."

"For four hours?"

"It was a tough read—"

He grabs your arm, gripping hour wrist harshly, and you flinch. "Aemond, I swear to you.” you say watching his eye on fire and a sneer twisting his mouth “You can ask Maester Mellos."

Suddenly he lets you go, and looks down, closing his eye for a moment. But he doesn't apologize, he never does, and not because he is a Prince. It's just the way he is. He doesn't apologize, he doesn't say thank you, he doesn't say please.

"Aemond, what's going on?"

"I don't want to talk about it now. In fact, never. Not here."

You watch him carefully, and you nod as he moves to pour wine into a cup. You watch him gobble it up greedily, which is unlike him. So, you get close and move your hand from behind your back and say, "Anyway, I wasn't lying. I really spent four hours in the library...trying to decipher this."

You show him an old book, and the title catches his eye, cup held in midair. "Tales of the Dragonlords?" he asks frowning. "This is in High Valyrian."

"It is." you confirm as you move closer, and you steal his cup before saying, "Would you read it to me?" and you take a sip, of wine and courage.

He watches the liquid flow down your throat and then accepts the invitation, taking the book—the one he has read so many times he can recite it by heart. He opens it to the first page, but you say "No. Page 72."

There is a slight imperative tone in your tone of voice, and it thrills him, given how his eye glints under the candlelight. He drops it on the table, looking at you from head to toe, and says, "I'll read it to you later, sweet wife."

He steps closer but you back away saying, "Fine, then. I'll tell you what I understood so you can correct me or not." and at the same moment your own hands go up on your corset and you start pulling on the laces.

The gesture catches his eye like a moth to a flame and he stays silent as you pull all the laces and then slip off your dress, remaining in your underskirt. His gaze roams over you slowly, and with a soft smirk, he decides to play the game.

“Page 72, you said. How Dragonlords claimed Dragons.”

“Yes.”

"And why did it capture your interest? Do you wish to do it? Do you wish to claim a dragon?"

"I wish to conquer, not claim."

He comes closer and looks at you, breathing through his nose, restraining, always restraining, and then he's raising his hand to reach a lock of your hair falling on your shoulder, but you stop him, air as heavy as moss.

"The Valyrian sages say a dragonlord must surrender himself completely to the dragon. But it works both ways. The dragon must submit his will to their rider."

He looks at you without blinking, and you take his arms, guiding him closer until you turn and push him lightly on the bed. He sits and you slowly climb on his lap, knees caging his hips, heart is pounding in your throat like a hammer. You hear him taking a swift breath and pride pools in your bones because for once you have caught him off guard.

You can feel his crotch hardening by the moment, but the look on his face is not one of hunger or lust. It is pure and blessed devotion.

You wonder at the view, and your eyes roam on his face until...

"Can I take it off?"

There's no need to say what. His face goes hard as stone, eye looking away with discomfort, with shame.

"Please, Aemond." you whisper. "I want to see all of you. I want you to bare yourself to me as I did to you."

"It is not pleasant."

"I don't want pleasantness. I want you."

He stares at you for an eternal moment and then he caves.

A flash of sparkling blue catches you completely and you can do nothing but watch with lips parted, while he keeps his eye down.

You wrap an arm around his shoulders and lean your head against his to breathe one single word in his ear. "Gevie."

His arms are all around you, holding you so tight you might gasp for air. Instead you are smiling, breathing through his long silver hair. You are not sure if you aunt is right, if love is indeed a choice. You can't bring yourself to care because you are doing it already.

And then he's kissing you, seizing your tongue with his in a fierce consuming way. He slightly hikes up your hips, and his hand tries to slide between your legs, but you lace your fingers around his wrist, breaking the kiss with panted breath.

"No." you whisper, and he looks at you almost questioningly, mouth open and chest heaving.

"Lykirī."

His eye widens and you smile, secretly. "I know what it means now."

He smirks at this and does not miss the chance to be the ever diligent scholar. "But you said it wrong. The R is hard."

“Lykirī.” You say again, following his lesson, and in the same moment your hand leaves his wrist and goes down to his breeches. He dips his chin to look at it, at your hands unsure, and he too looks unsure.

“You don’t have to—“

“I want to.” You say, and your voice comes out firm and clear. “Please, Aemond. Let me…let me touch you.”

He realizes now that in all the times you have been lying together, you never managed to lay a hand on him. He likes to keep people at distance. Too many wrong hands have been on him. The Maesters’, inspecting, debating, healing without healing. That whore, taking what it was not hers to take, not yet.

But he wants you to touch him. He has dreamed of it, in any way a man could dream of a woman’s touch.

He looks at you for a moment, chest rising slowly, and then, without taking his eye off you, he pulls the laces of his breeches and guides your hand around his cock. You look down, exhaling a long breath at feeling his hard and hot flesh already pulsing.

He knows you don’t know how to do it, so his hands guide you at first, going slowly up and down, and the air comes out of his mouth slowly and labored. You look up at him, his eye is pitch black, lid growing heavy with pleasure, and your core clenches, desire pools in your belly and flows down.

He must hear the call of your body, because he releases your hand, still stroking him, and goes right between your legs. You gasp loudly, and he hums, delight dripping from his voice just as you are dripping on his fingers. He starts to pump his fingers and you can do nothing but moan, clutching his shoulders with your free hand, the other still around his cock, but the act is growing lazy, your mind can’t focus properly on what you are supposed to do.

“Listen.” he orders you, fingers moving faster and faster, and you do listen. Your soaked flesh coming undone at his scorching touch. “Who else has you like this?”

But this is a question he’s asking himself. Because no one else will ever have him bare like this.

“You. Just you.” you say hoarsely, eyes closing and hips rocking on their own accord.

“And who am I?” he whispers just as hoarsely, and yet his voice is like a whip on all your senses.

“My husband.” you cry, feeling the wave ready to drown you “Ñuha zaldrīzes.” My dragon.

You cannot care less about how you said it, because then your mouth falls open, nails digging into his shoulder while your trembling hips keep riding his fingers, clenching them like a vice.

Your head falls onward, leaning against his forehead, and you try to catch your breath. You watch his wet fingers go straight into his mouth while he looks at you, humming with pleasure. “You look so pretty like this.” he says with the ghost of a smile on his lips “I should fuck you in Throne Room with the whole court watching, so they know how pretty you are when you come for me.”

You laugh with your cheeks flushing, and he slides an arm around you, and you know he wants to pin you down on the bed and fuck you until you are muffling nonsense in the pillow. But this is not his game. This is yours, and even if you don’t know how to play, you will win.

“No.” you say, climbing down from his lap, and he looks at you with hunger and a tinge of thrilling curiosity. “It is my turn to claim.” You say with all the bravery you possess.

Not a moment later, you are going down on your knees.

Another small victory, because his eye widens as he had never done before, and you can see that this, the sight of you on your knees before him, is something he has been craving for, even dreamed of it.

His breathing is slow, and you are not even touching him.

You place yourself between his knees and you lean closer and closer, anxiety twisting your insides, but you want to do this. “Lykirī, nuha zaldrīzes. Surrender.” you take him into your hand, tugging slowly, and your lips linger on the tip, heart pounding in your ears and eyes fixed on him. “Lykirī.” You say one last time and then you are swallowing him.

He hisses loudly and his lips part, hands clutching the covers until his knuckles go white. He’s like burning metal inside your mouth—hot and hard. At first, you just taste him, running your tongue over the head, and he’s cursing under his breath. His hands twitch on the covers, restraining and restraining, but there’s no need. You take his hand while looking at him and you release it from your mouth to say “Teach me.”

It’s like you have just poured fire on more fire. His eye goes wild, he takes hold of your head and starts to guide you again, making your mouth engulf him once more and deep down to the base and then up to the tip again, filling the room with a wet gagging sound. You get the gist of what you’re supposed to do, so your head starts going up and down and up and down, and he actually moans for you, head falling back for just a moment before looking back, he can’t help but watch as you fiercely claim him.

You watch his chest heaving fast and your jaw is starting to hurt but you don't care, you are too absorbed by the view before you. You are too thrilled by the fact that, for once, you have made him speechless.

He's always so bold in the bedroom, so cruel in deciding when and how to give pleasure, and now he's utterly speechless. He can only curse without breath, and gasp and groan.

“Kelītīs.” he manages to say at one point, voice all husky and cracking. You don’t know that word, and you have no time to ask because in a blink, he’s slamming you onto the bed and he’s hiking up your skirt, but you get on your elbows pushing him on his back and climbing on him.

“I’m not done, valzȳrys.” you say feeling his hard length inflaming your core, so you lay your hips on it as firmly as possible. “I claimed, but I did not conquer.”

“You are fucking torturing me.” he points out, bucking against you.

“Conquests could last for centuries, dear husband. You above all should know that.”

“All I know now is that I need to fuck you.” he says placing both hands on the sheets to pull himself up.

“No, I will.” you promise, rocking your hips once more “This is my conquest, not yours.”

You keep rubbing your drenched core on his length until a sheen of sweat glistens on his forehead, and he's so hard he's leaking from the tip. "You are twisted, wife." he says with a dazed tone and you smile even if you can't take it anymore, but you rock some more, saying "I'm a quick study. And I'm learning from the best."

Finally, when you are so wet you are dripping on him, you raise just enough to slide his cock inside of you.

You gasp together and you brace on his shoulders to start moving. You both know you are not going to last long, so you start rocking your hips slowly, taking him to the hilt until you struggle for air.

“Move…” he orders but you just take the opposite road, slowing your hips in a delicious torturing way. “Do you know what else the Sages said? A rider must know their mount, feel their heat below them.”

But Aemond does not have a single drop of blood in his head right now to give you an answer, let alone play your game; he's just fire that burns and burns and burns and just like the Sages said, you can feel his heat, burning below and inside you. He grips your hips and starts to thrust inside you like the wild beast you are supposedly claiming, until you are moaning so loud your throat hurts.

“Yes—” he growls as you bounce on him “Just like that—you’re gripping me so well—fuck"

You both turn sloppy, a mess of sweaty limbs and teeth biting, clutching at each other with bruising grips, pulling at the roots of his hair when you’re about to fall from the highest sky.

"Come on, my sweet girl. Let go for me." he breathes into your mouth, forcing you to move even faster "Let go fro your dragon. Seal your conquest." And you do.

He follows right after, spilling inside while digging his teeth into your neck like fangs on a prey, muffling his loud groaning.

And you are smiling like a fool, a lovestruck fool, but most of all, a conqueror.

Thank you so much for reading!! 💞💞

#likiri #liv(in la vida loca)#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond x wife reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x wife reader #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x you #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond fic #aemond smut #hotd fic

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messrmoonyy · 1 month

Text

- The gilded cage

Arthur Morgan x Fem!reader

Request- how about some of the girls going along to the mayors party in Saint Denis. Have you seen the cut content of Molly when she was meant to be at the party? So Dutch takes Molly along, Arthur takes reader? And what if Arthur gets a a little jealous of reader mingling and then they sneak away for some smutty time together…

A/N- this is my first Arthur fic so he may be a lil out of character whilst I get to grips with writing him. I also have not written straight smut in like 2 years. But we vibe. Enjoy

Also shoutout to @devnmon for supporting and enabling my rdr2 brainrot. You’re a real one

Warnings- 18+ | smut: unprotected p in v, semi public sex ( wc - 7.7k )

Masterlist / AO3

Saint Denis was a little too rich for your blood. You’d only ventured into the city a handful of times, but the times you had you’d decided you didn’t really like it. You felt too… common. You never had liked the wealthy, flaunting their security and safety that was wrapped up in dollars and gold.

But. You loved money. God did you love money. And as much as you hated the residents of the city, you sure loved robbing them blind. You always had had a knack for making the rich mysteriously lose their dollars and their watches, it had been the sole reason you’d ended up in Dutch’s gang in the first place.

You’d even tried picking his pockets at first.

But you were on best behaviour tonight. Under Dutch’s orders. And you figured as boring as that sounded, you’d oblige. Simply because the men rarely let the girls get involved with any of the interesting stuff in camp. There was only so much laundry you could do before your brain truly went numb from boredom. Only so much listening to Miss Grimshaw nagging at you to do some work or Micah antagonising someone over something stupid.

So even with Dutch’s strict orders to behave and your dislike of the city, you had jumped at the chance to come along to the party.

“ i can practically smell the money “ you sighed as you took Arthur’s hand to step down from the coach, already hearing the bustle of the party happening somewhere out the back of the mansion in front of you “ you sure I can’t go pickin? Just a lil “ you were half joking, half not. On the times you had wandered into the city, the stuff you’d gathered picking your way around the saloons and back alleys had been a decent haul. The stuff some of these people carried around on the average day was enough to fund the food for the whole of camp for a couple days or more.

Who knew what kind of goodies they’d have on them in their finery.

“ no miss “ Dutch’s stern voice sounded, but he was sporting a small look of amusement “ keep those talented hands of yours to yourself. This is about business. We steal nothing. That goes for all of you. Steal. Nothing. Unless it’s information “

“ don’t worry. I’ll keep her in check “ Arthur spoke with a small chuckle, placing a hand lightly to your back.

“ this is why we shouldn’t have brought the women. They always cause trouble “ Bill complained, as he stepped out of the second coach with Hosea, making you scowl.

“ I hope you aren’t grouping me into that Mr Williamson “ Molly piped up with a disapproving scowl of her own as she stepped out of the coach, seemingly more mad at Dutch for not helping her out more than at Bill though. Arthur offered her his hand instead, helping her step onto the path without breaking her neck in her extravagant dress.

Always the gentleman.

She looked wonderful and you had begun to wonder if she had owned that dress all along or had gone out and got it special. Maybe Dutch had picked it up for her. It wouldn’t surprise you if she had been lugging it around from place to place, waiting for some perfect moment to pull it out. She always did look more put together than the majority of camp. Though you really didn’t understand how she could walk in the dress she was currently wearing, skirts full and you guessed pretty heavy too.

“ no need to bring you “ Bill continued.

“ I ain’t even causin’ trouble “ you piped in, throwing your own scowl Bills way again “ When did you last contribute to the box anyways huh Bill? I don’t see you doin’ nothin’ but sit around all damn day. No need to bring you I say. Jus’ cause you ain’t got no lady on your arm you’re complainin’ bout me and Molly “

“ what? A lady like you? I should be damn lucky I ain’t “

“ why you- “

“ Bill I suggest you leave it “ Arthur murmured lowly, planting himself between you and Bill before you did in fact cause some trouble. Bill grumbled something, spitting on the floor with a look of disgust and turning away from you.

Dutch sighed heavily, looking increasingly pissed off at the group in front of him and held his arm out to Molly.

“ Miss O’Shea “ It pained you a little to know he was probably only being nice to her tonight for appearances sake. He’d been practically ignoring her recently. And wasn’t doing Molly any good. You hoped a night out of camp would do her well “ now would you all just calm. Down. We, are simple distinguished gentleman, here for business. So start damn acting like it “ you scoffed at that, making a pointed look in Bills direction as you did

“ distinguished my ass “

“ play nice now “ Arthur said quietly, but you heard the smile in his tone as he did. He then offered you his arm as Dutch had done to Molly. But unlike Dutch the act didn’t feel performative, a way to blend in and appear far higher class than they actually were. Arthur actually was a gentleman. For the most part anyways.

“ why thank you mister “ you said in a cheery tone, throwing him a coy smile and slipping your gloved hands into the crook of his elbow.

It did feel a little funny to be walking beside him like that. All dressed up and in clothes that weren’t smeared with gun oil, dust or god knows what else. It made your mind drift a little to what life could’ve been like.

Your group crossed the street, promptly being stopped at the gates

“ gentleman “ the guard greeted, taking the invitation from Dutch’s hands “ the mayor doesn’t allow guns at official functions “ the way he looked at Dutch and the others was almost demeaning. Like he knew you were all riff raff and of course would be the sort to attend such an event armed “ Not after last years incident “ none of the boys seemed particularly thrilled to be handing over their firearms. Arthur in particular sighed heavily beside you as he handed his pistol over.

He didn’t like being unarmed. Especially when he was out with you. You usually also had your gun belt permanently fixed at your waist. But it wasn’t exactly fitting with your current attire.

Though you did note the guards didn’t even spare a glance to you or Molly, which in turn made you all the more smug knowing you had your knife tucked into your boot. Just in case of course.

“ Luca here will take you gentleman to Mr Bronte. I believe he is expecting you “

“ I know you got that knife in yer boot “ Arthur said lowly so that no one else would hear.

“ he ain’t said anythin’ about knifes. Only guns “ Arthur smiled and shook his head slightly, placing his hand over yours for a moment.

“ that’s my girl “

You walked up the neat cobbled path to the mayors house then, unable to do anything but look in awe at the huge house in front of you. You’d thought Shady Belle was something spectacular, had walked around every room imagining what it had looked like in all its glory. Amazed at the vastness of the place and all the rooms it had.

And yet it was nothing compared to this place. This was real money.

“ I look okay? “ you asked, suddenly feeling ever so slightly nervous, smoothing your hand over your skirts. Even in your attempts to look as clean and put together as you did, some part of you felt like everyone would see you were a walking sham.

All in all you knew you probably did look fine. The dress was the most lavish thing you’d ever owned, you didn’t even want to guess how much it had cost Arthur. It was still on the simpler side, skirts not quite as full as Mollys and not as detailed. But it was beautiful. Pale pink and ruffled shoulders and details on your skirts, gloves up to your elbows in a material so soft you’d sighed when you’d first pulled them on.

It all made a nice change from the usual simple clothes you wore, hips weighted by skirts rather than your gun belt. And skirts that didn’t have a million holes darned over.

And Arthur had picked it all out. Had picked it himself especially for you.

It did make you smile to imagine him in the tailors, completely out of his depth when it came to women’s fashion but determined to find you something nice. Your big, tough cowboy staring blankly at fabric swatches and fancy hats.

“ gonna be the prettiest girl here “ you smiled warmly at his words, hand smoothing over your dress again.

He’d turned up that morning into your shared room of shady Belle, finding you hiding away from Miss Grimshaw on the balcony, the dress draped over his arm along with some fancy suit and tie get up for himself. He’d looked almost sheepish as he’d shown you it, promising to go get you something else if you hated it. Which of course you hadn’t.

You’d practically jumped with joy at being able to go out on a job. The boys so rarely let the girls do anything meaningful other than tend to camp. Though this particular outing you knew Dutch had only brought you and Molly along because it would make your group seem a little more agreeable. Something about women making them look a little less intimidating. And of course Dutch and Arthur’s partners were the most obvious of choices.

Much to Mary-Beth and Karen’s dismay. Though they had very quickly changed their mind at the idea of having to hang off Bills arm all night.

It wasn’t exactly the reason you wanted to be brought along. But you took it.

