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undercoverpena · 7 months

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comfort came against my will

gif credit to @perotovar

joel miller x f!reader summary: it’ll begin with a little beg, a whispered plea—fingers wrapping around his chin, mouth ghosting over his: Let me ride you, Miller.

word count: 1.8k warnings: smut, p in v, jo's spelling and poetic nature. dedication: happy birthday to my friend, @swiftispunk - i know you love Joel, and i hope you love this. special thanks to @perotovar for letting me use their beautiful GIF that inspired half of my imagery, if not all of it.

There’s something about heavy rainfall.

The way it’s cleansing, renewing—almost reinvigorating, depending on when the last time it fell.

Joel found that the only downside is the scent it leaves behind.

Once, a long time ago, it used to leave behind a smell that others wished to bottle—a wish to burn it in candles or hang cheap versions from their car’s centre mirror in haphazardly cut-out trees.

Now, it has an aroma that reminds him of death. A stench which has dug itself into the hairs in his nose, unwilling to let go—clinging, desperate not to be forgotten.

But, you like the rain.

He'll always find you near the window when it pours, eyes tracing the droplets. Your chair purposefully, and with all intentions, pointing to the muck-covered window. Nothing more perfect, you’d murmur—fingers wrapped around one of the crystal glasses the two of you discovered on a run, pressing it to your cheek, off-coloured liquid sloshing as you sigh.

He’s pretty sure he could name a few other things more perfect than rain, but he does find it hard to argue that it isn't the most perfect soundtrack when your thighs are on either side of him.

Especially when the weather is like this. Where a flash of lightning can illuminate you, casting you in a brief spotlight that kisses over your curves and the evidence of your survival.

Tonight, it begins with you draining your glass, turning your head, eyes shimmering as you move from your place, coming to join him on the bed.

Your fingers, both a little rough and soft, wrap around his chin, before a little beg, a whispered plea fills the air—mouth ghosting over his: Let me ride you, Miller.

He couldn’t argue, would never protest. But, your mouth stealing any words he wishes to say. Because he likes having you under him—pinned, close, unable to look anywhere but directly at him. For when you stare, you make everything else pale in comparison. Made the world around mute, it all fading to nought.

You do so with ease, with a single look. One he imagines has always been there, all very much you, even if the state of things has tried to steal it away. He can easily imagine a younger you modelling it, one without the stress lines of living, it all softer, gentler.

Joel doesn’t mind that isn't the case now. He doesn't care for gentle or soft. He likes how sharp you are, that you can cut, wound and make him bleed. He enjoys that, even if he doesn’t deserve anything from you, you stand side-by-side with him, choosing him—wanting and needing, all raised brow with a smirk to match.

If you listen, the rain is telling us something.

You're close to his ear as you mumble it, lips ghosting down his cheek before a clap of thunder steals the phantoms of your whispered echo.

His hands fan over your hips, pushing up one of his tees that you're wearing, sliding it up with his thumbs—feeling how your skin moves, shifts, lengthening over your muscles and bones. His mind busy, occupied, only thinking about how beautiful you are, even when drenched in darkness.

How you’re all untouched except the few scars, the nips and scratches left by those who wished to end you, but found that you weren’t so easy to dispose of.

Joel knows that you’re vicious, all sharp teeth and a menace with a knife many shouldn’t ever want to meet in a dark alley, not that the world has cottoned on. Each try, each fail. He often watches, in awe, pleased, because you're like him. So smooth in the way you're prepared to split someone open, coat your boots in their ichor as the rest of them spill out. Leaving him, often, battling his feelings at the sight.

But while he knows that side of you, Joel also knows the other you.

The one who still believes the rain is romantic. A soul who wishes for a pretty print on a dress, even if you'll only wear it in the four walls of the place you two share. Modelling it for him, dipping your toe into a fantasy with him. You also like the little things, such as a pair of matching glasses, enjoying that they belong together, a metaphor for something you clearly desperately crave.

If he were an honest man, one not ripped to shreds and put together all wrong, he’d tell you you’re a more perfect sight than rain. Not just when you’re sitting on top of him or when you’re under him; not just when you’re panting, venom in your eyes and splattered with cherry-red. But, when you’re just beside him.

Breathing, existing, sleeping.

He’d tell you that you’re an image perfectly cut out of an old version of his happy ever after, slapped down and glued beside him now, even when he’s all tragedy and tragic. That your darkness dances with his faultlessly—making him less alone.

That for you, he’d want to be better, which included letting you go—even if you’re pulling him close—because a man such as him, with hands stained and scarred with horrors, shouldn’t get to touch smeared perfection. That you’re not really poisoned or rotten, just living, fighting—claws digging into the soil, all desperate for another moment.

It’s why he lets you have your fun, and then he flips you under him, palm to your cheek, stare burning into yours.

What’s it tryin’ to tell us? The rain.

You fit him inside of you perfectly—just like you’ve fitted yourself in his space. You’re all knotted around him, heat warm—inviting. Your thighs pressing close, legs crossing behind him, aiding, helping.

Not because you don’t think he’d get you there, but because you’re conscientious, caring—it appears in smaller gestures others wouldn’t notice, but he sees them. Bottles them. Keep them close when you’re not beside him.

Not that he shows it.

Unsure once again, for the billionth time since you stood beside him (and never left), what you see in him—what you think he can give you. Because he’s old, worn, somewhat broken beyond repair—not that it stops you from trying.

“More, Joel. Please.”

You don’t call him pet names, but he hears them in the silence.

They quiver and talk in hushed voices in the kitchen that is covered in grime and not fit for a beauty such as yourself. Some even sprout on his tongue, a fresh seedling, all untouched and unruined—not yet weeded from his throat.

He finds it harder to not let them fall when you sound as pretty as you do. When your nails press half-moons into his skin, leaving a tale of your own in his forearms and biceps, meeting him with everything you have as your walls tighten, delightfully, a match made in hell—because heaven would never allow him. Or you now, he supposes.

It’s why his thumb slides between the two of you, licked with his spit, mixing with the slick against your swollen clit. You gasp, spraying sweetness around the air that's heavy-layered with sex.

He’s forever starving, never quenched—a need for you that runs deeper than mere living and existing. Not ever able to purge you from his system, never wanting to either. Because you’re entangled with him, rooted, anchored inside of him so you can bob along and never go under.

Not that he’d let you.

Joel would never.

His hips punctuate that sentiment. Wanting you to know it, driving them in, so the words don’t go in one ear and out the other. He aims to stamp them in you, fuck them so deep into you you’ll never forget. The sound of skin on skin, groan and grunt, all filling the space, evidence of his determination, swirling around your returning breath, still moaning, murmuring—all scratchy and rough.

“—Let go, Joel. Fill me.”

It rips from him, your name.

Each letter is important, each sound giving the attention it deserves as it coats the air—mouth finding the space between your ear and neck, kissing, teeth nipping.

“Stuff me full.”

The rain hammers heavier, beating its fists against the glass as though it’ll only calm when he does as you’ve asked. As though you and nature are tied together, bonded—the real pairing made in paradise.

It’s then your lips find his, sloppy, messy, all uncoordinated. He can taste the bitterness of your drink on your tongue and the pleasure he’d given you. His mouth lapping it up, licking into yours, tongue far past your teeth as he grips you a little tighter, ruts into you a little deeper—as if hoping there’s more of you to explore, more vastness he can leave a mark on.

It's muffled, but you cut the air with his name as if your tongue is a blade. Your body tightens, mouth ripped from his as you bare your throat, chin lifted, eyes closed as it washes over you and your walls become a vice, hugging his cock in a way no one else ever has.

He's close.

So close.

Another flash, it all bright, exposing the sweat collected on your skin, the path it has made between your breastbone, the way your body looks under him.