The inside of the mansion was as glorious as the outside, it almost made you angry that people had such wealth. That these people could sleep in a new room each night of the week if they felt like it, when people were starving outside of their gates.

“ Hosea, Bill. Take the ladies out and enjoy the party. We’ll join you after we pay our respects to signor Bronte. Arthur, with me “ Arthur gave a curt nod

“ I won’t be long “ he assured, hand slipping down around your back and leaning down to your ear “ hands to yourself “ you scoffed as he said it, looking up at him as he stepped away from you.

“ I can’t promise “ you caught his smile as he walked over to Dutch and the staff. Disappearing up the stairs.

“ it’s just this way “ one of members of Lemieux’s staff spoke, gesturing the four of you in the direction of some doors leading out into the party.

“ let’s go ladies. You fancy a drink? “ Hosea said cheerfully, following closely behind you and Molly as you headed outside. You were ushered out into gardens, a mass of the rich and wealthy of Saint Denis all crowded around. Drinking and laughing at things you were sure were not as remotely funny as they were making it out to be.

Bill quickly made himself scarce, disappearing into the crowds to do lord knows what, much to your joy.

“ right. Champagne? “ Hosea excused himself to collect some drinks and you stood on the back porch looking down at the groups of people.

So far removed from what you were used to. You wondered how they’d react knowing you and your little group were currently sleeping in a barely standing plantation home, half of you out under the stars. That you were frauds. Not glamorous and wealthy like them.

In your experience the rich liked to pretend the poor didn’t exist. Unless they were hiring them as help.

“ oh I missed this “ Molly said beside you, almost dreamily in tone. And seemingly more to herself than to you. It was quite possibly the happiest you’d seen her look in days.

She fit right in. Her gorgeous dress rivalling that of some of the other woman down in the courtyard, her hair piled up on her head and her fancy jewellery that was actually hers. Not something stolen from an unsuspecting lady in town. This was Molly. Money and wealth. It still baffled you how she had ended up with Dutch, how she could leave that all behind for a life wandering.

“ you go to party’s like this a lot? Before Dutch I mean “ she gave a small shrug, searching in her small purse for a moment before placing a cigarette between her lips. You could imagine an even younger Molly, a bright eyed teenager done up all fancy and weaving her way through a party just like this one.

“ sometimes “ her eyes were scanning the crowds, practically sparkling at being surrounded by the upper class again “ wonder what kind of people are here “ she seemed to be talking more to herself than you again and very promptly dismissed herself, heading down the stairs and gliding between the guests. Like some true social butterfly, decked out in her finest.

Hosea returned with three glasses of champagne and a slightly confused look noticing Molly had vanished.

“ eh more for me “ he said with a smile, handing you your glass before promptly finishing his own and moving onto what would’ve been Mollys “ I’m going to do some snooping. You’ll be alright? “

“ I’ll be jus’ fine Hosea “ you said with a smile and watched him too disappear down into the crowds.

It was interesting to watch them, to see them behave as if this entire event was a normal evenings activity. Maybe for them it was. But it all felt so… false. People who appeared to be friends but didn’t seem to even really like each other, some silent competition between everyone to have the better dress. The better hat. The biggest house.

You’d take your creaky cot under the stars with Arthur any day, would much rather sit around the campfire getting tipsy and singing. Surrounded by real family. Real friends. Relationships built on loyalty and protection. Not on trying to out do each other.

You walked between the small crowds, eavesdropping on conversations in hopes to find something useful. Something to take back to Dutch to prove bringing you along wasn’t a useless endeavour. But it was mostly women discussing their elaborate hats, sharing stories of the terrible jobs their maids did, or complaining about their husbands poker habits. Or gossiping about how they had heard one of their friends was in delicate condition.

You heard mentions of Leviticus Cornwall, but nothing concrete enough to warrant telling anyone about.

You tried hunting down Molly, simply to have a friend to stand beside and not feel so…out of place. But she had vanished into the crowds somewhere. So you planted yourself on the side of an ornate water fountain, simply hoping Arthur would return soon. Maybe he’d dance with you, or take you walking around the vast garden laid out ahead of you.

You two never really got the chance to do things like that. Romantic things. Arthur had his ways, of course. He’d take you out riding or sit with you on his lap by the fire, telling you about whatever interesting thing he’d discovered that day. He’d bring you flowers he’d pick from time to time, find you interesting things when he went wandering, let you read aloud to him with the excuse he wanted you to get better at it. When in reality you had seen him confess to his journal that he simply just liked to listen to your voice.

He was far softer than he appeared. With you anyway. And as much as you didn’t like the kinds of people in attendance, you thought it might be nice to pretend for the night. To be two wealthy young oil tycoons, dancing and drinking champagne together, gushing about your money and your jewels.

You made your way through another flute of champagne before he returned, interrupting your frivolous daydreaming.

“ there she is “ you turned your head with a beaming smile at his voice, relief at a familiar face “ been lookin for ya “ he sat down beside you, looping an arm around your waist “ you behavin’? “

“ course I am. Ain’t took as much as a pearl “ you said quite proudly, though decided not to mention that the temptation had truly been hard to deny. Not only were these people rich, they were getting drunker by the second. They were practically begging to be robbed.

“ good girl “

“ it go okay with ugh.. what’s his name? “ you asked, turning to face him. He looked just as uncomfortable with the entire situation as you did. This wasn’t his scene. It never had been. He’d grown up just as poor as you had.

Arthur robbed the rich, he didn’t fraternise with them.

“ Bronte. Yeah. Fine. Dutch he’s tryna find the mayor or somethin “ he ran a finger between his neck and collar of his shirt, clearly growing uncomfortable with it. It made you laugh a little.

“ you ain’t cut out for the finer life “

“ no. I ain’t “ he was looking around at the guests in a similar way to you. With a mild sense of disgust “ saw some woman back there, hat so big she were topplin over “ you smiled and leant your head against his shoulder, he tucked you in closer to his side and dropped a kiss to the top of your head.

“ was daydreamin whilst you were with Dutch “ you mused.

“ yeah? About what? “

“ playin’ pretend. Bein’ fancy for the night. Y’know dancin’ and pretendin’ we got buckets of money “ the small sigh Arthur let out made you wonder if he thought that was a life you pined for. It wasn’t. Not really. Yeah, you liked money but.. you just wanted to be comfortable. Little ranch or a cabin some place quiet. Not poor. Not rich. Just. Existing happily “ ain’t us though “

“ you and me we… we ain’t like these people. We ain’t ever gonna be like these people “

“ we don’t gotta be. Me, you. Some pokey lil farm someplace out west? Now that’s the dream cowboy “ he chuckled and nodded, dropping another kiss to your head

“ that’s the dream darlin’ “ you both sat quietly for a short while longer, watching the rich get drunker and more foolish. The odd person acknowledged your presence, greeting you as they passed or tipping their hat. But mostly they left you alone. It was at the point that one man drunkenly stumbled into a bush a few feet away that made you speak up again.

“ never thought I’d miss that damn swamp. But lord above… these people “ Arthur scoffed as he too watched the fool try and right himself again, leaves sticking to the pomade in his hair

“ yeah. I think I need a drink “ he patted your side lightly so you’d stop leaning on him and stood up “ champagne? “

“ oh well ain’t you just so kind sir “ you said in your best attempt a dramatic upper class drawl “ and you gonna dance with me after mister? “ you asked with a teasing smile and he rubbed a hand at the back of his neck for a moment looking almost sheepish. But he was smiling, the sweet genuine kind he only really seemed to show around you.

“ sure darlin’. But I’m definitely gonna need that drink for that “ he ventured back into the crowds then and you stayed put, continuing to watch the guests laugh and talk about how incredible their lives were.

“ I don’t recognise you “ an inquisitive voice spoke, tinged with that accent that the wealthy had started latching on to in some attempts to make themselves sound more superior. Smarter. Whatever. You thought it was quite ridiculous. You turned your head to look at the man, seeing if he was in fact talking to you.

“ talkin’ to me mister? “ he was eyeing you up and down like he was somewhat intrigued but amused by you at the same time. A stupid top hat on his head adored with plumes and the chain of a pocket watch hanging from his pocket. It almost made you laugh at how your brain immediately began thinking about how you could steal it and how much it was worth.

“ I am indeed miss “ he stepped closer, puffing on his cigar and not taking his eyes off of you for a second “ I have frequented many of the mayors parties but you… I do not remember you “ a small wave of panic flushed your skin but you remained calm. Not recognising you was far easier to work your way out of than if he had recognised your face.

“ I’m new in town. My… uncle. He’s friends with Mr Bronte “ the man hummed, sitting himself down beside you.

“ so you’re here with your uncle? “ you shifted slightly at his closeness but remembered you needed to keep up appearances so forced a smile onto your face

“ yeah. And my husband. He’s around here someplace “ the man’s eyes immediately darted down to your gloved hands, probably noting the lack of a ring on your finger. You and Arthur weren’t married. But you may as well have been. He often referred to you as his wife, and he as your husband.

He’d ask you one day.

“ a lucky man “ the man said, blowing smoke in your direction and still looking you up and down. You decided at that moment you very much wanted to steal his watch. Dutch be damned. Having to put up with the likes of slimy rich men for more than ten seconds… well you figured that warranted you at least getting something shiny in return.

“ oh well ain’t you just a charmer “ you said with a smile, placing a hand to his arm “ you here with your wife mister? “ the man laughed and shook his head, scooting a little closer to you.

“ I’m more of a… free spirit “ you gave a small laugh, trying not to crinkle your nose at the smoke blowing in your face again.

Arthur often smelt of fresh smoke, both cigarette and fire, and that fresh air smell that clung to your clothes after being out in the open air for hours. And you loved it on him, because it was well… him. The smoke from this man was far from appealing. But that watch…

“ ohh I see. You ain’t one to be tied down huh? “ your fingers inched closer to the man’s pocket, wrapping lightly around the chain.

“ everythin’ okay here? “ Arthur appeared behind you, a glass in each of his hands.

“ ah is this the fine man that brought you along? Well aren’t you lucky sir “ the man spoke and you noted he didn’t even glance in Arthur’s direction as he spoke, you were now looping the chain of his watch around your wrist. Just one small tug…

“ Mr Callahan “ Arthur murmured, handing you a glass and standing behind you with a hand to your shoulder

“ wonderful to meet you sir. Me and your wife were having a delightful conversation weren’t we dear? "The pressure of Arthur’s fingers increased as he spoke the sweet name, though you weren’t entirely sure it wasn’t because he’d noticed the man’s watch was now safely hidden in the fabric of your skirt.

“ oh yes. Wonderful mister “ the watch discreetly made its way into your boot and you were ready to get away

“ where’d you find a beautiful thing like this sir? I may need to frequent the place myself “ he placed a hand onto your arm and finally looked up at Arthur rather than at you. He made your skin crawl. You didn’t hold a single ounce of remorse for the stolen watch

“ oh no where you’d like “ his tone was a little snippy, the kind when someone was starting to piss him off but he was trying to keep his cool. And Arthur kicking off in the middle of the mayors party wasn’t exactly a part of Dutch’s plan.

“ now I am so sorry but i believe my husband did promise me a dance “ you rose to your feet, sipping your champagne before placing the glass down and taking Arthur’s from his hands “ ain’t that right my love? “

“ yeah… need ya to come with me “ he said lowly, offering you his arm. His face had gone slightly dark, not entirely able to read him, you frowned slightly. But let him lead you away from the man, completely bypassing the area with couples twirling to the music.

“ where we goin? “ you asked with a small laugh, latching onto his arm again and having to take quick steps to keep up with his purposeful strides “ Arthur?”

He didn’t answer immediately, simply led you away from the crowds and around the side of the mayor's house.

“ You mad cause I took that watch? Look he deserved it- “

“ ain’t mad “ he mumbled, still leading you along.

“ okay… so we stealin’ somethin’ else? “ you asked with excitement filtering into your words, already trying to figure out what it could be “ need me to act like a maid? I can do that real good y’know. Is it money? Papers? Oh, is it jewellery? Gold? “ Arthur chuckled at your excitement and shook his head, bringing you to a halt between some elaborately trimmed bushes and trees in planters.

“ we ain’t stealin’ a thing “ you pouted with a mild disappointment and he chuckled again, advancing on you and backing you up against the wall behind you “ don’t gimme that look “ he tucked his fingers under your chin, nudging your face upwards to look at him. He was a god few inches taller than you, but he always made you feel ten times smaller when he looked down at you like that.

“ what’s gotten into you? “ you asked with a giggle, hands slipping under his jacket to slide over his waist.

“ just wanted some time alone with you is all “

“ behind some trees? You are a strange man sometimes Arthur Morgan y’know that? “ he gave a heavy sigh and brushed his thumb across your cheek softly, watching you intently. He always looked at you like you like you were the only woman on the planet “ you sure you ain’t mad about the watch? “

“ no. I ain’t mad. Feller flirtin’ with my woman and only loses his watch sounds like a good deal to me “ he grumbled, leaning forward to press a kiss to your lips.

And a light bulb suddenly pinged on in your head.

“ are you jealous? “ you asked, unable to hide your complete utter joy and amusement as the realisation hit you. He grumbled some kind of an answer and tried to kiss you again but you turned your head to the side, so he settled for your neck instead “ why Arthur Morgan. You are jealous “

He didn’t answer you again, simply tilted your head so he could get at your neck more, his other hand splaying over your lower back to tug you close against him. A mischievous streak ran through you and you chewed on your lip for a moment deciding whether or not to push his buttons.

“ he was kinda nice to me y’know. He seemed a nice feller “ Arthur’s teeth grazed your skin at your words and your smile grew bigger “ kept me from bein’ so lonely with you gone “

“ he wanted to do more than keep you company “ your fingers ran through the long strands of his hair, sighing softly as he continued to kiss your neck

“ you think? You gonna keep me company now? “

“ oh I’ll keep you company “ you had said it only really to tease. Thinking that actually, a sordid little moment with your lover behind the bushes would be an incredible improvement on the evening.

But it was hard to simply just kiss Arthur. He had wandering hands, had lips as addictive as whiskey. Even when you assumed he wasn’t particularly trying to work you up, he did. But the way he was tugging at your body to keep you pressed against him, the way his lips were burning a trail along your neck and across your jaw…

“ Arthur… y’know anyone could come round here “

“ stay quiet then and they ain’t gonna be none the wiser “ your skin prickled with heat at his words and your hips involuntarily rolled against him. Maybe it was the thrill. Maybe it was the fact that he was so… needy. Desperate to remind himself that you were his and not some stupid rich man in an equally as stupid hat.

He groaned against your hot skin as you pressed against him, the sound igniting something deep in your bones. Flaring up through your veins and cursing like lava through your veins.

Your hands found themselves back under his jacket, fingers tugging at his shirt to free it from where it has been neatly tucked into his pants. You knew you couldn’t get it off of him but you still wanted to feel.

You hummed softly when your fingertips met his skin, as hot as you knew yours must be. He loved to feel you touch him, loved when dragged your nails across his back, sunk your teeth into his shoulder to quiet your moans when you were dangerously close to other members of camp.

You wished you could do it in that moment. Wished you were back in your room, truly the only good thing to come out of Shady Belle was the fact that you had a room.

But Arthur didn’t seem keen on waiting. Seemingly having some point to prove to himself. And you were more than happy to let him.

His hands drifted down to the floaty material of your skirt, reluctantly pulling himself away from your neck to frown at the material in front of him.

“ why you gotta have so many damn skirts? “ he grumbled, fumbling with the layers of fabric hanging from your waist.

“ you picked the dress “ you reminded him with a smile, chasing after his lips again. Desperate to kiss him properly now that he had stopped his assault on your neck. He kissed you with a energy that demanded your attention, that drew you in and locked you in place. Hot. Wet. Addictive “ least it ain’t as big as Mollys “ you said when you let yourself pull away.

“ yeah well I weren’t plannin’ on keepin’ you in it when we- god damn there’s enough fabric here to dress the entire camp “ you couldn’t help the giggle that fell past your lips, watching him try to figure out how he was going to play out whatever sordid thoughts were running through his head.

Your own mind had quite ungracefully fallen into the gutter itself, realising exactly what Arthur wanted. And your constant desperation for the man in front of you overruling all your concerns at the location.

He seemed to be getting a little agitated with your dress and you held back the urge to giggle at him. Instead opting to try sooth the frown lines worrying at his forehead, reaching forward to palm at him through the material of his pants. In hopes it would be some kind of incentive for him to hurry up as well.

As much as you needed him as badly as you needed air, you were also still aware of exactly where you were. And how long it would take until Dutch came looking.

“ c’mon Arthur “ you whispered, desperation beginning to fill your words “ ‘fore they notice we’re gone “ it had been his idea to take you away, and yet you were seemingly the more desperate of the two of you now. But how could he or anyone else blame you? When he was all gussied up like he was. In truth you liked his normal attire a little more. Liked him a little more… rugged. But lord did he look handsome in his suit, his hair and beard all neat and tidy.

Arthur’s breath audibly caught in his throat from your touch and it seemed to effectively spur him on.

“ yes ma’am “ He spun you around with strong hands to your waist, your own hands bracing yourself against the wall. The next moments were a flurry of his hands hitching your skirts over your hips, grabbing at your undergarments before a strong arm looped around your waist to pull you back against him.

His hand disappeared under your bunched up skirts making you gasp softly as his fingers dipped into the warmth between your thighs.

“ this all for me darlin? “ you could hear the smirk in his words, feel it as he brushed his nose against your cheek. The short stands of his beard tickled at your skin, sending a shiver snaking along your spine.

“ course it is “ the sound of a lady drunkenly laughing a little too close by made you freeze, hand reaching around to grab at Arthur’s arm.

He didn’t seem discouraged by the idea of someone stumbling upon you both, simply moved his hand up to grasp gently at your jaw, turning your face towards his to kiss you. His other hand was still between your thighs, and you sighed softly against his lips as he drew a thick finger between the wetness of your folds “ oh Arthur…“

Your cunt clenched around nothing. As if silently begging for his fingers to just push inside of you, take you in a way you had always found so much more personal than just sitting on his cock. His fingers that held his guns, that he used to beat people to death more times than either of you could care to count. Those same fingers working you open, covered in the slick evidence of your desire for him instead of gun oil. Fingers that cause pain and damage, but also sent you spiralling into mind blowing pits of pleasure.

And paired with the current location? It just felt… dirty. Erotic. You felt no better than a common whore loitering in a saloon for custom. You wanted him so desperately, needed him.

“ Arthur “ you sighed, pushing your self against his hand as he toyed with your swollen clit.

“ tell me what y’need pretty girl “ he said softly, tickling your skin with his beard and dragging his tongue across your neck before sinking his teeth into the flesh, making you whimper.

“ you- Arthur. You. Please “ his hand continued its gentle movements as he worked at your neck. You pushed your hips back against him, grinding against the hardness still trapped by his pants in a way that couldn’t be comfortable. His breath shuddered against your skin as you did, holding you flush against him to let you wiggle your hips in a silent invitation to just take you already.

A smashing glass drew your attention briefly away from him again. And as much as you could let him do that all evening, you were still hyper aware of your surroundings.

You silently wished he’d just waited until you were back at camp, could take his time with you on that shitty little bed in the privacy of your room at Shady Belle.

But there you were. And there were hundreds of others only a few feet away too.

“ stop teasin we ain’t got the time “ at any other time he’d have worked you into a mess with his fingers, even dropped to his knees and disappeared under your skirts, have you coming on his tongue over and over again just because he wanted to. But he hadn’t planned the situation well at all, and you weren’t exactly in the best of locations. If anyone so much as peaked around the corner of the building a little too far you were certain you’d be spotted.

And wouldn’t that be a tale.

“ ain’t you bossy “ you opened your mouth to snip back at him, but your words evaporated into nothing but a soft whimper as Arthur followed your demands, pushing past his desires to take his time with you. Truly it was his own fault that he couldn’t though, as he withdrew his fingers and fumbled with the buttons on his pants.

“ Arthur “ you whimpered softly, breath stuttering at the feel of his swollen tip brushing between the wet folds of your cunt.

“ quiet now darlin’ “ He pushed in slowly, in the way he so often did. Making sure you felt every single devastating inch, your back arching against his chest as your body flushed with warmth. Even after so many times the stretch was still a lot, a deep burning ache that eventually melted away into a blinding hot pleasure that burnt its way through your veins.

He pressed on until he was flush against you, the material of his opened pants scratching against your soft skin as he held you there a moment. He exhaled slowly, his breath warm against your skin.

It was never fucking with Arthur. Not very often anyways. It was love making. Soft. And slow. And a brutal pace that made sure you remembered he’d been there the next morning, but oh so drawn out. He was gentle. Tender. It had always shocked you how violent he could be and yet become so careful and soft with you. And even there, concealed by a few perfectly trimmed bushes and planters, he was taking his time. Reminding you that you were his. And maybe reminding himself of the fact too.

Reminding himself that maybe there were men only a few feet away that wanted you. That would pay for the pleasure of your company. But only Arthur could have it, that he was the only one you would ever offer it too.

That this deep rooted instinct to protect what was his wasn’t entirely necessary but god was it wanted. That his desire made your blood boil with lust, skin burn under his touch.

“ That’s my girl “ he whispered, tone low and steady as he set himself into a bruising pace, still tightly holding onto you as he did. His face had fallen to your neck again, lips latching onto every inch of exposed skin they could.

You were certain you were going to walk back into the party looking like you’d taken a dip with some leeches.

You tried your best to be quiet, teeth sinking into your bottom lip in some hopes that mixed with the sounds of the party happening only a few feet away you wouldn’t be heard. But it was so hard to be silent when he was fucking you like that. So determined, so strong, pulling out almost completely before pushing back in hard.

Your hand was still gripping at his arm, blunt fingernails digging at his skin through his jacket. His pace increased a little, settling into a steady rhythm that carved a devastating stretch inside of you.

“ y’know I think that feller- that feller back there. He wanted you like this “ you couldn’t help the smile that pulled its way onto your face, still flushing with joy at his jealousy. You knew Arthur desired you carnally. Always had done and always would. But a reminder like the present one was always nice.

“ y’think so? “

“ I know “ he grumbled, his pace increasing a little more, clearly attempting to take out his frustrations with the handsy man. But also maybe simply trying to assure himself in the process too.

Arthur didn’t like to admit it but he was a little self conscious. You’d heard him talk down to himself in the mirror countless times, had seen the way he spoke about himself when you peaked over his shoulder at his journal. Had an almost crippling fear of abandonment that sometimes he did need to be reminded that you wanted him.

“ poor feller “ you said with a small sigh before pushing lightly at Arthur’s arm so he’d let you go. You winced slightly as he pulled out, immediately missing the heavy feel of him there, and spun around tugging him back towards you by the lapels of his jacket “ ain’t got nothin on you “ you hitched your skirts up in your arm and wrapped your spare hand around the now slick length of his cock making him stutter a breath.

His face was flushed, bottom lip shiny from kissing you. You wanted to absolutely devour him, strip him of his fancy clothes and remind him just how much you wanted every part of him.

The look in his eyes was almost primal. Desire and lust burning so brightly it made your chest ache, to feel so wanted. To feel so desired.

To have a man so usually controlled and put together, be reduced to not being able to even wait until you got home. That he had to have you there. Right there in that moment. He couldn’t wait.

You needed him to pull you apart. To worship every inch of you in the way he so often did.

But the side of the mayor's house was truly not the place for such a thing.

“ no one could make me feel the way you do “ you whispered, stroking him softly in your hand as you tried to stoke the fire under his ego. Make him realise he truly had no reason to be jealous “ and him back there? He thought he could huh? Poor feller “

“ poor feller “ he echoed, sliding a hand over your leg and hitching it over his hip, sliding back into you with a welcome ease that made your head fall back against the wall.

“ Thinks he could fuck me better than this? Man must be damn crazy “ you said with a smile, breathless as he fucked into you. You were practically dripping around him, the lewd sounds between you enough to make your skin flush.

“ you’re mine darlin “ you nodded immediately. Not a single doubt in your mind on the matter. You were his. And he yours. That was how it would always be “ all mine, you hear? “

“ all yours Arthur. Ain’t no man in this whole damn country could replace you”

He moved with more determination, thrusting into you harder in a way you knew was going to bruise your back from rubbing against the wall. His all too familiar deep, hard pace. You pulled him down by the back of his neck, muffling your whimpers with his mouth cautious again that you were getting a little reckless.

“ that good? Makin me feel so good darlin’ such a good girl “ the entire thing felt almost animalistic. Desires so strong they couldn’t be withheld. Dirty. Filthy. Perfect.

“ God Arthur “ the look on his face alone made you clench around him, never wanting him to leave, needing to feel the heavy bruising sensation as he split you apart for the rest of your life. He hitched your leg higher, hitting some new devastating part inside of you that made you see stars. Eyes rolling to the back of your head and unable to contain the sounds escaping your throat any longer.

“ There she is, jus’ like that darlin I got ya” his grip on your leg grew restless, fingers dancing over your skin and trying to pull you as close to him as he could get you. He always wanted you close. Always wanted to feel your skin against his own. A moment later his thrusts became sloppier and you knew he wasn’t far off. Though quite frankly neither were you “ so pretty for me like this ain’t ya? My girl “ his words only pulled you closer to the edge, knot twisting tighter.

“ Arthur I- “

“ I know. I know darlin, can feel it “ he almost cooed, lifting a hand to cup your face gently “ that’s it look right at me. That’s a girl right at me “ with his gaze so intense you couldn’t hold it any longer, biting down on your lip as you attempted to conceal your sounds of ecstasy as you came over his cock.

He was barely a second behind you, a stuttered groan of a sound leaving him as he dropped his forehead against yours, painting your slick walls with rope after rope of come as you clenched around him. Holding him in place so that not a single drop of him would go to waste. It was a risky business letting him finish inside of you, truly it was. But in your sex drunk haze you didn’t care, couldn’t give a damn because it simply felt too good to give up.

He nudged his nose against yours, brushing his lips against your own and kissed you softly. So tender and gentle, his hand carefully lowering your leg back down, slipping his softening length out of you making you wince. He kissed the crinkles it caused to show at the corners of your eyes, whispering a gentle sorry. He soothed his hands over your waist with a care very few men had for women those days.

“ my girl “ he murmured, littering kisses across your cheeks and nose.

When he pulled back you couldn’t help but smile. The dopey, soft kind. He was looking far less put together than he had done when you’d arrived, the pomade in his hair no longer serving its purpose after your fingers had gotten to it. He’d broken a sweat too, his forehead shiny. His skin flushed.

The smugness was overwhelming though, could see it in his eyes. In the small smirk pulling at his lips. He seemed incredibly proud of himself.

“ you are somethin’ else “ he mumbled as he finished readjusting his clothes, reaching forward to slip the ruffled strap of your dress back up your shoulder from where it had slipped. Pressing a kiss to the skin there for good measure.

“ I ain’t the jealous one “ you teased as you combed your fingers through his hair in some attempt to tidy it.

“ ain’t jealous. No idea what you talkin about girl “ he said with a small clear of his throat in some attempt to hide the obvious lie, you simply smiled again and pressed a kiss to his cheek

“ mhm sure “

There was something about having to go back out into the party with the light ache between your legs, with the evidence of Arthur’s jealousy slowly dripping down your thighs. And Arthur seemed to think so too

“ now. I believe you wanted to dance? “

#Amy in the kindest possible way. keep scrolling #I know I’m posting late but I want i didn’t wanna wait until tomorrow sooo #ANYWAYS. FIRST ARTHUR UPLOAD WHOO #crippling fear or writing for a new character and fandom starts now!#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #Arthur Morgan smut #x you #Dutch van der linde #van der linde gang

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colourstreakgryffin · 3 months

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hii! could u write headcanons of Alastor x Male (preferly) Overlord Reader who is the opposite of him? Rarely smiles, isn't very chatty and is rough? and since Alastor loves dancing and singing, maybe Reader is shy about it and doesn't like the way he dances and sings?

You know what! I am gonna kill two birds with one stone and make us an Ink Demon! Overlord. So, we’re basically like Baby Bendy from the second BATIM game. Don’t know it? Look it up. One side is harmless and adorable and the other side is monstrous and vicious— however. Here, it’ll just be causal demon form than evil demonic Ink Demon form! Anyway. Let’s goooo. I’ve been doing a lot of GN for Alastor, this time we got a man! I don’t know if you want us to be romantic, I am just gonna guess platonic

Alastor- Follow Me

You look pretty cute and friendly. Black and white, cartoony, with adorable stereotypical demon features like arch-like horns and a long-thin tipped tail. Most importantly, your entire body is made of ink. Only your clothing is touchable, otherwise, your ‘skin’ is so soft, liquidity and stains anything it touches. For that reason and one more, you harden yourself up and avoid conversation

Alastor, the Radio Demon, is not a fan of making friends with men. He prefers women, they are just easier to talk to. However, you’re not as vile and unlikeable as most men with your personality is. You’re the strict, stern, responsible one of the Overlords, ordering the other Overlords to pay attention to Camilla Carmine

Alastor doesn’t know why but he finds you interesting

Your uncontrollable Ink Demon side is extremely violent and merciless so you had to develop a thick shell, in order to make sure nothing can make it trigger at random. It’s too much of a risk, hence why you behave in the way you do. It’s a self-defence mechanism and it’s a protection method to everybody else around too

Alastor doesn’t even care that you’re untouchable. He will touch you anyway, getting annoyed by the black ink forming your body in a in-fact, solid fashion, getting onto his sleeves or hand but he ignores it to converse with you

Alastor also ignores the gruff warnings you give out when he approaches you. That you’re dangerous and that the Ink Beast will try rip him to pieces if it’s let out. If anybody thinks Alastor would be scared of the Ink Demon, they have another thing coming. He’d actually like to face off this Ink Beast one day

It looks like, to every other Overlord, that Alastor is talking to a brick wall when he talks to you. Since you’re not responding not even looking at him, just focusing on Camilla and her statements with the most bland and rough expression, not a single hint of a grin. You’re the opposite of Alastor and yet, he’d like to befriend you

Alastor keeps trying and trying without even halting. He’s quite the persistent man and when he wants to befriend somebody, he won’t stop until he gets what he desires and at this moment, it’s to make friends with you, rather you shut him down and bark at him to stay away

Alastor finds your overall appearance cute. You look like you were drawn for a kids cartoon in the early 19th century. Possibly around his own time of the 1920s-1930s. You’re bendy and mendable, you defy all laws of logic and have cartoon physics on your side. You’re like if a kids cartoon demon tried to be a big bad mafia boss and ruled a part of Hell itself, and he isn’t filtered when it comes to this opinion. He straight up tells you all that

Alastor, overtime, ends up succeeding like the little I don’t take no for a answer brat he is in getting you to agree in joining him out to the Hazbin Hotel and accompanying him for a nice little tour. Throughout the tour, he notices that some music in the Lobby is blasting and without even hesitating, he drags you over to join him into a dance

“Come, my dear sir. Let us dance this tension away!” Alastor chimes out rather excited, immediately leading you into a half-messy dance performance with him as the head. You just stumble along, slightly gritting your fangs in discomfort but it won’t be acknowledged by Alastor in the slightest. All he cares about is putting a smile on your face

Alastor laughs warmly as you attempt to try keep up with him during this dance he had dragged you into. You’re clearly quite timid, not enjoying the way the Deer Overlord dances and sings but you either don’t care enough to shut him up or you are too kind to try shut him up

Alastor likes to tease you about your behaviour and your looks. He isn’t frightened or intimidated at all by your beast side and you’re too colourless and squishy to be scary, he does actually view you as a wonderful friend. Even whilst you’re cold and dismissive, he can get you to acknowledge him and be polite to him so it’s a win for Alastor in the end

It’s been a long time since Alastor got a male friend so he can be more crude and snarky with you, without actually needing to be sensitive, like with his women friends

“My good fellow. You don’t need to act so broody. Smile now, you’re safe and whatever you are worried about, it’s not going to do anything to you or me or anybody in this Hotel”

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wooyoungmybelovedhusband · 5 months

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ɪɴɪQᴜɪᴛᴏᴜꜱ ᴊᴇʀᴋ - ʏᴊʜ

⛧ PAIRING : Gambler! Mobboss! Yoon Jeonghan x F! Reader

⛧ TROPE : Established relationship AU

⛧ GENRE : Smut, Gambling themes

⛧ SYNOPSIS : Having sat next to your boyfriend for whole three hours, got you more more than just bored.

⛧ CONTENT/WARNINGS : Bratty! Reader [I'm back with this y'all], super horny! Reader, HardDom! Jeonghan, degradation, blowjob, hair pulling, cum eating, slight ass groping, slut-shaming, Daddy kink.

⛧ WORD COUNT : 1.4k

⛧ A/N : Jeonghan has me under his chokehold y'all. be scared

⛧ DISCLAIMER : Anyone who hates or doesn't like smuts can kindly block my account. DO NOT REPORT.

Feedbacks and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

⛧ JOIN MY TAGLIST - ♛

You leaned your back on the cushions of the black leather couch. You eyed all the huge bunches of money stacked up in between the table, several different men and women sitting around the huge table as they anxiously anticipated to see the winner. Your fingers held onto the stem of your wine glass, swirling it in pure boredom you had been feeling for the whole time. But boredom wasn't all you felt, you had sat there with your mind wandering to places at the sight of your boyfriend – well almost sugar daddy – who sat with his legs spread, his pants hugging his thighs while his jaw clenched in frustration.

‘Fucking bastard’ You mutter under your breath, in annoyance, but making certain Jeonghan heard you.

His eyebrow cocks up at your curse, but his focus stays on the cards. He clenches his teeth while his hand stays on his cards. A low scoff escapes your lips at the lack of his reaction, you wanted nothing but scream at him. ‘Iniquitous Jerk’ – another curse mindlessly rolls off your tongue while you roll your eyes at the back of his head. Well who could blame you, you had been sitting there for three hours straight with nothing to do about the arousal pooling in between your legs.

You wanted him to bend you over the table and pound into you for trying to distract him in between the biggest game.

You wanted him to let his big cock sink inside your pussy while his hands caressed your ass lovingly before striking against the soft flesh.

You just wanted him and his hands all over your body, telling you to behave.

You sneakily slip your hand down to his thighs, your fingers danced on his leather covered skin. Before you could even have the thought of slipping your hand any further towards his crotch, you feel his fingers wrap around your hand and throw your hand away from his thighs – while a discreet ‘Behave’ was heard by you.

You stare off into void for the next few minutes, in pure arousal and disappointment, before you flinch hearing a loud groan from the other man next to you. And you look around to find your boyfriend smirking while his bodyguards take out three empty suitcases and bag all the money on the table. “Well played Yoon.” The older man next to you says while everyone walks out groaning and grunting.

After finally filling up the suitcases all the bodyguards eye Jeonghan for the next order. “Walk out, lock the door and wait for us. Make sure, no one even tries to enter the lounge, I've got something to take care of.” Jeonghan made sure only you were able to hear the last sentence.

He pats his thighs once he made sure the three built men left the suit, “Come here, princess.” You let out a scoff for the nth time tonight, “And why would I do that?” You taunt him, but seemingly Jeonghan's patience ran thinner than any other day, today. Maybe the man would have tolerated your behaviour for a few minutes longer usually, but today he had had enough of your little bratty blabbers through the whole night and not to forget, your scoffs and whines every few minutes had pushed him to the edge.

“Keep up with that attitude and I'll rip apart this tight little dress and make you walk out naked with my cum dripping down your legs.”

A low whimper flew from your throat before you could even have a thought of controlling it. And Jeonghan shoots you his angelic smile again, “Now, I'm asking you again, Come here, Now.”

You scramble to get yourself on top of his thigh. Jeonghan's smile morphs into a smirk at your obedience, but oh will you face the consequences. His hand comes down to the small of your back, and lowers till he's gripping the flesh of your ass harshly. “Shouldn't you start making up for your behaviour, and get on your knees by now?” Your expression changes to one of confusion. “Unless you want to be edged till we get home, and I still would not let you come.”

For a fact, you know Jeonghan isn't joking when he cocks his eyebrows while his lips part away. You swiftly sink down to your knees, your hands already working on the belt of his pants. Your fingers slip in between his waistband, pulling down his pants along with his boxers to free his cock. Your pupils dilate from excitement, and your fingers barely graze over his length before his hand is slapping yours away.

“Hands to yourself, Bad sluts don't get to touch their daddy’s cocks.”

There was hidden excitement bubbling up in you, gosh you were finally getting what you wanted the whole night. Finally getting treated like you were his slut, nothing but a cum dump for him to relieve his stress.

Your head leans forward excitedly, and Jeonghan doesn't miss the chance to taunt about that fact. “Aren't you a little too excited for a brat who was speaking nasty stuff about her daddy?” You barely try to control the bratty whine that emerges from you as you look up at him with your best puppy eyes. You knew well Jeonghan was weak for those. “Guess I have to give my slut what she wants, don't I?”

And soon, before you could comprehend, his hands intertwine between your hair locks and push you down onto his cock. Your throat constricts around his length while his hands push you down on his cock till your nose is almost touching his skin. Your eyes tear up quicker than you imagined, and your jaw struggles to take him whole. Jeonghan visibly smirks at your pathetic struggling state, feeling so powerful as he sits there leaning his back against the couch.