Then it’s electric, ripping through him as he stains, writing you’re his all in thick ropes of white—his hips stuttering, slowing, riding it out what it is you do to him. It’s a feeling akin to being folded inside out and then put back again—making his muscles tense and relax, his bones forget they ache, as his throat burns with the force of his exclamation.

It’s minutes, little seconds clumping up until an expanse of time collects, and he’s ready to leave the space between your thighs.

Your eyes on him, all unwavering, mapping his features as though you’re an artist, ready to make him into a sculpture.

He doesn’t tell you to stop, he's learnt his lesson from doing as such—eyes ablaze, full of molten, words sharp as ice, all a twisted juxtaposition as you lay into him all the ways you were, are and am enamoured by him.

He’s sure his list is longer, but he swallowed that, too.

Joel had just nodded, left you angry for half an evening until his arms wrapped around you, and he felt you melt, less lava and more a candle-lit flame licking at him until he took you to bed.

Even if a scrap of time has passed since then, Joel is still no closer to finding himself comfortable with the look—the one he suspects comes with words. Ones you don’t thankfully spill, but ones he would mean just as much if he really asked himself.

It isn’t until you tap him, that he moves. You’re more nimble, quicker on your feet to fetch a rag to clean yourself and then him. Each touch delicate, your stare concentrated before the cloth is cast to some corner—a thing you’ll move and clean tomorrow.

And then, you’re beside him, finding the place you usually choose—all intentional, willingly given—as his arm finds itself around you. A flash of lightning displaying the two of your shadows pressed together, merged in ways the two of your souls are.

Swallowing, he finds your stare is back on the window, the world outside painting its own version of a masterpiece.

“Y’never said what the rain’s telling us.”

You smile, before you lift up your chin, looking at him through your brows. “Just stories. The rain likes to tell stories.”

an: ily, han.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #tlou fanfic #hbo the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfic #joel miller smut #pedrostories

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burntlikethesun · 6 months

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The first exclusive content to land in the Whoniverse will be TALES OF THE TARDIS, a brand new six-part series that reunites beloved classic Doctor Who duos, as they board a very special TARDIS on a nostalgic voyage through space and time.

Reprising their roles as the Doctor and companions to go on a timey-wimey spin down memory lane in these unmissable adventures are; Maureen O’Brien as Vicki and Peter Purves as Steven, Frazer Hines as Jamie and Wendy Padbury as Zoe, Katy Manning as Jo and Daniel Anthony as Clyde, Peter Davison as the Fifth Doctor and Janet Fielding as Tegan, Colin Baker as the Sixth Doctor and Nicola Bryant as Peri, and Sylvester McCoy as the Seventh Doctor and Sophie Aldred as Ace.

These Doctor Who legends step back into character to reflect on their adventures and in the process they discover something new, leaving viewers with a new insight into the story of each timeless pair.

Over six parts, each episode of TALES OF THE TARDIS features a different duo, with brand new scenes woven together with classic episodes to create a feature-length omnibus episode

With new scenes written by Showrunner Russell T Davies, and previous Doctor Who writers Phil Ford and Pete McTighe, TALES OF THE TARDIS allows fans to rediscover the stories they love whilst inviting new viewers to explore the vast mythology of the Doctor.

Russell T Davies, Doctor Who Showrunner says:

“The word Whoniverse was invented by fans, so it’s time to give it official status. And TALES OF THE TARDIS is one of the greatest delights of my career - to see old Doctors and companions reunited, still fighting the good fight, is a perfect way to celebrate the Doctor’s 60th birthday!”

#doctor who #tales of the tardis #classic who #russell t davies

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scuderiasundays · 10 months

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the smoothest operation

summary: roller coasters, third wheeling, and a diamond ring + a little insta au at the end 💍 part two to you and me together so i brought back a few characters!

words: 1,414

a/n: on a writing kick! this one's for @vamossainz55, who i adore 🫶🏼 feedback is much appreciated as always. hugs and kisses!

September was a special month for the two of you, as it marked the arrival of three events: his birthday, yours, and your anniversary. Carlos had asked you to be his girlfriend during a celebratory soirée, thrown by his closest friends. The speakers were blaring Bad Bunny’'s "Enséñame a Bailar" so loud that you could barely hear him when he nervously asked you the big question. Despite the noise, your answer was an immediate and resounding yes. The usually reserved Spaniard couldn't contain his joy and spent the rest of the evening twirling you around to DJ Lando’s handpicked tunes.

You had never been one for extravagant birthday celebrations, the type to turn bright red whenever people sang “Happy Birthday” to you. You found more joy in giving gifts, searching high and low for the most thoughtful presents. Carlos had been on the receiving end of your love for three summers now and wanted nothing more than to give it all back tenfold.

Carlos was thrilled when the race calendar for 2023 was unveiled, revealing that the two of you would be celebrating in Tokyo. He knew just how much you adored the vibrant city as you’d joined him at Suzuka last fall, where you were amazed by the politeness and dedication of the Japanese fans. Carlos’ fame had skyrocketed after “Drive to Survive” aired and walking around a city without someone recognizing him had become a rarity. You took great pleasure in getting to witness how he genuinely engaged with his fans, attentively listening to every word. Despite this, you were only human and there were times when you longed to have your boyfriend all to yourself. Tokyo, one of the few cities where Carlos wasn't as widely known, held a special allure, allowing you both to feel a sense of normalcy.

Carlos wasn't really into roller coasters, but you? You were absolutely obsessed with them. If the Ferrari crew mentioned an amusement park outing, you'd be the first to sign up, whether Carlos joined or not. Last season at Ferrari World in Abu Dhabi, you had him in stitches as you dragged him from one ride to another, giggling like a little kid. This year, Carlos had decided to take you to Tokyo DisneySea as he’d heard nothing but rave reviews.

As you hopped into the Purosangue, you were taken aback to find Lando sitting in the backseat. "You're serious? Lando's coming?" you exclaimed, a mix of surprise and amusement in your voice. Lando chuckled and replied, "Well, this could be the best day of your life, Y/N. It's all about perspective," snapping a photo of you. While you and Lando were the same age and had a sibling-like bond, the whole third wheel situation was starting to get old. Carlos, however, defended his decision, saying, "I couldn't just leave him at the hotel. He promised to take photos of us, so it's a win-win situation, no?"

Lando's promise to be a fly on the wall quickly faded away the moment the three of you stepped foot in DisneySea. He had a well-researched list of foods he wanted to try, and his determination to conquer them all was clear. Carlos, being a self-proclaimed food connoisseur himself, eagerly agreed, as you embarked on a gourmet tour.

"We're here to actually go on rides, right?" you questioned, observing the two grown men as they devoured their Little Green Men mochi. "I think I'll take advantage of the 'Single Rider' line while you two feast. Just how I feel today—single," you said with a smirk, before heading towards Raging Spirits.

As your patience began to wear thin, Carlos couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of anticipation. Everything was falling into place; thanks to the help he had sought from Lando months ago. They had even created a joint Google doc titled "El Plan," meticulously outlining each step. Carlos knew you wouldn't be able to resist the temptation of a roller coaster, and he intended to use that time to set everything in motion. Behind the scenes, the incognito cameraman (also known as @lando.jpg) and friends + family were ready and waiting. And, of course, there was the most crucial piece: the ring.

Carlos had purchased the engagement ring in secret, right after his victory in Silverstone last year. After missing Wimbledon, he had taken you to Tiffany's and let you choose an item of your liking. After much browsing, you settled on a gold pendant adorned with a delicate C. It was a symbol that served as a tactile reminder of the one you loved most, keeping him close to your heart no matter the distance.