His hands grip tightens on your hair locks before pulling you back with a jerk. He let out a mocking chuckle at your state, tears were streaming down your cheeks and your lipstick was quite much smudged. He soon expresses a fake frustrated grunt, “Can't even fucking take my cock in her mouth like a good slut. Guess that stupid mouth is of no use is it?”

“You just caught me off guard” You defend yourself while angrily lashing back at him.

“Ah! Now don't you fucking talk back, get to work if that slutty mouth of yours is of any use.” You swiftly lowered your head back down onto his cock, while your hands were behind your back. Just like he wanted. Your plump lips moved up and down his base, while your tongue swirled around him making him throw his head back. Few strands of his hair flew to his forehead and his hands came down to slightly glide you around his cock.

“Fuck fuck fuck! Such a fucking slutty mouth you have baby? Always ready to suck daddy off isn't it?” His voice comes out hoarse followed by a loud moan. His hips try hard not to buckle right up into your mouth while his hands tightened their grip on your hair locks moving your head faster.

Jeonghan's hips finally buckle up, not being able to hold still. While his hands still your head, his hips thrust up making his dick hit the back of your throat for the second time.

Within a few seconds, you were breathing heavily through your nostrils – well trying to – and your hair was a mess under his fingers’ tight grip when you felt his hot load of cum, spill into your tongue – and some painting the roof of your mouth. Jeonghan's eyebrows furrow in delight and he throws his head back in a loud groan.

His hands take a good long lasting minute before slowly releasing you off his length with a ‘pop’. Jeonghan's heavy panting slowly dies down and regains his posture. He grips your arms and pulls you up to your feet, and makes you sit on the desk. He cups your face slowly, before letting his lips enclose yours. He could still taste himself on your tongue before he pulled away.

“Let's get to the car.” His words instantly make you exclaim, “What?!”

“Mhm, don't act greedy. You were such a good girl just now. Stay patient till we get home, and I'll fuck you till you can't walk.”

Jeonghan walks towards the door, and you follow him just two steps behind him. A scowl plastered on your face.

“Iniquitous Jerk.” – You spat under your breath. “Now, say that again, unless you want me to bend you over that table and spank your ass till it's the colour of your lipstick and not let you cum for the whole night.”

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taleasnewastime · 2 years

Text

What if I love you too much?

Summary: Jungkook. It’s only a name you learn after your son kicks his ball over the fence. Before that you only knew him as the hot new neighbour who mows his lawn topless. And though you have no intention of getting to know him anymore than that, inevitably you do. You don’t necessarily fall, it’s too slow for that, but you definitely develop feelings you don’t intend to feel. Because you know men like him, and you know that whatever you’re feeling, he’s probably not feeling the same. All the same, however hard you try, you can’t help yourself.

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Genre: fluff; angst; smut; single mum reader

Word count: 20.6k

Warnings: Single mum, small fights, explicit sexual content, oral (f receiving), safe penetrative sex, reader thinks Jungkook is cheating/playing the field, angst, but also fluff, child gets injured (though not seriously), talks of cuts and a small amount of blood.

Additional Drabbles!

Authors Note: Happy Saturday! Hope you’re having a nice weekend so far :)

“Ask him to mow your lawn.”

“What? Rosie, why would I –”

“Because look at your lawn, Y/N,” she twists to look at you with a flat face before looking back out your front window with dreamy eyes. “And then look at him.”

You look at the man in question, every glistening, no-tee-shirt-on, tattooed sleeved, square inch of him. Ok, so maybe you get her point a little. Still, you’re not about agree with her.

“I can mow,” you defend yourself instead. “And my lawns not that bad.”

“But can you mow like him?”

“Anyone can mow like him. He’s literally just going up and down the grass.”

“Y/N. Please. Just look at that body.”

“I thought you wanted me to look at his mowing.”

You catch her rolling her eyes as you twist to sit properly on your sofa, no longer wanting to objectify your new neighbour. You don’t even know his name and yet you’re already ogling at the beads of sweat that roll down the many abs he’s sporting. The feminist in you is ashamed.

“Then ask for some sugar,” Rosie continues, still looking out the window. “Or bake him some cakes to properly welcome him to the street, or I don’t know ask him to look after Zac.”

“Oh yeah, because that’s the way to any man’s heart. Please can you look after my four-year-old child?”

“Alright,” Rosie huffs, finally giving in and twisting to sit by you. “I was just brainstorming.”

“Well, thanks but no thanks.”

You stand, try to focus on the reason you came into the room in the first place. Before you spotted your new neighbour mowing topless you were cleaning the mess Zac, your four-year-old son, had left before he bulldozed his way into the garden. You love your son: he’s cute, caring, behaves and will happily entertain himself when you’re busy, but he has so much energy that sometimes he’s like a little tornado. You’re always cleaning up in his leave.

“You need to introduce yourself at some point,” Rosie continues, her voice taking on a more innocent tone, but you still know her game.

“He’s my neighbour –”

“Exactly.”

“– I don’t talk to all my neighbours. We’ll probably just smile if we happen to get out our cars at the same time.”

Rosie heaves a sigh as if you’re being utterly unreasonable. “You’re impossible.”

“You make it sound like I haven’t been with a man since Henry,” you’re still cramming toys into the plastic box you keep hidden behind the sofa when you say the name of Zac’s dad so miss the annoyed look that crossed Rosie’s face.

“Remind me who again?”

You stand up straight, twist to frown at her. Really?

“And don’t say Cam. We all know that was just a glorified blow job.”

You heat, shake your head as your frown deepens. You tell her everything but sometimes wonder if you should leave certain details out.

“There was Paul,” you begin but are put off by the look Rosie gives you. Ok, maybe she’s right, Paul was the IT guy at work that took you on two dates, the furthest you got was a kiss on your doorstep. “Urm, ok, fine. Though, dating a man is still being with him. But fine, what about Aaron?”

“Arrogant Aaron. That’s one.”

You don’t comment on the nickname, though she may have a point, you have bigger things to think about, your brain churning through the last four years to find any semblance of a relationship that will get Rosie off your back.

“James. One night, but it was good.”

“We’re up to two,” she says in a tone that implies you’re not doing well and need to improve.

“Ryan,” you almost shout the name at her when it pops into your head.

“Was Ryan really after Zac?”

“Yep, I remember Zac waking up screaming right when he was about to –”

“Auntie Roo,” you’re cut off by said screaming child.

Your lips seal shut, you both go stiff, if Zac wasn’t four, you’d both look incredibly guilty. Luckily he isn’t old enough to question it. Instead he does a light jump up and down in front of Rosie, eyes wide and smile broad.

“Please can you play?” The words are a little slurred together in his rush to get them out, some of the letters still not properly forming so when you’re with strangers you have to interpret for him. Rosie is fluent in four-year-old speak and the sentence was clear enough for you both to understand.

“Shall we play out front?”

You shoot daggers at the top of her head. She only smiles.

“But, I wanna play with Baby Boe.”

“Fine,” Rosie says still chipper, she stands to her full height rolling her eyes at you. “There’s at least no mistaking he’s yours.”

You give her a sarcastic smile as she twists and follows your son into the garden, Zac babbling on about something unintelligible, Rosie humming along as if fully engaged. You watch them disappear before going back to the task at hand, shoving the last toys into the box you collapse onto the sofa, happy to have even a minute of quiet to yourself.

Closing your eyes you can hear Rosie and Zac playing house in the back garden with his toy dog, Baby Boe. But there’s also that mechanical sound from earlier. You try to ignore it, but now alone you find it hard. Sitting up straight you make sure you truly are alone before twisting and looking over the back of the sofa.

Your neighbour is still there, on the last strip of grass now. You watch as he finishes, stops the lawn mower and then sweeps a hand through his hair. It makes his abs stretch and his arms flex. It only entrances you more. Rosie is right, he’s hot as hell, but what she doesn’t realise is that you don’t need that in your life. Sex is great, and though you’ve only had a few ‘relationships’ since Zac, there have been enough for you to know that however big the payoff may be, it’s never big enough.

You guess you’ll just have to appreciate the view with this one.

You feel sweaty and tired but unfortunately your son is a bundle of never-ending energy, so here you are kicking a ball around your garden in the baking sun with Zac.

He’s giggling as you half force a smile on your face. It’s not that you’re not having a good time, you love time with your son, it’s more that you’ve been kicking this same ball around for nearing half an hour now. Anytime you’ve suggested doing something else Zac has had a near meltdown. It’s better to play along with it sometimes.

Zac hits the ball towards you, trying to get it between the section of fence you pretend to defend. You leap the wrong way letting the ball hit the fence with a bang.

“And he scores!” You cheer.

Zac screams, hands in the air he does a little running celebration, one he’s done after scoring every goal so far. It still makes you smile.

“What does that make it now, Zac?”

“One million!”

You laugh, fetching the ball and lightly kicking it in his direction.

“Come on then, let’s make it one million and one.”

Zac continues to giggle and run around the garden a little before running at the ball. You can see it’s a bad idea before he even kicks it but are too late to say anything. Zac’s foot hits the ball and it goes shooting towards you. You duck, cover your face with your hands on instinct. But the ball goes over you and the fence.

There’s a beat of silence before Zac realises what he’s done.

“Oh dear,” you say gently, already trying to do damage control.

Zac looks from the top of the fence to your face, his eyes wide with shock.

“It’s ok, we have another ball,” you say.

“But I want my ball,” his eyes are welling up, his bottom lip pouting out.

You try not to sigh and make the situation worse. Instead you go over to the house and pick up one of the other balls. It looks exactly the same, yet Zac doesn’t look impressed.

“This is your ball, Zac,” you try to fill your voice with excitement rather than annoyance. “This one is just as fun. Look.”

You bounce it on the floor before softly kicking towards him. Even you’d admit you don’t do a very convincing job at showing how great the ball is and judging by Zac’s tearful frown, he hasn’t been sold on your pitch either.

“Ok,” you sigh, Zac still looking tearful. “We can go knock next door and ask for it back, but he may not be in and then we’re not allowed to just go around and get it.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s not our house, is it?”

“But it’s my ball.”

“Yes, but we still have to ask nicely for it back, don’t we?” You don’t wait for a response to that rhetorical question, just continue to plough on. “Come on then.”

You hold your hand out and are rewarded with a smaller one placed in it. You head to your side gate, trying and failing to think about what you’re about to do and who you’re about to meet. He’s just a man. Really nothing to stress about. But having Rosie’s words in your head makes it feel like meeting him is something it’s not.

“You have to ask him Zac. So, what do you say?”

There’s a second’s pause filled with the grinding of your gate on the pavement. You look down at Zac when you’re out front and can see his brain working a mile a minute trying to work out the answer to your question.

“You say: I accidentally kicked my ball into your garden. Please can I have it back?”

“I accidentally kick my ball. Please can I have it?” He messes up the pronunciation of accidentally, it’s cute.

“Kicked it into your garden,” you correct as you approach your neighbour’s door.

“I kicked my ball in your garden. Can I have it?”

“Please,” you remind him gently before looking down at him.

He whispers the word back at you, now stood in front of the man’s door he looks a little less sure about the situation. Still, however much you’re also dreading this you’re going to do. it You need to have the confidence for both of you.

You take a breath before looking up and pressing the doorbell. There’s silence as you wait, neither you nor Zac saying anything.

Then the door’s clicking and being pulled open and then there he is. On a slight step above you, you have to look up a little to take in the wide smile he’s showing you. He’s got on a large white t-shirt, baggy black trousers and yet, even though he’s completely covered compared to when you saw him mowing his lawn and the top is not giving you even a hint of what lies beneath, you still feel flustered by his presence.

“Hello,” he says, eyes flicking between you and Zac, smile on his lips but a question in his eyes.

“Hi,” you squeak back, voice too high. “I’m Y/N and this is Zac. We’re your neighbours and uh, Zac here wants to ask you something.”

Both your eyes go down to your little boy who’s now clinging to your leg. He looks up at you unsure, his eyes quickly going to the man and then back to you. Your heart melts.

“Come on Zac,” you say in a far softer tone, your hand going to brush the back of his head. “Can you remember what we said?”

He mutters something that you can’t make out, his lips hardly moving, his eyes on the ground. Still, you look at the man to see his reaction. You’re surprised when you find him leaning in and down towards your son as if to better pick up on what he’s saying. Your heart does something funny and you have to mentally slap yourself to refocus.

“You’ve got to speak a little louder baby.”

Zac addresses you when he says, “Please can I have my ball?”

Well, at least it was louder and he used the word please. But it’s no surprise when you look at the man and he’s looking at you nonplus.

“Zac accidentally kicked his ball into your garden. We were wondering if we could go get it back?”

“Please,” Zac pipes in and while you flush the man seems to light up from within, a mixture of amusement and utter joy at your son embarrassing you.

“Yes, that’s right Zac,” you manage to keep your voice steady. “Please can we have our ball back?”

“Of course,” the man replies, looking between you both. “Why don’t I open up the side gate and you can go find it Zac?”

You look at Zac and he looks back at you unsure what to reply. You give a little nod of your head for encouragement and are rewarded with him looking back at the man and repeating your gesture.

“Give me a sec then,” the man says, standing back straight. “I need to do the bolt from the other side. Why don’t you go wait for me over there?”

You both look to where he points, the gate in question. Zac, now less nervous around the man starts without you. Glancing back at the man to be met with another smile, you swallow before following Zac.

It only takes a second for the gate to grind open. The ally is much like yours, concrete slabs leading down the side of his house to the green of his garden. The man stood in your way bends to look at Zac.

“Why don’t you go run in and have a look? See if you can find your ball in all my long grass?”

This time he needs no encouragement from you. It seems the man has gained his trust in the few minutes you’ve been in his presence. You feel him slip away from you and then watch as he runs down the ally into the garden, leaving you and the man alone. You scramble for words to fill the silence to make it less awkward, hope it doesn’t take Zac long to come back to you.

“Sorry about this,” your eyes flick to the mans which are already on you. “I promise there’s not normally balls flying over the fence.”

“Doesn’t matter if they do,” he replies with a small smile.

Ok. That’s that topic exhausted then with no sign of Zac coming back.

“You enjoying the new house?”

He flicks his head to the side to look at the house in question as if to remember before looking back at you. “Yeah, it’s a great neighbourhood. House needs a lot of work, but I’ll get there.”

“Ah, yeah. I can’t imagine Lindsey and Ron having the same interior style as you.”

“You could say it’s a bit dated for me.”

You giggle, actually laugh at the words as if they’re some amazing joke. It’s more trying to picture this man, this big, buff, man with such a pretty smile living in a house that was previously occupied by two seventy years olds that you don’t think decorated since they moved in forty years ago.

You cut the laugh off short when you realise how odd you must look. The man’s smiling back at you, a different smile to any you’ve seen so far, one you’re sure is him questioning your sanity and who he’s living next to. You cough, shift your weight from foot to foot as you peak over his shoulder praying for Zac to hurry up.

“Well, you’ve certainly managed to tame the front garden.”

“Just the floral carpets to go then,” he smiles at you, his eyes glinting with what looks like a thousand lights.

“Well, if you need a hand with anything, I’m happy to help,” you regret the words as soon as they leave your lips. You really don’t need to get tied up with your neighbour. “Though I have no DIY knowledge, so would probably be no help.”

He doesn’t look put off by your obvious U-turn. “I’ll keep you in mind.”

And you’re screwed. Honestly, is that all it takes? A good-looking guy, some smiles at you and your son and a bit of kindness? Rosie is right, it’s been way too long if a simple smile turns you on.

“Mummy.”

And just like that it’s broken. You bite back the warning of being careful running down the cement paved ally with the ball in his hands. Instead, just smile at your beaming son.

“You found it. Good job. Now come on, I’m sure,” your words slope off, only just realising you have no idea what your neighbours name is.

You look up at him and he fills in your silence with his name, “Jungkook.”

“Right. I’m sure Jungkook has things to do,” you say to Zac. “What do we say now?”

Zac goes a little timid again, squeezing the ball to his chest. “Thank you,” he mumbles before twisting and running back to your house.

“Sorry,” you wince, turning back to Jungkook. “And thank you.”

“It was nothing.”

“Well, thanks anyway,” you grow awkward and decide now is the time to follow your sons lead. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

“I’m sure you will,” he smiles back at you.

Twisting you start walking back to your house, already trying to forget everything that just happened. When you’re safe in the walls of your house you pull your phone out and type out a message to Rosie.

This is why I didn’t want to meet my neighbour.

As usual, it only takes a few seconds for her response to come – you swear she’s attached to her phone.

Tell. Me. Everything.

There’s a knock on your door. You leave Zac colouring on the kitchen table so you can go answer it. You feel relaxed until you see who’s there. Your whole body going taunt at the sight of Jungkook at your door. Mind flicking through the possible reasons for him to be here.

“Hey, I was wondering if you wanted me to mow your lawns?”

It takes you aback, you’re pretty sure you might even recoil a little from the seemingly simple question. It might take a second but you end up smiling, have to bite your lip to hide how amused you are. It’s half due to how nervous he looks on your doorstep, but more because of Rosie and your conversation from when you first saw him. He must take your beat of silence the wrong way if his increased twitchiness is anything to go by.

“I was just doing mine and thought yours needed doing,” he almost cuts himself off in his haste to clarify. “Not that it looks bad or anything. Just that it could do with a cut. Or more that it saves you the job. And as I was already out doing mine, I thought it would –”

You properly laugh now. Loud enough to cut Jungkook’s ramblings off. He looks like he’s about to throw the towel in and head home but you stop him with a wave of your hand.

“Sorry,” you continue to laugh. “It’s just … of course you can mow my lawn.”

There’s a beat and then Jungkook’s face is turning more serious, a hint of amusement in his eyes as his head cocks to the side. Oh, god. Maybe that sounded like too much of an innuendo. You stand up straight, the laughter dying on your lips.

“I just mean I won’t be offended.”

“Ok,” he says, positions swapped, him amused and you awkward. “Need anything else doing while I’m here?”

“Uh,” you look behind you into the house as if to check before looking back at him. His smile seems to have grown in those few seconds. “Nope. I think we’re all good.”

“Just the lawns then,” he grins, seeming to relax into his position in your door.

“Just the lawns,” you squeak. “Please.”

He nods but still lingers. How does someone go from a rambling nervous mess to this? Though you’ve passed each other coming and going, this is the first time the two of you have properly spoken since Zac kicked his ball over the fence. You wouldn’t have predicted it would go like this.

“Want me to do the back too?”

You almost choke. “If it’s no trouble?”

He shrugs. “As I’m here.”

“Ok,” you look behind you again, for an escape, for a reason to look away from those shining eyes and cocky smile. You’re pretty sure he’s one of these guys that realises the effect he has on people and enjoys it. “Want me to bring you out a coffee or something?”

“I’m good. I’ll just get on with it.”

“Ok, well, thank you.”

“No problem, Y/N.”

You close the door and resist the urge to collapse on the floor.

“If you kick it too hard, you’re going to have to get it,” you warn as you do another light kick of the ball in Zac’s direction.

As if in spite of your words or maybe because it’s no fun not kicking the ball hard, Zac launches the ball in your direction. Still, you laugh as you manage to leap to the side and stop the ball before it goes off down the hill behind you.

“Maybe we should go and play in the back garden?”

“No,” Zac half screams the word. “There’s horrible fences there.”

He’s referencing the time he kicked the ball over the fence and then had to go collect it. Apparently it was such a jarring experience that he doesn’t like playing there anymore, though you would have thought being able to go in the neighbours garden would be exciting for him.

“Ok, then we have to kick a little softer.”

He follows your request a few times before once again deciding playing by your rules is boring. You let it go for a bit, giggling along with Zac as you leap and try and save each of his kicks. You do a few of your own rouge kicks just so he has to run a little and it gives you a minutes piece. Award for mum of the year over here.

You’re shouting something about how great one of Zac’s kicks is when you hear a door slam. You don’t think too much of it until you hear a voice shouting out.

“Already training for the Premier League?”

You look over to the voice and are met with a beaming Jungkook slowly walking towards you, baggy trousers and just as baggy a top blowing in the breeze. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him not smiling.

“I think we still have a way to go if that’s the aim,” you joke back, looking back at Zac just in time to see him kick a ball that goes miles to your right. Luckily, it’s not a missile like some of his others, but it still feels embarrassing having to jog after the ball with Jungkook now as an audience.

By the time you have the ball back in possession and are back to where you were once stood Jungkook is only meters away. Still smiling and you catch the end of him telling Zac what a great kick he just did. He goes shy, something you always find funny as he’s always a screaming ball of energy around you and other’s he knows, you love seeing this other side of him. Still, it means you need to hold the confidence for both of you.

“Is there room for one more?”

The question takes you off guard, even though he’s made the effort to walk the short distance to be stood here.

“Uh, sure,” you say then look at Zac. “That’s ok, isn’t it Zac?”

Zac doesn’t look sure but luckily he’s currently too shy to dispute you. You also don’t give him much time to disagree with you, lightly kick the ball in Zac’s direction before he can think.

He’s gentler when he kicks it back to you, his aim surprisingly good for once. You feel a small amount of pressure when you kick the ball to Jungkook, trying to include him. It feels like when you were once in school and were laughed at for throwing the rounders ball miles off the mark. It doesn’t go badly, though Jungkook has to step a little to his left to pick it up under his feet, he expertly flicks it between his feet and then knocks it on to Zac.

Zac looks mesmerised by the simple move that you’d never be able to replicate. You can see his nerves slowly cracking with a small smile going to his lips. He still kicks the ball to you, but as the game goes on and as you and Jungkook try to change the direction a few times, Zac finally completely lets loose.

He’s giggling and doing big kicks again. He’s laughing at Jungkook doing more little tricks with the ball before he kicks it on. And he even starts to shout little bits, imitating the words the Jungkook cries out, what a save, that was close, such a good touch.

Soon enough you’re out, you’ve lost your son to your neighbour and a football. Neither of them are kicking the ball anymore, their running at each other trying to do tackles. At least Jungkook seems to realise he’s playing a four-year-old and not someone his age, his tackles are light and he always kicks the ball a little too far and is a little too slow to pick it back up letting Zac get it.

“I’ll go get us some drinks,” you say to seemingly no one. But you don’t really care because your son looks so happy.

His laughs fill up the street as you make your way back to the house and when you look back you watch as Jungkook tackles him and lifts him up into the air, easily tossing him around in the sky making Zac laugh even harder.

You may take a little longer than necessary to make the drinks.

You’re out-front playing with Zac again. Well, less playing and more sat on the curb watching Zac play. You’ve had a day at work, still need to cook yours and Zac’s dinner but you promised you’d come out and do something first. Given Zac is a ball of energy it’s better to let him get all of that out now, so he’ll go to sleep earlier. That’s always the aim anyway, sometimes it’s just not the reality.

The back garden apparently isn’t good enough for him now. After playing out front and Jungkook joining him on more than one occasion you think he secretly hopes that’s going to happen every time. He doesn’t outright ask for it, but you know your son and you can see the utter joy whenever he gets to play with your neighbour.

You watch Zac run around with one of his teddy’s, rambling on about how the dinosaur is going to get them so they have to go to the volcano.

Even if you’re not necessarily playing with Zac, you love this time spent with him. It’s always just been the two of you and though that’s been hard at times, there’s never been a moment you’ve truly regretted it. You thought you loved his dad, but that was nothing compared to what you feel for Zac.

The sound of a car pulls your attention from Zac. It’s rounding the corner onto your road, still far enough and going slow enough to not panic you, but you know Zac will be oblivious.

“Zac,” you shout, standing up. “Zac. There’s a car coming, you have to wait on that side of the road for it to pass.”

Zac looks over at you, wide-eyed as he takes in the information. You can’t deny that your heart swells a little at the fact he so obediently runs to the side of the road, even picks the side that’s closest which is opposite you.

You smile at him as the car gets closer but it stops before reaching you. You can see the confusion on Zac’s face about what he should do. The car’s stopped but it’s still so close, is he allowed to continue to play?

“It’s ok Zac,” you say just as the door to the car opens.

Zac runs along the pavement for a second, obviously still not entirely sure, but when the car door opens, he must deem that good enough to know the car’s not going to move again and runs out into the road.

You watch him for a second before glancing at who got out the car. You smile at the woman you’ve never seen before. Dressed in a nice skirt and top, you shouldn’t be surprised when she makes her way to your neighbour’s house. You look away as she goes up his drive and rings the bell; it’s none of your business who Jungkook chooses to spend his time with.

Zac obviously doesn’t feel the same.

“Jungkook,” your son shouts out the name, the k sound more like a g and the last one isn’t pronounced so it sounds more like Jun-goo then anything.

Still your neighbour looks over at the shout. His guest too. Now stood on the doorway, in the middle of greeting each other. Jungkook instantly smiles while it takes the woman a second longer. You just feel mortified.

“Zac, darling, I think he has a guest.”

“But I want to play.”

You glance over at your neighbour’s front door; both are still looking at you and though you’re sure they can hear your conversation they seem to be having their own more silent conversation. You feel hot when you look back at Zac. Though you shouldn’t feel embarrassed, you somehow do.

“He can’t play right now because –”

You’re cut off by a scream that sounds like the name Jungkook as Zac goes running in his direction. Truly mortified now you turn to jog after him, calling his name as you go. You manage to catch up to him as he reaches Jungkook’s lawn, place a hand on his shoulder to try and settle him.

“Zac,” you say firmly but as quietly as you can. Jungkook and the woman can definitely here you, you’re only a few meters away, but you’d rather they didn’t. “You don’t run away from me like that and you don’t cut me off when I’m telling you something.”

He looks wide-eyed up at you, lip pouted as if there are about to be water works soon. He’s at the age where everything he asks, he assumes he can get. No isn’t a word unless he’s saying it. And when you tell him anything other than yes, he gets stroppy. It’s a cute age, but it’s tough.

“I just want to play,” Zac mumbles.

You hold your hands out in a silent question that he accepts. Leaning down you pick him up under the arms. It’s more like lifting some weights at the gym then the baby you once had but settled onto your hip and arms cuddling your side make it all worth it. You’re about to speak words of comfort to him before apologising to Jungkook and his guest but a different voice changes that.

“It’s ok,” you look up to see Jungkook stepping towards you, the girl in his entry way looking at you over his shoulder. “I’d love to play with you too, Zac, but I can’t right now. Can I maybe play with you a different night?”

You feel Zac’s head nod against your chest where it’s lay. You run a soothing hand down his arm while you shoot Jungkook an apologetic look.

“You really don’t have to do –”

“No, I mean it. I love playing with Zac.”

You doubt the twenty something year old really enjoys playing with your four-year-old son. Especially as it has just become apparent he has a girlfriend. But the way he says it and the way he smiles; you can almost believe it.

“Well, we need to get in and cook dinner anyway don’t we, Zac.”

There’s another small nod against you and you look between Jungkook and the girl again. You feel so incredibly awkward, though Jungkook looks a little worried if anything.

“Sorry, for ruining the start of your evening,” you say to them both, twisting and carrying Zac back to your house before you can gain a reply. You’ll distract Zac with food. Your own embarrassment might be harder to hide.

“Hey, let me help you with that.”

The weights that were your shopping bags are lifted out of your hands before you can protest. Soft, warm fingers run along yours to grasp the handles and then they’re gone. You turn to look at the man responsible.

“Jungkook, you really don’t have to,” but it’s like you’re talking to a wall, or more a back, as Jungkook has already turned and is heading to your front door.

“You get the others and it’ll be done in half the time,” he says over his shoulder.

You huff, still not exactly happy with the assumption you needed help, but you don’t audibly protest as you pick up the last remaining bag and follow Jungkook.

“You really don’t have to –”

“Just unlock the door,” Jungkook cuts you off, giving you a small smile and adding. “These bags are starting to get heavy.”

You roll your eyes as you do as asked, placing your bag on the floor before unlocking your front door and letting Jungkook in. He waits for you to come in before he follows you to the kitchen.

“You can just place them here,” you say before turning to look at him.

He’s all smiles again and you’re not sure why you’re so irked by the whole thing. You should be thanking him, but it’s more about what he’s slowly started to make you realise. Zac doesn’t have a man in his life and Jungkook creeping in even in these small ways has made you see how much that might be affecting him. Jungkook hasn’t done much, he’s played football out front with your son, he’s smiled and told him jokes in passing, he’s asked him a few simple questions about his life. And yet your son has lit up with every interaction.

It's ever since the incident the other day when Zac went running to him that got you thinking. You thought you were embarrassed because it looked like you couldn’t control your child, but since you’ve realised that it’s more because you’d started to get used to Jungkook in the same small ways as Zac and seeing him with a woman, presumably his girlfriend, made you realise that Jungkook probably doesn’t feel the same way. You’re just his neighbour and Zac’s just a cute kid. It’s not like you’re dating, or he owes you anything, but having had no help outside your family and Rosie since Zac was born has made even the small gestures massive.

You thought you were enough for Zac. You knew that you were possibly stopping him from experiencing something by staying single or not letting any of the men you’d dated briefly into Zac’s life, but you didn’t think it would matter. And yet so little from Jungkook has shown you how much it can mean.

You don’t mean to be rude or short with him, but these simple acts of kindness are starting to feel like an agenda. Like he’s out to prove that you’re not everything Zac needs.

You can make your son happy on your own. You can play ball with him and have fun and ask him questions about what he likes. You can carry bags into your house on your own; you’ve cooked and cleaned and worked and kept yours and Zac’s lives together longer than Jungkook’s been around. And yet Zac has never run to you the way he ran to Jungkook the other day.

“Zac not here today?”

“His Nan is looking after him.”

You can sense him looking down at you as you start to unpack your shopping. “That must be nice for them both.”

“Yep,” you say popping the p. “Certainly is.”

The silence elongates, tension rising in the gap. You can sense Jungkook watching you even though you don’t look at him as you start to unpack your food. You hear his feet shuffle on the lino floor and can see him leaning against the door frame out of the corner of your eye.

You should break it, should say something and stop being so childish, but you find you can’t, the longer it goes on the more it builds in your head. It’s as if every male that’s been in your life who hasn’t been interested in meeting Zac, everyone that you didn’t feel comfortable meeting Zac, every insecurity you had about stopping Zac from having the chance of a male figure in his life, has built up into Jungkook.

Still, you don’t ask him to leave, don’t say anything, just silently unpack as Jungkook watches you.

“Is everything alright?” It’s Jungkook that finally speaks.

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You just seem a little upset is all.”

“I’m fine.”

“Ok. Let me clarify, you seem a little upset with me,” he pauses, when you don’t reply he carries on. “Have I done something to annoy you?”

“Nothing,” you say finally looking at him.

“Just tell me Y/N,” he looks a little pissed himself now and you realise how unfair you’re being. You can think all these things and build it up in your head and realise how stupid you’re being, but to take it out on Jungkook and then not explain why; that’s not fair.

“I just don’t appreciate you coming in and treating me like I can’t lift some shopping bags on my own is all.”

“I never said you couldn’t do it alone. I offered you help.”

“Yeah, ok, it’s fine. I’m overreacting,” you say in a tone to imply the opposite.

“No, come on. That’s not everything, what is it?”

You pause, wondering how much to tell him. “I’ve been looking after myself and Zac far longer than I’ve known you.”

“I know that.”

“So you can stop coming into our lives and being Mr Perfect,” you wave your hands at his whole person at the words.

He laughs, shaking his head. “Mr Perfect?”

“Carrying my shopping in and playing with Zac and acting like you have your whole life together and we don’t.”

“I really don’t know how you got that impression. My life isn’t together. And I enjoy playing with Zac and being around you, but if you’re uncomfortable with that then I can stop.”

You sigh, mentally slap yourself as you twist and pull a chair out. Plonking yourself down you run a hand down your face. When you make eye contact with Jungkook again his face still holds annoyance, but he looks a little softer now.

“Sorry,” you start, body slumping with the all the fight leaving you. “I’m being ridiculous. You don’t make me uncomfortable playing with Zac, I guess I just realised how much he’s grown to like you and yet I hardly know you.” You pause then add with a small smile. “Though you really do look like you have your whole life together.”

Your comment seems to be enough to break the tension. Jungkook chuckles again, this time looking more genuine. He takes the couple of steps to close the distance between you and pulls a chair out so he can sit.

“Well, the first thing I can tell you is I really do not have my life together,” he doesn’t speak as loudly now you’re sat with no background clattering and the wide smile he shoots you has you looking down at your lap to hide your smile. “And you know, maybe we should get to know each other better. We’re neighbours for one, but I honestly do love Zac and if it would make you feel more comfortable then I can do a whole DBS check.”

You look at him, smile wider on your face. He seems to relax at the look, less tense now you’re no longer being annoyed with him.

“You don’t have to do a DBS check,” you assure him. “I guess it’s just been a really long day and my insecurities got the better of me. Sorry.”

“Really?”

“What? Been a long day or are you struggling to believe I have insecurities?”

His eyebrow lifts and you swear his cheeks tint pink. “Well, both I guess.”

“I arrived at work to a snotty email from someone telling me how to do my job and then I didn’t have time to buy lunch so had to have one of the crappy cafeteria sandwiches. To top it all off I had to go food shopping, arguably one of the worst chores.”

Jungkook smiles, nods and waits. You’d kind of hoped you’d be able to sweep the whole insecurities bit under the rug. Guess Jungkook is taking the whole getting to know each other seriously.

“As for insecurities,” you begin, words elongated as you grow more awkward. “I mean doesn’t everyone have them? But, uh, yeah. I mean Zac’s dad has never been in his life and I’ve never properly dated anyone since having him, or at least never thought anyone was good enough to introduce him to. And I’ve always wondered if I’m somehow stopping him from having a second parent.”

Jungkook cocks his head to the side. A small movement as if he’s deep in thought at your comment. Before he can say anything though you let out a small laugh and try to move on.

“Anyway, at least I have lots of food in the house now.”

“Zac’s not missing out on anything.”

The smile dies on your lips. The words are so deadly seriously. Like he means every word. You feel yourself heating even though he’s probably just saying it because he thinks it’s what you want to hear.

“You’re an amazing mum, Y/N. Zac isn’t missing out on anything by just having one parent.”

“Thanks,” you continue to flush. “You really don’t have to say that, but thanks anyway.”

“I don’t have to say it. But I mean it.”

“Well, ok, thanks. Moving on,” you say. “Can I get you something to drink to fully apologise?”

“I wouldn’t say no to a tea.”

You nod, getting up to turn the kettle on. You’ve got an hour of your mum looking after Zac before you’ve got to pick him up. Time you were hoping to spend on tasks you actually need to get done around the house. You can’t retract your offer though and as you settle into easy conversation you find you don’t want to.

An hour passes easily with your neighbour. Laughing and drinking your teas you find you have more in common than you’d have guessed. He’s a similar age to you, took the house on next door because it was within budget, big and something he could easily do up. You normally find that people around your age feel so different in age, are at different stage in their lives as you have so much responsibility in looking after Zac and they’ve just got themselves. But Jungkook feels different. It’s still just him and you can tell by some of the things he says that he’s considering things in his life you couldn’t, but he’s bought a house, has committed to doing it up, has a steady job he wants to progress in. He’s settled. It’s small things but you find your respect towards him grows as well as the amount you like him.

An hour later, you leave him with a wave as you head to your car and he takes the short walk back to his house.

“Oh, who’s that?”

You fight the urge to look as soon as the words leave Rosie’s mouth. You still don’t want to appear too keen around her. Though you and Jungkook have grown closer, there’s still nothing between you and you still don’t want her getting the wrong impression.

“Who’s who?” You ask, playing oblivious.

She waves you over, doesn’t even turn to look at you. She’s in much the same position as when you first spied Jungkook. Body leaning over the back of the sofa, face almost pressed against the glass of your front window. If anyone were to look at your house, her face would be front and centre and while you imagine you’d die at being caught watching your neighbours so plainly, you imagine Rosie wouldn’t care, she’d probably wave at them.

“Just come look. Some girl is going to Jungkook’s.”

“Oh right, that’s probably his girlfriend,” you say flatly, unbothered, though you still make your way over to where she’s sat to take a look yourself.

“He has a girlfriend?”

The question goes straight through you as you watch the girl in question walking up his drive. Ok, maybe it’s not his girlfriend because this girl has different coloured hair, her skin is slightly darker, she’s shorter, just as beautiful as the other girl you saw, but she is not the same person.

“Of course he has the hottest girlfriend.”

The words pang even though you shouldn’t care, you shouldn’t even be looking out the window at her, yet you find yourself leaning forward to get a better angle to try and see Jungkook’s front door. Is he there? How’s he going to greet her?

“That’s not his girlfriend,” you reply.

“What? He’s cheating on her?” Rosie’s interest peaks, if possible.

“No. I mean, I don’t know,” you try to explain, Rosie looking at you with a frown. “I don’t know if he has a girlfriend. Someone came to his house the other week and I just assumed, but that’s not her.”

Rosie hums, focus going back outside. “Well, that makes sense.”

“It does?”

“A man that hot does not just settle down. He’s a player.”

“Right,” you say flatly, trying to keep the disappointment out of your voice.

“And I mean, with a body like that, why wouldn’t he?”

“Careful not to get your drool on my window,” you say as you push yourself to stand, no longer interested in watching whatever’s happening out front.