On the way back to the hotel, you passed by Harry Winston, and there it was—the oval-shaped engagement ring of your dreams. You joked about how it could probably buy a few Ferraris, but Carlos couldn’t help but notice the undeniable sparkle in your eyes. He discreetly took note of your ring size by borrowing one of your rings from the bedside table while you were asleep. When he was away at a race, he seized the opportunity to purchase the ring, vowing to protect it until the perfect moment arrived.

After riding the exhilarating 360-degree looping roller coaster, you felt a surge of energy and pure adrenaline. As you made your way towards the Venetian gondolas, clutching your map in hand, you caught a glimpse of a couple wearing Mickey ears who looked just like Taylor and his girlfriend Morgan. The thought briefly crossed your mind, but you dismissed it, thinking it couldn’t possibly be them. DisneySea had done an incredible job recreating the charm of Venice, evoking memories of you and Carlos’ weekend getaway to the city last summer.

You waved at Carlos excitedly, his figure standing out among the rest. "Where's Lando?" you asked, scanning the crowd for the British racing driver. “I sent him on a mission to get us some pineapple smoothies," Carlos blurted out.

“You look pale and fidgety. What's going on?" you asked, noticing the unease in Carlos's demeanor. Normally, your ability to pick up on his emotions was something he cherished, but at this moment, he wished you were less perceptive. Carlos could feel his body trembling as he got down on one knee.

“Mi vida, I love you more than anything in this world. You’re the person I want to wake up with and go to bed beside for the rest of my life.” Carlos began, his voice filled with genuine affection. "Y/N, will you marry me?" he asked, his heart pounding in his chest.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and a surge of overwhelming joy filled your entire being. Jumping up and down with excitement, you exclaimed, "Yes!" Your jubilant shrieks filled the air as Carlos carefully slid the breathtakingly beautiful ring onto your finger.

Through your peripheral vision, you could see a crowd gathering around. It took a moment for it to sink in, but as you looked closer, you recognized the faces of Taylor, Lex, Caco, Rupert, Ana, and Lando with his trusty Leica camera. It all clicked into place – Lando had been in on the surprise from the beginning and had captured the entire proposal.

Overwhelmed with emotions, you grabbed Carlos' face and pulled him in for a passionate kiss, expressing your love and gratitude in that tender moment. Carlos beamed with pride, knowing that everything had gone according to plan. With a playful wink, he acknowledged Lando's involvement; “The smoothest operation of my life thanks to you, cabrón.” You playfully smacked Carlos, exploding in laughter.

Lando approached with his camera, a wide grin on his face. "I got it all, every precious moment," he said, showing you a glimpse of the photos on the camera's display. As you hugged him tightly, you felt a deep sense of comfort and security. You knew in that moment that you could count on Lando for life, that he would always be there for you through thick and thin.

As the day drew to a close, you and Carlos found yourselves sitting by the waterfront, hand in hand, reflecting on the whirlwind romance that had led you to this very moment. With the ring sparkling on your finger, you felt an immense sense of gratitude for the love you and Carlos shared. He brushed a strand of hair from your face and whispered, “I can't wait to spend forever with you, Mrs. Sainz.”

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, and 57,575 others

yourusername: came to tokyo as his girlfriend, leaving as his fiancée! still in awe of the fact that the boys managed to keep "el plan" from me for so long

carlossainz55: mi amor, mi vida. thanks for participating in the carlando food tour 🫶🏼

taylorfritz: you set the bar for proposals high, @carlossainz55 👏🏼 doubles with me and morgan soon?

alexafritz: the love you two have for each other is infectious and that ring is to die for 🤍 karaoke + shots on me tonight!

pierregasly: karaoke? @yukitsunoda0511 and i are in

fan1: i respect her for popping on here to announce their engagement but keeping the proposal private!

yourusername: you're the sweetest! as mother taylor once said, romance is not dead if you keep it just yours 💌

lando.jpg: engagement photographer available for hire (disclaimer: only available on non-race weekends)

yourusername: thanks for capturing our proposal and taking our engagement photos! 10/10 would recommend 🥹

fan2: the fact that lando was THE designated photographer! excuse me while i ugly cry

update: part three here ➡️

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oneforthemunny · 11 months

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what used to be mine |older!dilf!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: gina finds out that you and eddie got married.

age gap relationship. everything is consensual. set a few years after the initial series so the reader is 29 and Eddie is 45.

gina is eddie’s ex. brielle is his daughter with gina.

contains: older!eddie, dilf!eddie, language, gina, jealousy

Gina sat on the couch, coffee steaming on the table beside her, phone held lazily in her hand as she scrolled mindlessly through her phone. She could hear her mother's voice nagging her in the back of her mind, telling her she was so obsessed with other people'd lives, and maybe that's why she was so bored in her own. But Gina didn't care. She had to look, to be in the know.

Everything was typical, scrolling bored past the birthday posts, memes, and other updates about people she didn’t give two shits about on Facebook.

Then Gina saw it.

She stopped, eyes widening in disbelief.

Brielle Jo Munson was tagged in a photo!

Some person Gina didn’t recognize- someone who didn’t have her blocked like most of Eddie’s friends did- shared a string of photos, the caption reading.

‘Congrats to Mr. and Mrs. Munson! Wishing you both a lifetime of joy and happiness!’

There were the photos, Eddie and her walking down the aisle, some trendy, aesthetic venue. Her dress was stunning, and fit her like a glove. Gina gaped, scrolling, seeing Brielle in her bridesmaids dress, walking beside them, posing in photos with guest. Even having a dance with Eddie.

But none of that compared to the unexplainable rage that Gina felt when she saw the last picture. Eddie and her, he had her dipped down, a classic pose for a kiss, others waving sparklers for a photo op. Gina zoomed in, a stranger gasp leaving her lungs, heart rate rising, hammering in her chest.

The ring.

When Gina and Eddie had gotten married, he’d saved up and gone to a pawn shop, getting the best ring he could buy. A tiny diamond that she snarled at when he presented it to her- he’d worked countless hours overtime, even going back to giving guitar lessons and a night shift as a janitor at the plant to afford it. He’d promised her it was just until he could get a better one. They didn’t make it long enough for that to happen.

Though they weren’t together long, they were together long enough that Gina knew how close Eddie was to his mom before she passed. She’d seen the pictures at Wayne’s, and the one's Eddie kept in his wallet. She'd heard the stories, bittersweet and endearing. They'd even made Brielle's middle name Jo, in memory of departed and beloved Josephine.

Most importantly, she’d seen the ring- the ring he didn’t give her. His mother’s wedding ring, diamond cut and small. It was her mother’s before her, and her grandmother before that. Passed down to Eddie, a little under a carat, and on a dainty gold band. It was special. Eddie guarded it and protected it like Gollum, refusing to even take it out of the safe at Wayne’s except to show her once.

And there it was. On her finger.

Gina didn’t even register what she was doing until Henry came running in, frightened and concerned.

Gina screamed, hurt and angry, her chest heaving and cries spilling out with rage. She’d thrown her phone, leaving a dent in the wall where it landed. Pulling at her hair, she saw red, her vision blurring and dark.

Henry’s voice sounded distant, he was terrified. “Gina, honey, what-“

Gina rocked herself, deep heavy breaths that only fueled her rage, gas to a fire.

How could her have given her the ring? The ring that was hers! She had his child, and- Oh, that child- their child. Brielle. How could her daughter, her own fuckin’ flesh and blood, do this to her? Let her be blindsided like this! She could’ve talked to him! Convinced Eddie not to do it, she could convince him of anything. He didn’t love her. No, he couldn’t.

He loved Gina, Gina was sure of it.

Well, until those pictures. The love in his eyes, on everyone’s face. The fact that Eddie even had a wedding that big.

He never wanted that with Gina.

They’d had a shambled, put together wedding at the Hideout- the fuckin’ Hideout. Gina's parents hadn’t even showed up, and Jeff and Gareth were telling Eddie not to go through with it moments before she walked down the aisle. Brielle was in a carrier next to Wayne, and Gina had to leave to pump after the ceremony.

No one looked at them like that. Congratulated them, celebrated them.

Gina felt surges of jealousy, hurt, anger tear through her. She pushed past Henry and his rambling, scrambling to find her phone.

She picked it up, ignoring the crack down the middle from where she’d thrown it, clicking Brielle’s name.

The line rang, and rang, and rang.

“Hi, this is Brielle. I can’t get to my phone right now, but-“

Gina growled, huffing angrily as she hung up. Of course Brielle didn't answer. She hadn't in nearly two weeks. Gina twisted her lips furiously, pacing back and forth in the living room. She clicked on Eddie’s name, gripping the phone in a white-knuckled vice.

He picked up on the third ring.

“Yes, Gina?” Eddie sounded tired, annoyed already.

Gina laughed humorlessly. “You stupid, stupid fucker!” She roared.

Eddie winced, pulling the phone back. The two of you were packing for your honeymoon. You looked up, brows furrowed in confusion.

“How dare you? How fuckin’ dare you?” Gina boomed.

“Gina-“

“You get married, and you don’t tell me?” Gina screamed so loudly, static filled on the other end.

“It’s really not your business.” Eddie snapped. “You didn’t tell me when you and Henry-“

“Oh, don’t you dare.” Gina seethed. “Brielle told you, you sick fucker! Where is my baby, huh? What did you do to her?”

Eddie blinked, confused. “What?” He asked. “Gina, what are you talkin’ about?”

Gina scoffed. “My daughter! My daughter, not your child bride’s!” She screeched. An unfair low blow, sure, but she wanted to hurt him. Have him hurting like she was.

“My Brielle didn’t tell me shit! She didn’t tell me she was in town, or-or that you two were getting married! I found out on Facebook, Eddie!” Gina roared, but her heart ached. “Brielle hasn’t called me in two weeks! Two!”

Eddie’s face fell, running a hand over his scruff. He knew Brielle was distancing herself from Gina, he didn’t blame her. She had been too toxic for too long, but it still didn’t make his heart hurt any less at the ache in her voice. He didn’t want her to hurt like that, not with Brielle. Maybe if he was crueler, more like Gina, he would say it was her own fault, but he couldn’t.

“I don’t know what you’ve done to her, or-or what your little Lolita fuckin’ wife has done to brainwash her, but you’ve crossed a line, Edward!” Gina heaved. “That is my baby! My daughter, and you’ve taken her from me! What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything, Gina, Jesus!” Eddie screamed back, throwing his hands out.

You looked at him pleadingly. Eddie’s jaw was tight. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe she didn’t tell you because she knew you’d react like this?” Eddie snapped.

Gina faltered. Eddie never spoke to her like that. “Brielle is a grownup now, Gina. She can make her own choices. Neither one of us told her not to tell you. She made that call.” Eddie continued.

Gina felt her breath catch, heart hammering. She wouldn’t let him catch her vulnerable, hurt. “She’s not talking to me, Eddie, and that’s happening for a reason.” Gina snapped. “Is your new wife trying to replace me as her mother? You can tell that bitch she’s got another thing coming-“

“Hey,” Eddie barked. “I’m not doing this with you. You’re not going to talk about her like that, you got it?”

Your heart swelled slightly at his fierceness, protectiveness. Primal and strong, it made your legs clamp.

“You wanna know why Brie didn’t tell you? Ask Brielle. I don’t control what she does.” Eddie snapped.

Gina tilted her head back, keeping the tears that were threatening to fall. She clenched her jaw, breathing in deeply through her nose. “I told you,” she hissed, jaw still clamped shut to contain her emotions. “She’s- She’s not talking to me.”

Eddie fist loosened, looking at you. Your face shifted sympathetically, moving closer to hear the conversation better.

“Can you just tell me if she’s there?” Gina snapped, but even for her it was desperate, pitiful.

Eddie hesitated. “She’ll be in town for a while.” He said reluctantly. “Her and Madeline are house sitting for us while we’re gone.”

Gina felt her heart squeeze, ache. The honeymoon, it was the unspoken word. She never got a honeymoon with Eddie. Steve and Nancy had agreed to watch Brielle for the night so Eddie and Gina could have a night to themselves. That night was by far the best part of the entire wedding.

Gina took a deep breath in, pinching her eyes shut. “Could you-“ she stopped herself, fist clenching. She was embarrassed, begging Eddie like this to have him talk to her daughter. Having him hold control like this made her sick.

“Could you tell her to call me, please?” Gina asked, covering her mouth with her hand. “I-I won’t… Just tell her I want to catch up. I miss her.”

Your heart dropped, looking down the hall where Brielle sat, happy and contently catching up with your little sister. You didn’t blame her for wanting space, in some ways it was the best thing she could’ve done, but your heart still ached for Gina.

Eddie sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll tell her, Gina.” He said softly. “But I can’t promise anything. She’s not little anymore.”

“I know that, Edward.” Gina’s biting tone had returned, making you roll your eyes. There was a pause. “Fuck, just-just tell her to call me. I won’t…” Gina didn’t finish her sentence, but you all knew what she was going to say.

“Fine.” Eddie said. “I’ll tell her. Anything else?”

Gina scoffed, hanging up the phone. The line beeped and went dead, Eddie looking at you with wide eyes, exasperated and drained. Gina had that effect on people.

“Well,” You chirped. “That went better than I thought it would.”

Eddie chuckled, collapsing on the bed. “Yeah,” he nodded. He looked out towards Brielle, then back at you hesitantly. “She’s real upset about it all, but…” he took a deep breath. “I know she’s most hurt about Brielle.”

You ran a hand down his shoulders, squeezing them softly, your wedding bands glimmering in the light of the room. You pressed a kiss by your thumb, nuzzling into his back.

“I know.” You hummed. “That’s her daughter. I’m not saying Brie is wrong, but… I get it. Maybe she needs to be a little hurt to get better. Repair their relationship.”

Eddie nodded. “You don’t think I-“

“Eddie, don’t you even start.” You snapped sternly, pointing a finger at him. “I’ve watched for years as Gina was so horrible to me, and you, and everyone else we cared about- everyone Brielle cares about too.” You gave him a knowing look. “There’s only so much you can deal with before you don’t want to anymore.”

Eddie sighed slowly. “Yeah,” he agreed.

“You don’t know what happened when we weren’t around either. What Gina said to Brielle. Remember when she was so horrible to me when we first started dating? Because she didn’t want to upset Gina.”

Eddie nodded. “You're right.” He said slowly. “I’m not going to force Brielle, but… I’ll tell her Gina misses her.” He looked at you as if for your approval. “She asked me to, and I think that’s fair.”

You smiled, leaning forward to kiss him sweetly. “I think you should.” You whispered, your nose on his. “Then no more Gina talk. Get it out of your system now, because if I hear her name when we’re in Aruba, I’ll throw you in with the sharks.” You grinned.

Eddie smirked, hands gripping your waist and pinning you on the bed. “Oh, will you, Mrs. Munson?” He teased, tickling your sides. “Think you’re gonna get my retirement that easily, huh? My life insurance? I think you’ll be a little disappointed, bunny.”

You giggled, squirming out of his touch. “Stop!” You laughed, head tipping back in laughter. “Mercy! Mercy!”

Eddie grinned, his lips on yours, deep and passionate. Hands finding each other, gripping and squeezing, clinging to each other.

“Oh, God, not this again.” Brielle groaned.

“Ew!” Madeline retched dramatically. “Shut the door you freaks!”

You laughed, Eddie’s nose resting on yours. “Yeah, did you not learn the first time?” Brielle snapped teasingly. “I’m still traumatized.”