You go back to whatever you were doing before, trying to get the image of the girl out of your mind. You shouldn’t care. But it only seems to add to everything in your mind, becomes another reason in your mind to not get too close to the man.

“Who the hell talked me into this?” You mutter to yourself as you apply the last bit of lip gloss.

Stepping back, looking at yourself in the mirror, you have to admit you scrub up nice. When you make a bit of an effort you don’t look half bad.

You’ve not been on a proper date in a couple of months. Life has been busy and it’s not been top of your list of things to do, but when someone at work said they knew someone they thought you’d get on with you reluctantly said you’d meet them. Maybe not reluctant, you’re excited to date, to have a night out with someone that isn’t Rosie, to enjoy yourself. There’s just still niggles in your mind about the whole thing.

You’ve still got half an hour before you need to leave. Your taxi booked, completely dressed and ready to go, Zac in bed, all you need now is Rosie to turn up to baby sit for a few hours.

You’ve only managed to take a single breath to try and calm yourself and have a couple of sips of the glass of wine you decided to pour yourself when your phone rings. Rosie’s name pops up on your screen and you smile as you answer it.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to be late.”

“Uh, worse, possibly.”

You sit up straight, move your glass of wine so you don’t accidentally knock it. “What do you mean possibly?”

“Ok, definitely,” Rosie sounds nervous, and you’re not surprised given the desire to kill her right about now. “But, honestly, it’s unavoidable. My car’s died and I thought I could get a taxi but the quote I got was for £50 one way and I’m not saying you’re not worth it, but, on top of it all my mum called and she’s not feeling great and I just thought I’d see if you really need me or if someone else could possibly step in, just for tonight?”

You resist the urge to wipe a hand down your face or pull at your hair; you’d just spent ages so you could look like this. But it sounds like it doesn’t even matter, the date obviously wasn’t supposed to happen. You check the clock, it’s still twenty minutes until your taxi should arrive, still forty minutes until your date.

“I’ll cancel, it’s fine, go be with your mum.”

“What? No, don’t cancel.”

“What am I supposed to do instead?”

“Can’t your mum look after Zac instead?”

“She has book club tonight.”

“Your brother?” She says, her tone already implying she doesn’t hold much hope there.

“Away on business.”

“What about someone from work?”

“Rosie. Honestly, it’s fine.”

“Jungkook,” the name throws you so off you don’t respond immediately. “What about Jungkook?”

“I can’t ask my neighbour to look after my son.”

“Why? They seem to get on great and Zac will be asleep the whole time anyway.”

“He’s probably busy.”

“But you don’t know. You should go ask before you rule him out.”

You chew at the inside of your cheek, torn. You really don’t want to ask Jungkook, but Rosie makes a good point. She seems to cotton onto the weakness and pushes.

“Please, Y/N. I feel so guilty that you might have to cancel this date because of me. I’d ask Jungkook myself, but I don’t have his number. I could find him on Facebook though, just have to hope he sees the message in time but I’m –”

“Ok,” you blurt to stop her.

“Ok? You want me to message him?”

“No,” you sigh, not believing what you’re about to say. “I’ll go round and see if he’s free.”

You can almost see the beaming smile that Rosie is surely sporting. She doesn’t let you hang around on the phone for much longer now you’ve made the decision she wanted. A quick comment to let her know how it goes and a goodbye and she’s gone.

Your eyes flick to the clock as if it’s going to hold some sort of information that’ll help you out. It doesn’t. Just tells you what you already know; you have less than fifteen minutes till your taxi arrives.

Nerves at an all time high you decide the whole thing will only take five minutes either way so Zac is ok in bed. Leaving the door open, you make the short trip from your house to Jungkook’s.

Are you really doing this?

You can hear the noise of the doorbell going around the house. It seems you are doing it.

Sweat builds on your palms. Heat seems to leave your body while gathering in your face. Your throat feels so tight that you wonder if you’ll be able to get any words out if Jungkook answers. Seconds feel like minutes and then when you hear his footsteps approaching they seem to thunder.

The door swings open. You watch in silence as his face goes from curious, to eyes wide in recognition, to a steady sweep of your body. His eyes are still wide when they meet yours but there’s something else in them now as well as a slight flush to his cheeks.

You’re too nervous to take much notice.

“Hey,” you start, but begin talking too fast for Jungkook to say anything. “So, I know this is asking a lot and I want to say straight away that if you’re busy, or if you just don’t want to then please don’t feel like you have to say yes. But I have a date tonight, hence the outfit, and my childcare has cancelled on me and I was wondering, if you’re free, if you could maybe look after Zac? All you’d have to do it is just sit downstairs and listen out for if he wakes up. Again, it’s fine if you don’t want to.”

His cheeks are still pink but there’s a smile on his face now. You honestly have no idea what he’s going to say.

“Y/N, I honestly don’t mind looking after Zac while you go on your date.”

The shock, the relief, the surprise; whatever he see’s pass your face makes a low chuckle leave his lips.

“Do I need to bring anything with me?”

“Uh, no. Not unless there’s something you need?”

His smile is gentle and kind as he looks at you. “Let me just grab my keys so I can lock up.”

You wait the few seconds it takes for him to grab his keys and then watch as he locks his door. You still feel weird as you wait for him, still nervous just in a different way now.

It’s silent as you walk side by side back to your house. You feel unable to look at Jungkook, though you can feel him glancing at you.

“You look nice by the way.”

“Oh, thanks,” your nerves seem to give Jungkook confidence.

“Where’s your date?”

“Just at The Botanist.”

“That’ll be nice. Is it a first date or ..?”

“Yep, first date,” you say as you enter your house. “So, there’s drinks in the fridge and help yourself to any food you find.”

“You might regret saying that,” Jungkook jokes but you’re struggling to find much funny with your emotions all over the place at the moment.

“And I’ll give you my number if anything goes wrong. Like I said he shouldn’t wake up but if he does you can give him some hot milk or read him a book.”

“We’ll be fine, Y/N,” Jungkook’s voice is calm as he leans against the wall and watches you shuffle around the room. “If Zac wakes up, I’m sure I’ll cope. I’m sure I’ll be able to find anything I need and work the TV. My house is literally meters away and like you said I can just call you if I need.”

You still feel almost shaky. You trust Jungkook but it’s one thing to leave him playing with your son for ten minutes out front and wholly different to leave him home alone for a few hours. Still, you trust him and know he’ll be fine.

“Just go and enjoy your date,” Jungkook continues. “Are you nervous?”

“I – yeah,” you admit. “It’s my first date in a while.”

“Well, you really do look great. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Thanks, Jungkook,” you say softly, meaning it for so many different reasons.

“It’s fine. Now, go on, get out of here.”

You do one last sweep of the room, slip your shoes on at the door and the linger for a second. Jungkook’s already made himself at home on the sofa, smile still on his face as he watches you. Your hand pauses on the door. It still feels weird to be leaving. But you give Jungkook a nod and head out the door.

Your key slips on the lock. You sway gently side to side. Closing your eyes, you take a long, slow breath. When you open your eyes, the world is still spinning.

You try the key again. Fingers fumble, it takes a second, but you manage to get the key where you need it. You turn the key, but it doesn’t go as far as you expect. Your hand goes to the handle, you pull down and tumble forward into your house.

Giggling you pull your key out of the door. Why did you think the door was locked? Of course it wasn’t locked.

You bite your lip as you right yourself and try not to slam the door closed. You need to be quiet, Zac’s asleep upstairs and you’d hate to be the reason for waking him up.

You make the mistake of trying to balance on one foot as you take your shoe off. It doesn’t last much longer than a second, you sway so hard that you have to throw your arm out to grab the wall so you don’t wipe out on the floor. You keep hold of the wall as you safely remove your shoes this time.

Shoving your bag on the table by your door you close your eyes for a second, take another breath and then will yourself to go get a glass of water before bed.

It takes you far longer than it should to realise you’re being watched. Are stumbling through your living room to your kitchen when you spot him and you jump in the air.

“Fuck,” you curse, clutching a hand to your heart. “Jungkook. What the hell?”

“Have you had a nice night?”

You huff, a noise that sounds half like a no and half like a yes. “It was ok.”

Jungkook laughs and moves on the sofa so he’s sat up straighter. “That sounds like a rave review.”

You close your eyes and throw your head back. Water forgotten you move towards Jungkook instead, plopping down on the sofa next to him. Your eyes feel heavy but you feel awake enough to talk to Jungkook for a while.

“It was good.”

“But?” Jungkook turns towards you as you lean your head back on the cushions.

“Just that it was just good.”

Jungkook hums and you turn your head on your neck to look at him. He’s closer than you thought but it doesn’t make you pull away from him, however much that wide smile makes your heart stutter.

“You must know what I mean.”

His head cocks to the side. “And why would that be?”

“Because you’re always going off on dates,” the alcohol is loosening your lips, you’d never say anything of this if you hadn’t drunk.

“How much have you had to drink?” He laughs.

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “It was two for one.”

“So that’s what made it a good night?”

You giggle, the noise escaping you with little to no warning. “No, the guy was nice too.”

“Was that opinion formed before or after the alcohol was consumed?”

This time you reach round and slap his arm as you laugh. It pushes you closer to him, the knee you have folded on the sofa pushing into his leg. Your hand lingers on his arm and he doesn’t push you away. You feel the heat coming off him and realise what you’re doing. You pull away and the heat transfers from your hand to your face.

“God, sorry, maybe I’m more drunk than I thought.”

You pull away, twist so you’re facing forward again. Now you think about it your head is really spinning. Looking after Zac tomorrow is going to be fun.

“Want me to get you some water?” Jungkook’s asking the question even as he stands to do just that.

You watch him walk away from you and disappear into the kitchen. He looks so at home.

You close your eyes again and rest your head against the back of the sofa. Water sounds good, maybe it’ll clear your head a little, because now you think about it, being drunk and loose lipped around Jungkook probably isn’t the best decision.

“Here you go.”

A pint of water is in front of you when you open your eyes. You sit up straighter, hold your hand out to take the glass and then down nearly half of it before taking sips from it instead. Jungkook is still stood in front of you, a small smile on his lips as he looks down at you.

“Better?” You nod at the question and Jungkook’s lip curls at the edge. “You ok to look after Zac like this?”

“I’m not that drunk.”

“Ok,” he says with a small laugh, as if he doesn’t quite believe you. “I’ll leave you and Zac alone then.”

He only moves a little, is only standing up straighter, but the movement coupled with the words is enough for you to panic and reach out and grab his hand. Or more grab his wrist. And because he doesn’t move you can slip your fingers lower and land on their intended target.

“Wait. Don’t go.”

His smile has slipped now, his face flat as he stares down at you. He’s not gripping your hand back. You suddenly feel a lot more sober, feel like you’ve made a mistake.

“You’ve not told me how your night was yet,” you say in a much softer tone, your hand slipping out of his.

“I haven’t heard anything from Zac. I even went to look in his room to make sure he was actually there. He’s been fast asleep while I’ve watched trash TV all night.”

You nod, feel like you’re turning into a nodding dog at this point. But you don’t know what else to say. You’ve just asked him to stay and that short, closed sentence is clearly him telling you he’s heading home.

“Well, thanks so much for looking after him.”

“It was no trouble.”

You look up at him, wait for him to move, to leave you sat here alone. But he still doesn’t. It gives you enough confidence to keep talking, or maybe the silence is just eating too much into you that you feel a need to fill it.

“Do you want me to pay you?”

His eyebrows shoot up his head and you giggle, realising what he must be thinking and go on to clarify.

“I mean for babysitting.”

“Oh, no. I was only going to be sat next door doing the same thing anyway.”

“Right,” you swallow, mind whirling. “Well, I still feel a need to pay you back some way.”

“You really don’t need to do anything.”

“But you’ve done so much for me and Zac since moving in.”

“I’ve told you before I like playing with Zac.”

“And the mowing our grass?”

“It only makes sense when I’m already doing mine.”

“What if I want to pay you back?”

“I don’t want anything from you.”

“Nothing?”

He pauses, his eyes dark as he looks down at you. The air seems to thicken and though you don’t know how, you know you’ve got him.

His eyes follow as you push yourself to stand up. He doesn’t move to give you space as you come toe to toe with him. His eyes flick around your face as yours remain steady on his. You don’t touch him straight away, but you get close enough that all you’d need to do is lean forward and you’d be against him.

The silence feels loud now, both of you holding your ground, the anticipation rising.

“Are you sure you want this?” He swallows his eyes flicking to your lips.

Subconsciously you sweep your tongue along your bottom lip and are rewarded with Jungkook unable to take his eyes off the movement.

If you were completely sober maybe you wouldn’t be so brash. If you hadn’t just been on a rubbish date, thinking about how much better it could be if only the person sat opposite you was the man currently stood in front of you, maybe you wouldn’t be this bold. If Jungkook hadn’t been so kind, so thoughtful, so good looking, maybe you wouldn’t be doing what you’re about to do, maybe you’d be thinking twice about what a mistake it could turn out to be.

You close the gap, move slowly to let Jungkook back away if he wants. But he doesn’t. When you’re close enough, he places his hands on your hips and pulls you into him.

He tastes salty, like crisps. His lips mould to yours the way your body moulds against his. Your back arches up into him, his hand goes to the small of your back and his tongue slips into your mouth.

“Are you sure about this?” Jungkook whispers again.

You don’t have time to answer, now you’ve kissed him, you want all of him. You twist both of you so that when you push yourself into him and he has to take a step back, his knees hit the sofa. His eyes are wide, full of surprise as he lowers himself backwards. You don’t let yourself be shocked, this is so unlike you, but honestly you don’t care or overthink it.

Placing a knee either side of Jungkook you straddle him, place your lips back on his as you grind down into him. His hands fall to your hips again, squeeze the flesh there every time you drag yourself over his length. You can feel him, all of him, hard and long, pushing up against his joggers and right into you.

You need him. Now.

All rational goes out the window as you push yourself up enough to try and push his trousers down. Before you can get very far, Jungkook’s hands are encompassing your wrists, stopping you. He doesn’t seem angry when you look at him, there’s only an amused smile on his lips.

“What’s the rush?”

“I –” you pause, it’s enough time for you to come back to reality and realise how desperate you must look right now. You plop yourself backwards, sit on Jungkook’s knees as his hands slip from your wrists to encompass your hands. “I don’t know. Sorry.”

He pulls your forward enough to kiss your lips. You can feel the smile is still there.

“Let me at least go get a condom,” he mumbles.

You let out an embarrassed huff of air, your face scrunching in mortification while Jungkook just chuckles. He moves his hands to your hips, pushes you up and then gently gets you to lay on the sofa while he stands. You look up at him, embarrassed, but still don’t want him to leave.

“I’ll only be a minute,” he says before disappearing from view.

You’re left in the silence of your own embarrassment. Lay on the sofa you keep replaying the last ten minutes over in your head. Sure, it was great, kissing Jungkook has definitely exceeded expectations so far. But what must he think of you? Pouncing on him after a failed date.

You place your hands over your face and let out a small groan, missing the noise of the front door quietly closing.

“Don’t tell me you carried on without me?”

You peel your hands off your face, look up surprised to see Jungkook back. Part of you honestly thought that was an excuse to up and run. But there he is, beaming down at you, small foil packet in hand.

“You still wanna?” His voice drifts off, unsure.

You’re still in shock. But a quick glance down shows that he isn’t lying. His trousers are still straining at the groin.

You look back at his face, suddenly feeling very hot. You nod. Jungkook smiles.

“Good,” he mutters before taking his top off. “Because you still owe me.”

You watch as he takes his trousers off, leaving him only in his boxers. And then he kneels before you. Hand on either knee, he twists you so that your feet hit the floor and you’re sat in front of him. As he toys with the hem of your dress, you dutifully lift your arms to let him know he can take it off.

His eyes are near black, focused purely on your chest and the light lace that is covering you, when your dress is on the floor.

“Were you hoping to go home with him?” His voice is as dark as his voice, a husky quality to it that has you clenching around nothing.

“No,” you say honestly, the word enough to have Jungkook drag his eyes up to yours. “I wore it to feel good.”

He nods. His eyes flicking back down to admire your body. You feel good, slightly self-conscious but you must admit that it feels nice to have Jungkook look at you with that much lust on his face.

His hands reach out, lightly run down your sides at the same rate as his eyes. He toys with your lacy pants for a second, eyes flicking up to yours before he starts to pull them down. You lift yourself up a little to help him and then they’re joining your dress on the floor.

Your breaths come out faster. Your head leaning back into your sofa as Jungkook places his hands on your knees and pushes them apart.

How is this happening?

You can’t believe this is happening.

You can’t pull your eyes away from the sight of Jungkook’s head moving towards you. You swear you’ve had a wet dream about it. And now it’s happening.

His tongue is just as delicate as his fingers as he swipes it through your folds. His hands hold firm on your knees as you try to clamp them together around his head. You can feel his smile as his lips go to your clit, his tongue drawing patterns of the bundles of nerves.

When he deems it safe to, one of his hands moves from your knee and with his lips still on your clit, he begins to push into your entrance.

Your hand flies to his head, pushing him further into you while fisting the strands of hair on his head. You moan at the ceiling and push your hips further into Jungkook.

It feels amazing. He feels amazing.

When he pushes another finger into you the coil in your stomach only grows tighter. You moan out again and then realise that the two of you aren’t alone in this house.

“We’ve got to be quiet. Zac’s upstairs,” your voice is breathy, almost husky.

There’s a mumbled noise against your skin, hopefully in recognition of what you’ve said. And despite your words it’s you that’s the noisiest. You can’t help it, however hard you try Jungkook’s lips around your clit and his fingers inside you make it impossible.

You can feel his lips turn into a smile when you let out a particularly loud noise. You wouldn’t care if it wasn’t for the fact that Jungkook pulls away from you. His fingers still in you, his face looking up at you with a certain smugness.

“How we going to get you to be quiet then?”

As if to prove his point you moan out when his fingers push deeply into you. He chuckles, you frown at him. Hands reaching up, you have to push yourself off the sofa a little to wrap them around his neck to pull him up off the floor and into you.

“Like this,” you say before attaching your lips to his.

This time when you moan out it’s swallowed by Jungkook’s mouth.

He expertly works you both sideways, fingers still in you as he manoeuvres you to lay down on the sofa with him hovering over you.

His hand doesn’t become enough. There’s pleasure there still, but you want more, you want all of him. He didn’t go all the way back to his for a condom for nothing.

Placing a hand on his shoulder you get him to pull away from you. “Where’s the condom?”

It takes a second for him to understand, but then he’s doing a scramble to find it. He finds it between the layers of your dress. As you tear it open, he pushes his boxers down. You try not to be intimidated by his size, because as he rolls down himself that’s all you can think.

He is fucking massive.