Eddie scoffed, leaning up. “You learned to knock before coming in, didn’t you?” He asked with a grin. She rolled her eyes.

Eddie looked over at you, pleadingly and you took the hint. “Hey, Maddy, can you help me pack a few things?” You asked, getting your sister away from Brielle so she and Eddie could talk in private.

Eddie shot you a thankful smile, arms wrapping around Brielle’s shoulder as they went into the living room. You rolled your clothes, chatting excitedly with your little sister about your trip. You wondered if Gina and Brielle would talk.

Gina was at home, Henry anxiously handing her Xanax and trying to pry her phone away from her clutches, terrified of the wrecked woman in front of him. Gina started blankly ahead, her own wedding with Eddie playing in her mind.

Her mind kept flashing back to the ring. The smiles. Every photo she’d seen of the two of you.

Gina grit her teeth, fist balling. She was angry, hurt. Not just because Brielle hadn’t told her she was in town, but because it was official for the first time in her delusional mind.Eddie wasn’t hers anymore. He was yours.

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effortandmore · 1 year

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worth all your while (ch.1) | knj x reader

summary: you know kim namjoon from your work, but running into him outside of seoul tips your relationship into new territory and your world upside down. eventually, you wonder how there can be a million ways to say "i love you," and namjoon, a literal genius, can't manage a single one when it comes to you. or: 5 times namjoon can't make himself say "i love you" but thinks you understand him anyway (you do not), and then the one time he gets it right

pairing: namjoon x f!reader

rating: explicit (18+ please)

genre: smut, fluff, light angst, au: famous, but not an idol

warnings: smut, swearing, alcohol, here are the specific smut tags for this chapter: kissing, penetrative sex, fingering, spanking, sex in an airport bathroom (do not recommend, fwiw)

word count: ~5.5k

a/n: idk what to say! i needed to write a fic for yoongi's birthday, but i can't for some reason, so i'm writing this. i hope you enjoy 💜 i'll update chapters probably weekly, maybe bi-weekly, isn't it fun when some things in life are mysteries? the title is from "static" by steve lacy - i love him. thank you as always to the cabal: @ugh-yoongi, @hot-soop, and @the-boy-meets-evil for putting your eyes on this for me. love you all. this is posted to ao3 here if you like to read fics there.

next chapter

Unpopular opinion: airports are magical places.

You didn’t always think that, but you’ve changed. Opinion swayed. All it took was one delay on a layover in London for you to start singing a different tune.

Seoul to anywhere feels like a long flight lately. You love it there, but getting out, back to where you’re from, takes literal days. The short break at Heathrow is welcome, a chance to move around a little before you get on another almost ten hour flight. It seems like a nothing thing, to wander through the concourses and shops after you’ve made it through the customs check. Each time you’re here is the same as the last. Until it’s not. You’ve done it a hundred times: sniff different scents at Jo Malone, look for a bag you shouldn’t spend the money on at Louis Vuitton, talk yourself out of buying duty-free scotch because you know you’d never drink it in front of your mother anyway… Maybe on the way home, you think (but you never do).

“Excuse me.” You’re staring at the Balvenie you can’t really afford, thoughts drifting, when someone startles you.

“Sorry,” you mumble, stepping to the side.

There’s a man there, right there. He’s stepped up close so that your arms are practically touching. He’s tall, with dark hair under a beanie, an expensive jacket that’s made to look like it isn’t, and his face hidden under a mask that isn’t required here. There’s something about him, even though you can only see a stripe of his face, that looks familiar. For some reason, neither of you move; he keeps staring at the thousand-pound bottle of scotch, and you keep staring at him.

“You can’t drink it on the plane, you know?” You say it more than you ask it, and of course he knows. Everyone knows. But you see the corners of his eyes crinkle a little and you think he’s smiling under the mask. He finally turns to look at you.

“Was thinking I’d get it as a gift,” he explains, shrugging his shoulders.

“Nice gift,” you remark.

“Yeah…” he replies, turning his attention back to the bottle. “It’s pretentious, isn’t it?”

And at that, you smile. “Maybe a little. Depends on who it’s for.”

“No one special.”

“It’s none of my business,” you say, “but I wouldn’t buy ‘no one special’ a hundred-pound bottle of scotch, let alone a thousand-pound bottle.”

The man laughs, and you notice another guy walk up, right next to him. He’s bigger, older, and way too serious looking for your taste. They seem to have a silent conversation and then the would-be whisky buyer turns back to you. “Time for my flight,” he says. “Thanks for the advice.”

“Anytime,” you nod, still smiling even though you can’t tell anymore if he’s smiling back. Can’t hurt to be polite.

After he goes, you realize you aren’t going to buy the scotch, either, and it’s probably about time for your flight, too, so you start the scramble to your gate.

One of the bad things about flying all the time is that you feel like you see more than your fair share of delays. And this trip is no different. When you make it to the gate, you can sense the panic before you even see the notification. There’s a particular brand of hysteria that sets in with people when their flights are delayed, and it’s amplified with inter-continental flights in your experience. All of the things that make airports romantic and interesting are the same things that make people think they can behave any way they want and it won’t matter. It's like upon entering, people think they get carte blanche to be raging assholes to the poor airline counter guy who’s just trying to make sure everyone gets where they’re going and probably only makes enough to barely pay his rent.

So, you know before you’re told that there’s a delay, and you can tell by the level ten panic around you that it’s probably a long one. It’s confirmed when you see the headlines across one of the large televisions at the gate. Big storm off the coast of the Eastern US. All flights are delayed from what you can tell. Yours looks to have a delay of about six hours, but you know from experience it could be more. You’ll just have to wait and see. You’re lucky, you want to get home, but there’s really not a huge rush on your end, so you can wait it out if you need to.

There’s a quiet spot at a gate with no pending flight, near yours and a few of the other gates with international flights scheduled to leave. You hate sitting, knowing you’ve done it for a half a day already and have another long flight (eventually) in front of you, but you don’t know what else to do and at least you have a couple books in your carry on.

Maybe thirty minutes passes of you reading when you look up, just to see how things are settling around you as people start to either (like you) become resigned to the fact that they’re not going anywhere for a while, or let their anger hit a fever pitch with the gate agent.

You see a familiar fancy jacket waiting near the ticket counter, his friend from earlier having an animated chat with a woman who doesn’t seem like she speaks enough Korean to be keeping up. Fancy Coat is watching, looking amused and not chiming in, even though you know firsthand he can speak English perfectly well, and could probably be a help to his travel companion.

Because you’re one of those people who can never do things as subtly as you think you do, you’re caught out—Nice Jacket turns his head and his eyes lock with yours before you can look away; he knows you’re watching. He tilts his head, eyes widening with what you hope is amusement and not terror that you were looking. Slowly, he brings his hand up and waves at you, then gives you a gesture like he wants you to wait for something before he leans in and says something to his friend.

You turn back to your book, embarrassed.

A considerable chunk of whatever willpower you have is used in Not Looking when you hear (and feel) someone plop into the chair next to you.

“Good book?” Nice Jacket asks.

“Mmhmm,” you murmur, trying not to make things any weirder than you’ve already made them by staring. It is, in fact, not a good book. But your colleague wrote it, and he’s the special kind of narcissist that will ask you what you thought of it every day you see him until you provide some sort of satisfactory feedback kissing his ass.

“That guy’s a jackass,” he comments.

And that gets your attention. You turn to him, a little surprised. “You know him?”

Nice Jacket nods, eyebrows raised. “Do you not remember me?” he asks.

“From the duty-free shop?”

He laughs, louder than he means to judging by how he stops himself and looks around self-consciously. “No… I think you’ve interviewed me before…”

Things begin to snap into place rapidly. Because now that he says it, he goes from looking vaguely familiar to being instantly recognizable. You don’t really keep up with him or his music, but you have interviewed him, when your asshole colleague had passed one of his assignments to your desk, assuming you’d “like that kind of thing.”

At the time, you’d tried not to let yourself assume the worst about what he meant, and you did the interview over Zoom with no protest to your coworker or your boss. It wasn’t the kind of thing your magazine usually wrote about, but the article was focused on his art collection, and it gave you a good opportunity to learn something you wouldn’t have in a gossip magazine, and a chance to look good for your boss. The whole thing hadn’t lasted more than eight minutes, professional and easier than most of your interviews. Since then, you’ve been in the same room as him a few times at events you’d covered, exchanged greetings and appreciations on both sides for the article, and obviously, you know who he is.

He’s famous, but not like… idol famous. Stage name RM, he’s a rapper and producer who works with a small collective. You see him in magazines and on TV, his popularity growing over the last few years less for his music and more for his work in art preservation.

“Oh my god…” you say, closing your book and dropping your voice to a whisper. “Kim Namjoon. I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize it was you.”

“Good,” he says with a wink. “That’s the point.” He gestures vaguely to his beanie and his mask and the sunglasses he took off when he sat down next to you.

“How are you?” you ask, because it’s polite, and that’s what you should do, even though you’re not even sure why he’s sitting here speaking to you.

“Alright,” he says, but you notice he seems a little amused.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He raises his hands defensively.

“No, what? Why’s it funny to ask how you’re doing?”

Namjoon doesn’t say anything for a second, just watches you with his head cocked. “I guess no one ever really asks me that,” he says.

You scoff. “That’s ridiculous.”

What’s more ridiculous is that you’re sitting in Heathrow having a conversation with this sort of famous person who you kind of know, but not in a “run into you in the airport and have a casual chat” kind of way. Or maybe it is like that, because that’s exactly what happens.

You talk about how he’s doing (pretty well but tired from traveling and ready to be settled in his hotel). Then you talk about your asshole coworker and his not-very-good book. You laugh at a story he tells you about said coworker, and you feel your face heat up when he says how relieved he was that you interviewed them instead of anyone else from your magazine, and how much he’d liked talking to you that day. He’s bluntly honest with you about his preference for doing interviews with Korean-language publications, which you completely understand. He tells you that he didn’t mind doing an interview for your small English-language one because you at least greeted him in Korean and tried out a couple questions in the language.

“It’s my job to make people feel comfortable,” you say flippantly. It’s true, it is your job, and you talk to a lot of sort-of-famous people and their people, so you know that at the end of the day, they’re just people. You get better results and better interviews when you treat them as such. When you tell Namjoon that, you can see him grinning under his mask, you can tell for sure this time by the way the corners of his eyes pinch.

“That’s a nice way to think of it,” he finally says. “It’s good to be treated like Namjoon and not RM sometimes.”

“Happy to be of service,” you say.

Before you can say more, you’re interrupted by his friend, who you now understand isn’t exactly a friend but a manager or a bodyguard or some combination of both. He explains that it’ll be a few hours, that there aren’t any other flight options, and that he and Namjoon can go make themselves a little more comfortable in the airport lounge. It’s spoken like a suggestion, but the way he side-eyes you as he speaks makes you certain it’s more of a directive. Namjoon nods along until his manager tells him, in hushed Korean, that he can’t just sit out in the open talking to strangers.

“She’s not a stranger,” he says, clearly pleased with himself.

After a brief explanation that you’re an acquaintance (which is how Namjoon puts it and is a little more generous than you would have been), his manager lightens up, and even keeps his mouth shut when Namjoon invites you to come with them to the lounge. He does, however, insist on walking alongside you when you agree to go with them, making Namjoon walk a little ways in front of you both. Better safe than sorry, you suppose, even though no one seems to be paying any attention to the three of you.

At the lounge, his manager has a brief conversation with the airline employee at the desk, and then the three of you are whisked through the entrance, past the service desk and the bar, and into a small, private room at the back of the lounge. Namjoon puts his bag down and moves to the coffee machine, pausing to ask if you want anything as he fumbles with the stack of cups there. Cute. The professional in you hates that you even had that thought pass through your mind, but the rest of you doesn’t mind. He is cute, he gets paid to be cute (at least partially), he knows he’s cute. You have eyes, so obviously you see it, too.

His manager unceremoniously pulls an eye mask and headphones out of his bag, seats himself in the corner, and announces he’s going to try and sleep and to wake him up if anything interesting happens, leaving the two of you essentially on your own.

When you have your drinks, you pull your masks off, settle into loungers in the opposite corner of the room, and start talking again. It comes easily between the two of you—you’re used to asking questions and he’s used to answering them. He’s going to New York for a “personal schedule,” and you don’t ask for more details because you know he wouldn’t give them to you anyway. His whole face lights up when he tells you about an exhibit at the Whitney he’s hoping to catch, about how he’s willing to suffer through the jet lag for a glimpse at a certain Hockney that he probably won’t ever see in Korea.

Eventually, the tables turn a little, and he starts asking you about your own life. It’s less interesting (in your opinion) than his, but he’s a good listener, and asks good questions. He seems really excited (and remembers, to your surprise) that you’re an arts reporter, asks what you’re writing about lately, asks if you’ve seen anything new that caught your eye, even asks you for gallery recommendations around Seoul. You have a few, and he actually jots down notes in his literal notebook while you speak, claiming he’ll forget which you recommended if he doesn’t write it down. Cute again.

Hours pass, and you’d swear it’s only been a few minutes. It’s been a long time since you talked with someone like this—leisurely, candidly (or as candid as he can be, anyway). You get food brought to you by an airline employee, and you know it’s an upgrade from what’s being served in the rest of the lounge, but Namjoon isn’t phased at all. You suppose this is his normal, so there’s nothing out of the ordinary for him.

“I can’t believe you get special food,” you say when you’ve finished.

“Special food?”

“Well yeah, they’re not serving anything other than soup and crackers out there. Maybe carrot sticks.”

“Oh…” he says quietly, brow furrowed, like he’s really thinking about it. “Do you think I should ask them to bring barbeque to everyone else?” You actually think he means it. So fucking cute, you think.

After you talk him out of wielding his influence, mostly using the argument that it would be an immense amount of work for the airline staff, you settle in again. He produces a blanket from a cabinet against one of the walls of the room, and it’s an obvious sign this whole experience is totally typical for him. When he hands you the blanket, you can’t help it, you smile at him and probably look a little smitten. You might just be.

You offer him part of the blanket, and he accepts, pulling it over his lap and asking you if he took too much. (He didn’t). You talk more, and you feel relaxed with him—it’s so easy to forget he’s who he is and you’re who you are. It’s just like getting to know any other casual acquaintance better except he’s stupid good-looking and you start to notice that your faces are a lot closer together than they started out as you talk about Marci Kwon and the interesting work that the Asian American Art Initiative is doing. It was the last article you’d written, and you’re surprised to hear he’s read it.

You’re saying something about non-hierarchical modes of presenting research in art when you realize he’s not listening anymore, just staring at you intently. You’ve been talking a lot. For a while… Maybe talking too much; maybe he’s bothered.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

His eyes widen like he’s the one who’s been caught-out this time. “I’m really good,” he says, almost like he’s surprising himself.

It makes you beam. “Good,” you say. “I’ve liked talking to you.”

He nods. “I’ve liked talking to you, too. You have a lot to say.”

The fact that you can feel his breath on your face when he speaks makes you certain that you’re sitting too close, that something is happening that probably shouldn’t be. It makes you forget that “you have a lot to say” isn’t always a good thing. You think that everything might sound good when it comes from his mouth, that even the worst insult would trickle out like honey. Your heart rate has picked up, you now notice, and you both keep just staring at each other—you don’t know why you don’t move or look away, it’s like you can’t even though you know you should.