Jungkook looks smug when you look back at him, as if he’s seen where you were looking and read what you were thinking. You roll your eyes as you pull him back down to kiss you.

“Just shove it in already,” you mumble against his lips, earning a chuckle from him.

He reaches between your bodies, runs his tip through your folds and pushes just the tip inside you. You moan and arch up into him. It already feels like a lot.

“Sure you can handle it?” He jokes, confirming he knew what you were thinking earlier.

You think he probably has a point. But the desire to prove him wrong, or at least wipe the smug smile off his face, is larger. Wrapping your legs around him, you push him down deeper into you as you push your hips up. He must only move a couple of inches, but it’s enough. This time it’s him, not you, that lets a moan out and you don’t have to encourage him to sink the rest of the way in.

There’s a small pause in movement. Your breaths the only noise in the room. You realise you still have your bra on when you feel Jungkook’s chest move along yours. But then he’s placing his lips against yours and delicately kissing you. Softly and slowly, he begins to move.

It’s not the rough, heavy sex you’d imagined. He doesn’t toss you around, or man handle you. He’s slow as he pulls out and though there’s power behind each thrust in, it’s still not rough. A thought flicks through your mind, it’s more like making love than having sex. The thought there one second and then gone when Jungkook thrusts back into you.

It feels good. His lips still on yours, his thrusts building up that feeling inside you, the small moans he keeps letting out only driving you closer to oblivion.

It doesn’t take long. It’s no surprise. Even if his body didn’t look the way it did, his cock is big enough that he wouldn’t need to have much skill to make anyone feel good. But, as if to make it completely unfair, he knows what he’s doing, knows exactly how fast to go, exactly how deep to push into you, knows where to touch and where to kiss to drive you completely insane.

When you come, you come hard. You become a mess in his arms. He swallows every one of your moans as he thrusts a couple more times and then you feel him twitching in you, his own moans rumbling through his chest.

Still inside you, he rolls you so you can lay side by side. You should go to the loo, should put some clothes on or something. But when Jungkook reaches up to pull a blanket off the back of the sofa over the top of you, you find it hard to even keep your eyes open.

You were hoping Jungkook would be gone before Zac woke up, but when you hear the small feet thundering down the stairs all you can think is how happy you are you both have clothes on.

Zac jumps off the last three steps, a habit you tried to stop early but probably only encouraged him. He runs nearly as far as the kitchen before he realises there’s someone other than you sat on the sofa. He’s too surprised to say anything straight away, his eyes wide as they stare straight at Jungkook.

“Have you brushed your teeth?” You draw his eyes to you. He pauses then with a guilty look nods. “Have you?” You get another less delayed nod. “Come here then.”

He doesn’t move, he knows he’s been caught out. You raise an eyebrow at him and he tries his hardest to hide his smile but fails.

“Go and clean your teeth and I’ll make you breakfast. What do you want?”

His eyes flick to Jungkook before settling back on you. “Why’s Jungkook here?”

Your heart stops before starting at a more rapid pace. “He just slept here last night.”

“You had a sleepover?” He looks hurt as if you purposefully left him out.

“No, well, yes, but it was nothing Zac.” You can feel the way Jungkook tenses next to you, and you know if you were to look at him, he’d be stifling a laugh. “Just go brush your teeth.”

He pauses a second longer, eyes continue to flicking between you but one look at your stern face has him moving back to the stairs.

“And what do you want for breakfast?” You shout after him.

“A ham sandwich, crisps and sausage roll.”

“That’s lunch,” you shout but don’t get a response.

Zac fully out of view now, Jungkook lets out his laugh. When you turn to point your frown at him, you’re met with his face a lot closer than you’d thought. Without much thought he leans in and places his lips against yours. When you stiffen and try to look over your shoulder to double check you really are alone, Jungkook’s hand goes to your head to stop you.

“It’s fine,” he whispers before pressing one last kiss on your lips and drawing away.

You remain stiff even as Jungkook removes himself to a safe distance. It’s just that you’re not used to this. Sure, the morning after stuff is awkward but it’s more that Jungkook looks so relaxed in what should be an incredibly awkward situation.

“You going to go make that ham sandwich?” He smiles at you.

“You going to head off?” You counter.

He raises an eyebrow. “Do I not also get breakfast?”

“Do you want breakfast.”

“Uh, yeah?” He chuckles as if it’s obvious.

You could ask him to leave you guess, but after a moments pause you figure there’s really no reason. Your main worry was Zac seeing him here, but that’s happened now anyway. There really isn’t any reason to force him to leave.

Standing up, you head to the kitchen, Jungkook following in your wake.

“Scrambled eggs on toast?” You ask, already getting the ingredients out, heading to the counter with them.

Jungkook comes up behind you when you’re cracking one of the eggs. His body presses into your back and he leans round to place his head on your shoulder so he can watch what you’re doing. When you twist to ask what he’s doing he only sees it as an opportunity to kiss you.

“Jungkook?” You ask, pulling away.

“What?” He chuckles, staying where he is.

“Zac could walk in any second.”

“I’ll hear him coming down the stairs, it’s fine.”

You’re not as sure and while it’s one thing for Zac to see Jungkook here early, it’s wholly different for him to see him all over you like this. Jungkook seems to get the idea and with a smile and another quick kiss he peels himself off you.

You would never have thought Jungkook the clingy type. But then you wouldn’t have guessed he’d have been so soft with you last night too, so maybe you just have to realise all your assumptions about the man are probably wrong.

Feeling flustered you focus back on your eggs. And when you hear Zac’s feet running down the stairs you realise how unprepared you are for this breakfast.

“Have you washed your hands?” You say over your shoulder.

“What’s Jungkook doing here?”

“I’ve already told you that. Have you washed your hands?”

One glance over your shoulder tells you enough. They’re the words you say before every meal and every time you get the same guilty look. Before you can tell him to go and wash them though, Jungkook’s speaking.

“I haven’t done mine either. Maybe you could show me where the sink is?”

You catch the small nod Zac does before he’s zooming off. Eyes still on the door you miss the fact that Jungkook walks over to you before following Zac and can only freeze when he presses a light kiss to your cheek.

“See, I’ve got this,” he says cockily before disappearing after Zac.

You remain frozen for a few more seconds before realising the eggs are catching and you still need to butter the toast.

Though you’ve managed the whole, looking after a toddler while also doing one hundred other things, it’s not wasted on you how much of a help Jungkook is. He occupies the time it takes for you to get breakfast ready and then helps Zac lay the table for you. He keeps up an easy conversation over the food. And then, when you start to clear up he easily takes Zac out of the way and entertains him for a bit before coming back to help you.

They’re small things, stuff you wouldn’t have even picked up on before Zac was around. But you can’t deny that his easy smiles, coupled with watching him wipe down the table really gets you going. You really are a mum.

“Oh shit,” you moan, body creeping up the bed.

Jungkook only grunts in return, his hands tightening on your hips to stop you from moving away from him. With the way he’s slamming himself into you, it doesn’t help and you continue to move up the bed.

He slows to a stop, leaning down into you so his chest is against you, face above yours and cock fully in you. His hair is slightly damp from all the effort he’s put in. You’d feel slightly bad if it weren’t for the fact he’s been making you feel extremely good and that he looks incredibly hot with damp hair. He also doesn’t seem to be complaining about the fact you’ve just been laying on your back the entire time.

“Mum’s going to be round soon with Zac,” you manage to get the words out just before he presses his lips to yours.

Slipping his tongue into your mouth, he moves his hips in the same slow but deep rhythm. You try to grind your hips up into his, deepening how far he goes into you with every thrust.

“We’ve got time,” Jungkook mutters back, his lips moving from your mouth to press around your face. “I just need you a different way if I’m going to come any time soon.”

“Mhumm?” You moan, eyes closed, head tilted back to let Jungkook have access to your neck. “How’d you want me?”

He hums, teeth nibbling a little bit of skin as his hips push a final time into you. “On your hands and knees.”

He looks up at you, trying to gage your reaction but when you clench around him, he gets the idea. You hum a little when he pulls out and when he’s given you enough space you turn onto your front. Wait patiently, exactly how Jungkook wants you.

His hand runs down the arch of your back, stopping only to feel the globe of your ass. He lets out a satisfied hum before you feel his cock tapping you.

You arch back and up into him and you hear a little satisfied chuckle as his hand moves to your hip. He keeps you where you are as he runs his tip through your folds.

“I’m not going to last long when I get in you,” he warns.

“Neither.”

“Ok,” he breaths, stopping when he’s at your entrance.

His hands tighten on your hips and he lets out a low whine as he pushes into you. He feels so different from this angle, somehow bigger than he felt before. The first few thrusts are slow, you both are getting used to the feel of it. But when you fall onto your elbows, half exhaustion, half because your hands were starting to ache, he hits a particular spot in you that has you moaning into the sheets.

“Oh yeah?” Jungkook asks and you can only let out a gurgled noise in response.

It’s enough. His thrusts grow faster and every time they hit that spot. His balls slap against you, only adding more pleasure. The whole thing is enough to do as you both warned. You come first, hard and out of nowhere. And the feeling of you clamping down is enough to get Jungkook to follow close behind.

Collapsing on your front, Jungkook pulls out of you and gets rid of the condom before lying next to you.

“I should really sort myself out before mum gets here,” you say, though don’t move.

“We’ve got time.”

“Yeah, no offense, but you also need to be gone before she gets here.”

He chuckles, the noise causing a smile to appear on your lips. “I’ll jump the fence if I need to. Stop worrying.”

You roll onto your side and Jungkook flops his head so he can look at you.

“She’ll be able to smell that you’ve been here,” you say and Jungkook grimaces as if weirded out by the comment. “I know. But nothing gets past her.”

Jungkook rolls onto his side. “Well, I can stay and meet her if you want?”

You don’t know why the thought terrifies you so much, but it does. You don’t even know why Jungkook’s offering, but he seems so sincere about it, as if it’s a perfectly normal thing to offer. Surely, it’s too early to be thinking about meeting each other’s parents?

“I can just say you need help putting some shelves up.”

“She’ll make some comment about that being an innuendo,” you roll onto your back.

“Well come on then,” you feel the bed dip and move and when you look back over at Jungkook he’s already standing. “Let me at least help you clean up the evidence.”

There’s a wide smile on his face as he starts to pull on the clothes you all but threw on the floor earlier. He doesn’t look bothered by any of this and while you worried this was only about the sex for him, with all the little things he’s doing, he’s slowly convincing you that maybe it’s not.

“But you better hurry,” he teases when you continue to lay staring at him. “She’s going to be here any minute.”

He does a poor imitation of your voice and when you throw a pillow at him he only chuckles as he catches it. It hits you square in the face when he tosses it back. By the time you’re sat up and moving Jungkook is already out of the room and beginning to tackle the mess you’ve been putting off.

You continue to sleep together whenever you can find the time without Zac being around. But when there isn’t any, Jungkook is still there.

He plays with Zac outside so you can have some peace while you prepare dinner. He washes the dishes up when he occasionally stays for food so you can go and get Zac ready for bed. He buys you bunches of flowers and little boxes of chocolates. He does things around the house, mows the lawn, stops the cupboard squeaking and makes it so the shower doesn’t leak water out of one side.

He seeps into your life in every way and though you’re cautious, you completely let him in.

You convince yourself it’s nothing serious, mainly because you never discuss what the two of you are. But it’s fun and you live in the moment, enjoy the sex as well as the help you’re getting around the house.

However, you look at it though, you know you’re doing what you said you wouldn’t. You’re letting Jungkook in. Not just into your life, but into Zac’s too. Somehow you can’t seem to feel bad about it.

You don’t notice him until you round your car to check that Zac is strapped in. It’s barely 7am, not a time you’re used to seeing Jungkook but the movement at his door has you glancing up. You do a double take as you come to a stop by Zac’s door.

There’s a girl looking like she’s just stepped out of his house, she’s close enough to Jungkook to look like they’re about to embrace or make out or maybe both. He’s stood just in his pants looking down at her, you’re too far away and the girl is blocking your view to work out the expression on his face. Or maybe it’s the cool feel of embarrassment that stops you looking too hard.

Still, you can’t pull your eyes away from the scene. As the girl is talking and Jungkook is listening, neither notice you staring.

It’s not the same girl you’ve noticed at his before, no, this is someone you’ve never seen. You’re not sure if that makes it better or worse. What you do know, is how big an idiot you are. Because of course while you were growing to like him, while you were letting him further into your life, he only saw what you had as something else, a bit of fun, a convenience.

It’s your own fault for not talking to him about it. Your own fault for reading into it more than you should have. You’d known who Jungkook was, what he was like, the sort of man he was and yet you’d still been blinded by his words and smiles. You stupidly thought that you were different. One of those stupid girls that thought you’d be the one to change him.

And there he is, after a night with someone else and he doesn’t even care that he’s flaunting it on his front doorstep.

“Mummy, why aren’t you trapping me?”

Zac speaks loudly enough to not just draw your attention but your neighbours too. You catch Jungkook’s eyes dart towards you just before you twist to your son. You don’t correct his wording, you just want to be out of this situation, don’t want your embarrassment to be witnessed by anyone else.

You duck down to Zac’s level and pull the belt over him and his car chair. Satisfied he’s strapped in you stand. Your traitorous eyes can’t help but flick to your neighbour’s door, however hard your brain is screaming not to look.

The girl is a step further away from the door now, her head looking between you and Jungkook. Jungkook’s gaze is firmly on you. It looks like he’s about to open his mouth and shout something at you. That or take off in a run in your direction.

Springing into action, blood coursing through you, you leap into the drivers seat, buckle yourself in and take off in reverse.

You can hear your heartbeat in your ears as you start down the road. Though you know nothing is going to happen there’s thoughts of Jungkook opening your door or banging on your window. None of that happens. When you flick your eyes in the rear-view mirror, he’s not even left his doorstep.

Your heart falls into the bottom of your stomach.

“I know what I saw Rosie.”

“Well talk me through it one more time.”

You sigh, look down at the tea in your hands before flicking your eyes to your son. Zac is still playing with the little girl who approached him fifteen minutes ago and is happily getting bossed around in a game with her. It’s sweet to see the bundle of energy that is your son be so placid sometimes. It’s also great to be at one of your favourite coffee shops, kids play area and all with your best friend moments after the most embarrassing time of your life. Though you don’t want to relive every detail of what happened in the car before coming here, it’s kind of nice to hash it out with Rosie.

“There was a girl, all dressed up as if she’d had to put on the clothes she was out in last night, stood on Jungkook’s doorstep while he stood basically naked saying goodbye.”

Rosie hums, her head bobbing up and down in thought. “Yep. I’ve got to admit I’m struggling to see any good angles.”

“That’s because there are no good angles,” you whine.

“Well, I’m guessing the nearly naked bit was good.”

The glare you shoot at her has her sitting straighter in her chair, her hands almost raising in defence.

“Yep. Agreed. Definitely one of the worst bits. Ok.”

You sigh, eyes flicking once again to Zac.

“And what the hell am I supposed to tell Zac?” It’s the first time you’ve thought about it, because although this is your issues, it’s also going to affect Zac. “I can just ignore Jungkook, but Zac will still ask questions and while I’d dive away from him in public Zac won’t do the same.”

“Right,” Rosie says with the air of a woman with no children, therefore lacking all understanding of your predicament. “Well, my first thoughts in all of this, and please don’t kill me when I say this. But, why don’t you talk to Jungkook first?”

“Why would I do that?” You ask flatly.

“Because you clearly have no idea what you were looking at this morning.”

“What gave you that impression? I’ve very obviously stated just how much I saw.”

“Yes, and while I admit it didn’t look great, neither of us can fully explain it. The only person who can happens to live only a short trip from your house.”

“Not going to happen,” you say, taking a sip of your tea and looking away from her. It does nothing to convince her to change the topic.

“You’re both adults. Maybe what you thought you saw wasn’t exactly what it was,” when you continue to not look convinced, she sighs. “Fine, give him a piece of your mind, walk away from him and avoid him like the plague. But what if you’re building this up to be something it really isn’t?”

“I know Jungkook, and I know what that was.”

“From what you’ve told me about him, I really don’t believe it for a second.”

Your ice-cold glare does nothing, she just levels her gaze right back at you. In the end it’s you who give in first.

“I’m not going around to his only to have what I already know laid out so plainly for me. You don’t understand how mortifying it was this morning.”

Rosie’s eyes turn softer, a glint of pity seeping into them. When she speaks her tone is softer and her body starts to lean in towards you.

“I get it. But I also get the impression that Jungkook would never do that to you or Zac.”

The mention of your son’s name makes your heart pound. You look over at him, he looks so happy sat on the floor piling blocks high with the little girl. It makes your heart hurt to imagine him asking after Jungkook and you having to tell him that he can’t see him anymore. The laughs and giggles that always came out of him when Jungkook is around. The manly figure in his life gone like that. This is why you didn’t want to get close to him. This is why you didn’t want anything to happen. Because although you’re hurting right now, you know it’ll feel nothing in comparison to breaking it to your son.

“Will you just think about it at least?” Rosie asks, dragging your eyes back to her.

You sigh and then nod. “I’ll think about it.”

You think about it all of two seconds and know you will never be knocking on Jungkook’s door, nor will you be hanging around outside long enough for him to catch you. No, you will be doing exactly as Rosie suggested and avoiding him like the plague.

This is why you never wanted to get involved with him. Because you knew what would happen in the end, you knew what type of man he was. And why you may have accepted that in the past, gone with the man for a bit of fun. Now, things have changed, it’s not just you that you have to think about.

You spend the time alone thinking it through. The more time you have, the more certain you are. Jungkook was a mistake. But now you know that you can move on as best you can. He doesn’t want you, that’s fine, you can accept that and do your best to pick up whatever pieces of Zac that break.

Surprisingly, for nearly a week, it works.

Unsurprisingly, when there’s an unexpected knock at your door Saturday evening when Zac is in bed, it’s Jungkook.

You know it’s going to be him before you open the door, or at least have a strong feeling it is. Your face is already set in a grimace, so luckily it’s not a delivery man or an unsuspecting stranger. You open the door enough for Jungkook to see you, but only enough that your body is blocking any view inside.

“Hey.”

You raise an eyebrow at the word. Has he really come here after a week and the first word he says is hey? You can almost see the cold sweat breaking out across his forehead, but to his credit Jungkook remains calm.

“So, I was thinking it’s been a while since we last saw each other and I was wondering how you are?”

“Are you shitting me right now?”

You have half a mind to slam the door in his face and as if reading that thought Jungkook sticks a hand out and props it on the door. He doesn’t push it open, he doesn’t apply any pressure, he just rests it there so he can stop you closing him out.

“Can I come in so we can talk about this?”

“What’s there to talk about?”