Namjoon’s eyes flick up behind you to where his manager is, and you can hear the man snoring, so you know he’s not aware at all of what’s happening right in front of him.

“They don’t have cameras in here,” Namjoon says. “It’s why we come here.”

You nod, nothing to say to that—you’re not even sure why he said it unless…

“Can I kiss you?”

That is the exact moment when every coherent and rational thought you have ever had rushes out of your brain like a waterfall. You’re not even sure how you manage to respond, but this very cute, very smart, very interesting person has just expressed interest in you of all people, and you’d be an idiot not to say yes.

“Oh my god, please,” you say all in one hurried breath.

And before you’re even finished, his lips are on yours. It’s soft, more chaste than you’d expected, but it doesn’t stay that way when he nips at your bottom lip and licks into your mouth. One of his hands comes to the back of your neck, fingers teasing at your hair and pulling you closer as you practically melt into him. It’s a good kiss, a fantastic kiss, and all you can think is more, more, more as the two of you try and do your best to be as close as you can over the armrests of the stupid lounge chairs.

When you part, his eyes are a little wild, and you think yours must be, too.

“I have to wake him up soon,” he says, looking past you. “It’s almost time for our flight.”

You glance over your shoulder at his manager who’s still totally unaware of what’s happening around him, and then stand, offering a hand to Namjoon, too.

It’s a rare moment of boldness, but something’s come over you, and you’re acting with very little thought as to what you’re doing and how stupid it probably is. “Come on,” you say, tugging him up. When he’s standing right in front of you, you put your hands on his chest and raise up on your tiptoes to whisper, “Let’s get out of here for a minute.”

He wipes across his bottom lip with his thumb, pausing probably to think about what you’re implying, and then he bends to kiss you quickly before he agrees. “Okay, yeah, let’s go.”

It’s not your fault that you know where the ‘family restroom’ is—you passed by it on the way to the back of the lounge and you notice things, you remember things.

You hope he doesn’t think you do this kind of thing all the time, or ever, although you don’t know why you care what he thinks since you’re also willfully oblivious to any looks you might be getting from any passersby who see you tug him into the room behind you.

It’s sheer luck that your go-to travel outfit is a fairly basic knit dress. It takes him no time to have you pinned up against the door, lips on your neck, hand rucking up the front of your dress so that he can get a hand under your tights. God, it feels good. He feels good, large and solid and his fingers… fuck. They’re long and nimble and he’s clearly not new to this, but neither are you, so you roll your hips forward and moan at the contact when he slips his hand under your tights.

“You’re already wet,” he says, surprised, pulling his head back so he can look at you properly, his fingertips skimming between your legs.

You nod and pull him back in to kiss you again—you only know a few things about Kim Namjoon, but you already know you like talking to him, and now you know you like his lips on yours even more than that.

“Come here,” you say, and slide away from the door, pulling him with you so that you can bend over the small vanity where you can see yourselves in the mirror above it. He’s been polite, almost too nice for what you’re in the mood for, and you don’t know if he’ll take the initiative, so you lock eyes with him in the mirror and slide your tights down from under your dress, stepping out of them one leg at a time.

In the mirror, you watch as he tentatively sticks a hand out to feel you again, groaning when his fingertips slide against you so easily. One, then quickly two fingers enter you, slowly moving in and out, and he studies your reflection, like he’s trying to learn what you like. It’s a lot of effort for a one-night stand in a Heathrow airline lounge. He pulls his joggers down; he’s already hard, feels big against your ass and the back of your thigh.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he sighs. It’s apparently not lost on him how you watch him in the mirror, pupils blown, because then he asks, “You want to watch me fuck you?” He winds the fingers of his free hand around a handful of your hair and tentatively pulls your head up so he can look you in the eye through the mirror.

You watch him focus on you nodding and pulling your bottom lip between your teeth; he drops your hair as he stares. He has to know already how much you want it, but he makes you say it anyway.

“Tell me you want to see me make you come,” he whispers into the back of your neck, breath hot against the shell of your ear. Behind you, he’s rolling on a condom that seems to have appeared out of nowhere—you wonder if he had one in his pocket ‘just in case.’

You smirk, widen your eyes, and nod again. “Please? Will you fuck me? I want—” You pause to turn your head over your shoulder and kiss him again. “I want to watch you make me come.”

Holding onto your hip, he pushes his cock, thick and flushed, into you quickly; you don’t have much more time before his flight.

He groans as he starts thrusting, pulling almost all the way out slowly before snapping back into you.

“Oh shit…” you whisper each of the first few times he pushes into you.

Your head falls as he fucks you—It’s so good, he’s deep deep deep, and you feel so full, and you might cry it’s been so long since someone’s fucked you like this… But he wants your attention, so he brings a hand up and slaps you lightly along the back of your thigh to get you to look up.

It wasn’t hard, but you’re barely acquaintances, so he seems to hesitate, looking to your reflection for reassurance. In return, you look him straight in the eye and let out a moan.

“You wanted to watch, so watch,” he whispers.

“Do it again... please,” you plead softly as you raise your head and push your hips back against him.

He lifts the other hand and strikes the swell of your ass this time, harder than the first slap, making you suck in a breath. White knuckles grip the sides of the sink as your skin turns pink, but you’re still smirking and soaking wet, asking for more as he grips your hips to fuck you harder.

“Harder… I need you… feels so good,” you pant.

You move to lean on an elbow and bring your other hand down to your clit. His hand follows yours and moves it out of the way as he leans forward to whisper, “I thought you wanted me to make you come.”

“Then do it.”

Namjoon slows the movements of his hips to focus on you, rubbing circles over your clit with his fingertips and sucking on your neck, right against your pulse point, sending shivers along the length of your spine.

He rolls his hips into her as you grind against him, whimpering quietly, “Fuck, Joon… yes… oh, fuck…” You trail off, not able to focus on anything except his hands and his cock. You don’t even care that you’re already using nicknames with him.

“Finally got you to stop talking so much,” he teases as he works you nearer to orgasm.

You’d laugh, okay with being teased, except you’re practically shaking now, close to release, so he puts more pressure on your clit and moves his cock in you a little less deep, hitting you exactly where you need him each time.

God, you look good together. There’s a sweat sheen on your foreheads, his cheeks are painted with a rose blush, and your eyes are wide, watching yourself with curiosity in the mirror as you start to come.

You’re close, so close, tightening on his cock as he lets go of your hip and puts a hand over your mouth just in time to muffle the loud cry you make when your orgasm hits.

Your cunt pulses around him and he drags his hands slowly away from it and your mouth, back to your hips.

“You ready?” he whispers.

“Good girl,” he affirms as you nod, and that absolutely shouldn’t have you ready to come on his cock again, but maybe you have a praise kink you didn’t know about. You whimper when he starts fucking into you again, resuming his previous faster pace.

It doesn’t take long for Namjoon to come after that, with you babbling nonsense about how good his cock is and begging for him to come inside you. He thrusts into you one last time and releases into the condom, watching in the mirror as you give him a satisfied grin and roll your hips with his.

When he pulls out of you, he drops to his knees and kisses you where he’d left a handprint on your ass. It makes your breath hitch, feels too intimate for people barely know one another and who’ve just fucked in an airport bathroom. But then he pulls you up to standing, smoothing your dress around your legs. He grabs a bundle of toilet paper and hands it to you to wipe up.

“Look at you,” you tease, “what a gentleman.”

He pulls his joggers up and watches you flush the tissue while he discards the condom. You fiddle around for your tights and slide them on under your dress.

When you’re finished, you lean against the sink and watch him—he’s cute like this: face still flushed, hair mussed, and most of all, he looks as nervous as you’re starting to feel.