It’s Jungkook’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Given this reaction, there is clearly lots to talk about Y/N.”

“And if I don’t want to talk?”

He closes his eyes. You’re not sure if he’s praying or taking a second to calm himself down. Either way, when he opens them and looks at you, they seem darker, more intense, like he has more purpose now.

“Right, if you want to do it here, let’s do it here,” he says and doesn’t give you time to interrupt. “I know you saw me last week with Clare. I know what it looked like and I know what you thought. Maybe I’ve been utterly shit in not coming sooner but I wanted to give you space to figure things out on your own; I realise now that was a mistake.”

You’re so thrown by the last comment you don’t speak in the small pause. Should you be offended? Jungkook carries on, as if satisfied you’re listening to him.

“Clare is an ex of sorts, and she came over early, before I had chance to get dressed, and that’s what you saw. Nothing else. Nothing more.”

You don’t know how to feel. You don’t know whether to believe him. Because although he sounds like he’s telling the truth, he also sounds like he really wants you to believe him and for whatever reason you’re not sure why he’d cared so much about what you think.

“You always answer the door in your pants?”

It’s clearly not the words he was hoping for, but he still gives you an answer. “When I’ve just woken up, yes.”

“And she didn’t stay the night?”

The question, although spoken with a little less bite, a little less certainty, seems to be more what Jungkook was expecting. Though you’ve given him little reason to relax, his shoulders look less tense, his weight leans forwards so the door creaks open a touch. You try to hold your ground as your traitorous heart pounds in your chest.

“No one has stayed the night since I’ve been with you.”

Your eyes flick around his face trying to read the truth there. You can’t spot the lie, though you still don’t fully believe it.

“She didn’t even come inside,” he carries on. “In fact, she was at my door all of ten minutes before she left. If you hadn’t driven off, you would have seen that.”

“Ok.”

“Ok?” He frowns. “That’s all you have to say?”

“Yes. You’ve explained, so, ok.”

Jungkook remains, frown between his eyes, hand still on your door. And you stare right back at him, feet planted, door not swinging open.

“I don’t understand,” he admits, voice soft.

“Right, because you expected me to jump back into your arms?” The silence tells you the answer you already knew. This man’s ego is way too big. “I guess I just realised who you are and why we don’t work together. What happened between us was a mistake and I’m sorry if you’ve been pushing girls aside for whatever reason, but you don’t have to anymore.”

Jungkook continues to look confused. It only makes you drive the message home a little stronger.

“We were never going to work. You’re you and I’m me and while we had fun, that’s all it was ever going to be. I guess I just remembered who you are and why I can’t afford to have you around me and Zac.”

Jungkook’s hand slips from the door and the look of hurt on his face almost makes you regret the words. But it’s true, isn’t it? You’re not sure what he was coming here to say, that he wanted to carry on sleeping with you for a bit longer? That you were convenient living next door and he didn’t want to give that up just yet? Aren’t the words you just said what he would have been telling you weeks down the line when you and your son were no doubt in too deep?

No. It was better you told him how it was now. It was better you ripped off the plaster. It was better you ended this now before Jungkook broke your heart. Because although you’re hurting now, although you want to drag him inside and let his explanation be enough, you know that it’ll only be worse later.

Jungkook’s hand now free from your door you see your chance.

“I’ll still see you around though,” the words feel bitter as they leave your lips and your tone lacks any conviction. “I’m still happy to lend you sugar like any other neighbour.”

Jungkook doesn’t speak, his eyes focused on something in the near distance, he looks like he’s trying to solve a puzzle or an over complex maths equation.

You swallow as his eyes finally move to yours. The frown is still there but they look dark and not in the same way they did earlier. No, the look in them now makes your stomach coil. He looks like he’s figured something out. You can’t tell if that’s a good or a bad thing.

You don’t give yourself long enough to figure it out. You need to be out of this situation. You need Jungkook off your doorstep. You need to make sure he doesn’t say anything to change you’re easily swayed mind.

“I’ll see you around,” you squeak and then you slam the door closed in his face.

You lean into the door as your chest rises and falls. You did it, though you doubted yourself, you told him what you’d been thinking the last week, that although you didn’t really want him out of your life, it was better he was out of it.

You don’t hear his footsteps. You don’t see his shadow move away from your door. You remain leaning on your door for a minute after closing it but you’re unaware of Jungkook leaving either. Heart in your throat, you twist and walk away, hoping that’s the last you hear from the man but knowing it won’t be.

It starts with flowers. A big bloom that gets delivered first thing in the morning. They get shoved in your hands and the woman is walking away before you can tell them they must have got the wrong address. Your names on the card though, and when you prize it open you know who they’re from even though it’s got no signature.

You never let me finish. Let me take you out for dinner?

You bite the inside of your cheek, send a glare at your neighbour’s brick wall.

You still put them in water. You still cut their stems and arrange them and then place the large vase on your countertop. It would be a waste to throw them away. But you don’t attempt to reply to the question on the card. That, you throw away.

It takes Jungkook a few hours to text you, chasing for an answer.

Jungkook: Did you get my flowers?

Y/N: They’re yours? I thought they must have come to the wrong house.

Jungkook: Is that why you put them in that pretty vase and up on display? What did you think about the note that came with it?

Y/N: It’s in the bin where it belongs.

Jungkook: Let me take you out for dinner.

Y/N: I’m busy.

Jungkook: I never even gave you a date or time.

Y/N: I struggle getting a babysitter for Zac as it is.

Jungkook: Then let me cook for you. He can sleep while we talk.

Y/N: I really am busy Jungkook.

Jungkook: Think about it. I just want to talk.

Sure, you think, I’ll think about it. The same length of time you thought about whether you’d go and talk to him before. All of two seconds.

No, you’re not going to have dinner with him. You don’t particularly want to talk to him ever again.

Maybe it’s childish given he’s your neighbour. What he did wasn’t awful, it’s more that you know if you give him even an inch then he’ll take a mile and you’ll just let him back in. You liked having him around, you liked the help, you liked being able to talk to someone your age, you liked someone looking after you. But it’s not just about you.

You’re bound to see him around and that doesn’t mean you won’t give him a neighbourly hello and nod. That will be it. No opening up about your life. No asking to babysit. No late night drinks. No kissing on the sofa. No anything more.

You can’t even think about it. You may be pretending to be hard and over it, but Jungkook had successfully wormed his way into your life and if it wasn’t for Zac, you’d more than happily curl up in your bed and mope for a few days.

You’ve successfully been played. And it feels shit.

“Mummy,” you look over at Zac. “You’ve been sat of that sofa forever.”

He never fails to put a smile on your face. And just like you were thinking before, he successfully gets you out of your slump. You could sulk all you want in private, but with Zac around you have to set an example.

You don’t go to Jungkook’s for dinner, instead make some half-arsed excuse as to why you can’t go. He must know you’re still pushing him away and at least this time he lets you. You get a simple reply to your text rejecting his invitation. No offers to rearranged. No accusations or callouts for your excuse. No attempt to carry on the conversation. Just an understanding message.

You’re not sure why but you feel a little disappointed. Even though it’s what you were hoping for.

It doesn’t take long for the next attack to come. This time it’s not flowers or offers of dinners but is instead small acts of kindness. Your lawn mowed without having to ask. Your bins emptied and cleaned. Your car cleaned. All things Jungkook’s done in the past and if you didn’t know him you’d find slightly creepy, but instead find endearing.

You hate that you feel that way.

His texts don’t start immediately. But when they start, they come in steady streams. There’s no pressure in any of them and while you hardly reply to any of them, they’re still said in the same tone, sweet and light. They all say pretty much the same thing, that he wants to meet to talk. But you’re not ready and you don’t want to. No matter what he says it won’t change who he is and it won’t change the fact that you’ll like slip again and you can’t afford to be with someone like that.

You see him in passing, him leaving while you’re arriving home. Again, he never pressures you into talking but always smile and waves at you.

You start to feel a little awkward. You know what he’s doing, guilt tripping you into giving in; you just don’t understand why he’s doing it. Surely he should have given up by now, surely if you’re just someone to sleep with this isn’t worth it.

You’re sat on your front garden watching Zac cycle around when you hear his front door open. You don’t look his way, but you tense with expectation. Zac hasn’t noticed Jungkook yet, he’s still happily going in the circle you’d allowed him to, from pavement pausing to checking the silent road for a car, crossing to the other side and going around. He’s babbling about something, shouting about being chased by a dinosaur as he whizzes around.

There are three footsteps before they go silent. And you prepare for whatever he’s about to say.

It’s been close to two weeks now and while he’s been doing small but thoughtful gestures, you have successfully put off talking to him. You’ve passed him in the street a couple of time, but every time have managed with a nod and a hello, the greeting you’d wished was normal for the two of you.

He doesn’t say anything this time though, just stands wherever it is he’s stopped. You fight the urge to look at him, foot tapping on the floor as you fight to keep your eyes on Zac.

Your restrain is only so strong. When you look over your shoulder he’s already staring right at you.

Your heart stutters. Your foot stops it’s tapping. He doesn’t look angry or sad, in fact there’s a small smile on his lips. His attire is much the same as you always see, an oversize shirt with sleeves that go to his elbow, letting you see his arm full of tattoos and skinny black jeans. He’s stood on his side of the drive; you can’t even accuse him of trespassing. The only thing you could possibly tell him is that he’s being creepy. But even that would be a lie.

“Hey,” his smile widens now you’re looking at him.

You don’t reply, can barely manage a smile. Every time before now you’ve been on your way in or out. You had an excuse for a quick escape. Now, sat on your front garden, you feel trapped.

“You alright?”

And yet, Jungkook still isn’t pushing you. However big a dick he’s been or might be, he’s never forced you to speak to him. Maybe you’re the one being a bigger dick. Maybe speaking to him won’t be as bad as you think. Maybe you’ll actually like whatever it is he wants to tell you.

Just as you open your mouth to reply, Zac beats you to it.

“Jungkook!”

You wince at the name screamed across the street. It’s not the volume that causes your reaction but the pure joy in which the name is said.

You’re still focused on Jungkook’s face, trying to conceal your reaction as he looks over at Zac with a wider smile when you hear it.

A crash. Metal scraping along tarmac. Silence for a second and then a scream, the noise so much louder than the name he shouted mere seconds ago.

Eyes wide, heart pounding, your head whips away from Jungkook in the direction of the noise. Zac must have turned too soon, distracted by the sight of Jungkook he’d lost control of his bike and left the pavement too soon, only to crash and fall off the curb.

You shoot to your feet, your focus solely on your crying son who has a bike now on top of him and is calling out for you. Time seems to slow. Your feet don’t move fast enough. Zac is too far away. And even though you run faster than you ever have, you still don’t make it before Jungkook. He’s pulling the bike off your son, trying to sooth him when you get there.

You swallow the tightness in your throat, the fear creeping up your chest, as you look at your scraped up son.

“Mummy,” he wails, eyes landing on you, tears streaming down his face as blood oozes in the cuts on his palms and knees.

You reach out for him, but again, Jungkook is too fast. He lifts Zac into his arms as if he weighs nothing and then he's ever so carefully handing him over.

“It’s ok, baby,” you hold him to your chest, hand soothing his head. “You’re ok. It’s just a little cut.”

But it’s more than that. It’s the shock of the accident, it’s more than a little cut and for you, it’s the fear that it could have been a lot worse. What if a car was coming down the road when it happened? What if he’d landed differently? What if he’d hit his head? You shouldn’t have been so focused on Jungkook. You shouldn’t have let Zac cycle around all on his own, he’s still so young. You should have –

“Come on,” a warm, steady hand squeezes your shoulder. “Let’s get you two inside and cleaned up.”

You look at Jungkook, your own tears welling in your eyes. As if sensing your rising panic, Jungkook’s expression changes and the hand on your shoulder moves to your lower back. He adds a small amount of pressure and is steering you in the direction of your house.

You let him guide you. Your feet, your body, everything but Zac in your arms and Jungkook’s hand on your back cease to exist. Mind racing about what you need to do you don’t realise Jungkook’s led you into your living room until his hand leaves your back. Eyes snapping to his already retreating body, he says nothing.

Panic still rooted in you; it takes you a second to react.

You need to calm Zac down. You need to clean his wounds. You need wipes, plasters and a blanket and hot bottle of milk. You need to –

“You need to calm down,” Jungkook says lightly as he comes back. “You can’t help anyone in this state.”

Hand back on your shoulder he guides you once again, this time until the back of your knees hit the sofa and then you’re sat. You look over Zac’s shoulder to see Jungkook kneeling before you, supplies in his arms. He has a hard look on his face, one that tells you to pull yourself together. You give him a small nod as you twist Zac around to face Jungkook, his arms tighten around your neck and your heart breaks a little.

“We’re ok, aren’t we Zac?” Jungkook says lightly. “Let’s have a look at that cut.”

You swallow as you watch Jungkook’s hand and eyes go to Zac’s cut knee. He waits a second and then lets out a loud, exaggerated gasp. Zac’s head pulls out of the crook in your neck to look at Jungkook and his wide eyes. Tears are still falling down his face, but the reaction has stopped the sobs.

“Oh Zac,” Jungkook says in another dramatic tone. You know he’s joking, you just worry that Zac doesn’t know that and Jungkook’s going to do the opposite of what he’s hoping. “I think you might survive. You know why?”

Zac’s little head shakes and you can only watch as Jungkook completely takes control of the situation.

“Because you’re being so brave. I mean look at you, I don’t know anyone braver,” Jungkook’s eyes dart up to you, a small smile now playing on his face at whatever look he’s seen on your face. “Don’t you agree, mummy?”

It takes you a second, mind scrambled, but you squeeze your hands on Zac’s shoulders. “So brave.”

“See,” Jungkook says. “Now, shall we have a look at cleaning you up? You have to be extra brave for me though, and if you promise me you will, then maybe after we can have some chocolate ice cream.”

Zac head nods and Jungkook smiles widely at him. You watch as Jungkook mutters how amazing your son is being while he cleans him up, he even makes him giggle at one point.

You stroke your hand over his head and try not to let your mind spiral. Jungkook is being so good and while you have no doubt that he would never let anything that may be happening between you get between him and Zac, it’s something wholly different to see. You’re not sure what you would have done had he not been there. And while you could pin some of the blame on him, not a single part of you wants to.

You’ve treated him like crap. Ignored him when all he wanted to do was talk. And yet he’s still here, acting as if everything is ok. That doesn’t seem like something the guy you’ve been imagining in your head would do. You’ve been way too harsh.

When Zac’s all cleaned up, you do as promised. While you help him change into cleaner, less cut, clothes, Jungkook finds him some ice cream. By the time he’s all tucked up watching Moana, there’s a bit more life in his face.

You don’t say anything as you leave him to it and head to the kitchen, and you don’t say anything when Jungkook follows you. Silently you flick the kettle and pull two mugs towards you.

“Can we talk?”

It’s what he’s been asking for days, in that same unexpecting tone. You’re in no doubt that if you said you didn’t want to talk, however hard Jungkook may find that, he’d still respect your wishes.

You make him wait a little longer now. Put a tea bag in each mug before pouring the just boiled water over them. When you twist Jungkook’s leaning against your counter, the portrait of indifference, though his eyes tell a different story as they bore into you.

“What do you want to say Jungkook?” You still have to force the words out.

He seems to relax while tense all at the same time. He takes a step towards you and looks as if he’d take another before thinking better and stopping. It’s as if now, finally given the chance, he’s not quite sure what to say. Or maybe he just doesn’t know where to start.

“I’ve already been through the whole what you saw wasn’t what it looked like thing. But you never let me carry on,” he pauses, as if expecting you to stop him again now. When you don’t, he carries on. “The reason I wanted to clear things up is because I don’t want you thinking of me that way or thinking that I was for some reason using you or Zac. I really like you Y/N. It wasn’t just a fling for me, I thought you got that?”

Clearly you didn’t. You’d hoped, sure, but the minute there was even the smallest of hints to say any different, you’d jumped on it. Jungkook seems to read that even though you don’t say anything.

“Why is that so hard for you to believe?”

You shrug feeling awkward, but Jungkook waits for you to say it verbally. “Well, because I’m me and I have a son and a really messy life.”

Jungkook’s lips twitches at the edges. “You know I love Zac too, right?”

“Playing in the street is something wholly different to going out with his mum.”

“You make it sound like I’m a kid too,” he laughs. “But of course I get that.”

“He’s not always happy and playful.”

“I think we just established that.”

“Yeah, but he’s hard work and needy and rowdy.”

“Where’s the downside here?”

“Jungkook,” you warn but he just laughs and takes another step towards you, now close enough to grasp your hands and lift them between your bodies.

“I honestly get it. You two are a package deal. That doesn’t put me off.”

You struggle, look at your hands laced together. You don’t pull away from him, but you also don’t fall into his arms. Something is still hold you back.

“What is it?” Jungkook encourages.

You take a breath and then look up into his eyes. “What if you don’t always feel that way? What if one day you decide it is too hard and isn’t worth it and just leave?”

He detangles one of his hands with yours so he can reach up to cup your cheek. His eyes look so soft now, though his features look hard and set with whatever thoughts he’s thinking.

“I would never just leave you two,” he says, thumb moving over your jaw. “Listen, I can’t promise anything about the future, maybe we won’t work and if we don’t I wouldn’t just up and leave you and Zac – I live next door, I wouldn’t be able to get very far,” he tries to lighten the mood and when you let out a small laugh, he looks happy that he succeeded. “But what if we did work? What if this is it? What if we’re meant to be together? Won’t you at least give it a try?”

You can see the hope swimming in his eyes, can see the desire and the truth behind every word he’s spoken. He really means it. He wants to be with you and he doesn’t care that you’re a single mum with an over enthusiastic child, that hasn’t put him off.

And you know he’s right. You’re pushing him away on what if’s and though you may not work out, should that be enough to stop you from having happiness in the here and now?

Jungkook patiently waits the few seconds for you to mull it over, but really you’ve been a sucker all along. You wouldn’t have been able to deny him for much longer, no matter what happened.

“Ok,” you finally say and watch as Jungkook’s whole face lights up.

“Ok?” He repeats, unbelieving.

You giggle and before you can confirm it a second time his lips are on you. Hard and heavy and a whole lot of teeth, it’s not the sexiest kiss you’ve ever had but it’s definitely in your top five, even given the fact it only lasts a second.

Jungkook stays close, his hand still on your jaw, his nose nearly brushing yours, a wide toothy grin on his lips.

“Can I take you out for that meal now then?”

You can’t supress your smile even as you roll your eyes. “I’ll look for a babysitter.”

“No,” he stops you. “I want Zac to come too.”

Your heart stutters, breath caught in your chest. It’s the three of you now and Jungkook already knows how important that is to you.

You lean in to kiss him again before mumbling against his lips. “Ok.”

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