“I don’t do this kind of thing,” you say. Your voice is a little wobbly, and you wonder where any of the self-assurance you’d had earlier when you dragged him into the room has gone to.

Namjoon laughs, bright and dimpled, before he replies. “Fuck, me either. I mean… people sometimes… know who I am and I have to be careful.” The last words come out in a rush.

“Careful how?”

He looks fully embarrassed now. “LIke my manager is going to kick my ass when we walk out of here and… well, people back home would have a field day with this if someone saw.”

You’re not even sure what to say to that. Because of course you know who he is, you get that he’s famous, but the thought of talking about this with anyone just seems… It’s not like it makes you look very good either, so you’d never. It would be professional suicide; you’d never be taken seriously again. You spit out the next words mindlessly, just trying to make it less awkward. “You think this was the ‘something interesting’ we were supposed to wake him up for?” Namjoon just looks at you like you’re nuts before you both burst into laughter.

When you catch your breath again, you get a little more serious, your voice softer. “I’ll sign something. Whatever we should have done before, we can do it now, you can email me or whatever. God, this is crazy…” You trail off, consequences of what you’ve done starting to sink in.

“Okay… Thank you,” he says. “I hate how awkward this is. I’m sorry.”

You cross your arms over your chest, suddenly feeling a lot more vulnerable than you can ever remember feeling. Is he sorry that you did this together or is he sorry that it’s awkward? You don’t really know. Maybe it’s both.

“This was a mistake,” you say without thinking, and his face falls.

“You think that?” he asks quietly, stepping into your space and reaching out to stroke your arms gently. “Because I really don’t. I know things are complicated with me? But… I liked you when I met you for the interview, I liked you today, and I’d like to see you again. I really wouldn’t have done this if I didn’t think anything would come of it. I’m not that kind of guy.”

“Aren’t all guys that kind of guy?” you ask, wondering if he’s even for real.

“No,” he says. And you think he’s sincere. “Really. I’ve never done something like this before.”

You nod, uncrossing your arms and letting your hands slide into his. “So, we should go though… You have a flight to catch, and I guess I have an NDA to sign.” You’re trying to tease, but you think you probably just sound fucking terrified.

“Can I have your number?” he asks.

“For the NDA,” you affirm, taking the phone he’s sticking out to you and typing in your contact info.

“And for a date, maybe?” he says. And when you look up at him, he looks bashful, nervous even, as if you could ever say no to this man with a big brain and a dick to match who has just made you feel at least twelve new things in the last few hours.

“I’ll be back in Seoul in two weeks,” you say, handing him his phone back.

He smiles wide at that, and leans in to kiss your cheek. Cute again.

“I’ll call you,” he says eagerly. “And someone will be in touch about the paperwork… Sorry again.”

“Not your fault.” You shrug. “But you should head out first so it looks less weird, probably. I’ll freshen up for a minute and then be out in a bit.”

“Right,” he agrees. “Okay. So… I’ll see you in Seoul?”

You can’t help but be endeared to him; the fact that he seems to think you might actually not want to see him again makes you go all squishy inside. “It’s a date,” you confirm.

“Great! Okay… I’m gonna just… go now.” He points at the door, fumbling behind himself for the latch, like he doesn’t want to break eye contact with you.

“Okay, Namjoon… It was good to run into you and…” You hate that you can’t say anything coherent, your sentence just ending in, “stuff.”

He laughs and pulls his mask back on. “It was good to run into you and stuff, too.”

Finally, he’s got the door unlocked, and before he slips back into the lounge he says, “I’m really going to call you, okay?”

You aren’t sure why, but you believe him when he says it even though you know better, and all the weird feelings you’ve been having about him come together in a bright firework feeling in your chest. Something like hope, maybe.

“Talk to you soon,” you say quietly.

And then he’s gone, and you’re left breathless, wondering what you’ve just done.

next chapter

#bts fanfic #namjoon fic #namjoon smut #namjoon imagine #bts smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #bts fic #bts writing #fic: wayw

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lesbianjoannaharvelle · 1 year

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Jo's Birthday Special Day 1

Pairing: Dean x Jo

Words: 1173

I am gonna start this week with something shocking: a fic where Jo is NOT a lesbian!

I wrote a short DeanJo fic where she comes back from the dead and he visits her at the Roadhouse. Enjoy!

Thank you for Cawis @kerryweaverlesbian for beta reading!

[read on ao3]

#me? writing deanjo stuff in the year 2023? it's more likely than you think <3 #jo birthday special #deanjo #my fics #jo harvelle

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crimsonsposts · 9 months

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you forgot their birthday | &team

hello?? it’s impossible to forget his birthday. this man will text you on the twentieth october eleven-fifty nine p.m. to remind you it’s his birthday in a minute. he’d shamelessly beg for a happy birthday as well. only to gloat over it once he got his wishes.

fuma

he wants to be mature about it, but he just can’t. he’d spend the rest of the day just thinking about it. “is this a prank? please be a prank.” can’t sleep either. he’d then proceed to convince himself that it’s ok you forgot. “i mean, the anniversary’s more important right? right.”

nicholas

is going crazy because of it. almost gonna rip his hair out at the realisation that he’s not bothered that you forgot about it. he’s bothered at the fact that he cares so much. this could’ve been his dad that forgot, but he couldn’t care less. but you!! “nooooo…! please remember!!” will make you remember it somehow. and then will never live this down. this will become his teasing material to tease you with for months to come.

is very mature about it. he’s sad but understands that these things slip one’s mind sometimes, no matter how important that person is. he just takes it as in, maybe you’re busy. “it’s okay.” he repeats to himself. and ej gets by as if nothing is bothering him.

:) ⇦ his face the entire time

yuma

is bamboozled. he’s having a wide ray of changing emotions. at first he’s bummed and sad you don’t remember. and then somehow thinks it’s funny as well. and then he’s grumpy. he comes home buying you a gift to see your “oh shit” realisation. and ended up enjoying your flustered face which he thinks it’s impossible to be this cute. he ended up winning that day.

he doesn’t think it’s a big deal. other than the initial bummer, he gets over it fairly fast. to be fair, if it wasn’t for the members screaming a happy birthday on his face, jo could’ve forgotten about it as well. so he thinks it alright if you do. in fact, i think this man could’ve just think that you cooking rice in the morning for breakfast is the “happy birthday”.

harua

is not okay with it. will be very blunt about it. he’s very big on transparency. he’d calmly tell you how it stings and is sorta hurt by it. he makes you pinky promise him that it won’t happen next time and that you’ll remember. then you buy him a ton of candy, so he’s okay again :)

taki

like a flower that has been stomped. he does not take it too well. he likes birthdays. he thinks it’s the most special occasion. i mean, when else do one get a whole day dedicated to themself? he’d lose his light for the entire day. his energy has been snuffed out and will be emoting until you wish him a happy birthday.

maki

is super bothered. he’d deliberately ask you, “aren’t you forgetting something~?” but will not say it directly to you. he has this weird thing where he wants you to figure it out yourself for it to ‘count’. until then he won’t stay still. he’d deliberately be in a festive mood to give you a not so subtle hints.

ahh my last and first post is well received. i’m so so happy that people are interacting (≧∀≦)

i don’t know much about tumblr. and &team is my first group i write for! please don’t be afraid to say hi to me ❤︎

#&team x reader #&team fanfic #&team imagines #&team headcanon #&team fluff #&team scenarios #&team k #&team fuma #&team nicholas #&team ej #&team yuma #&team jo #&team harua #&team taki #&team maki #&team #andteam

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ma1dita · 8 months

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the masterlist

welcome to jo's journey to falling in love with writing again 🤍

requests are currently open! ask to be part of any taglist 🥂

last edited: 3/22/24

tags to look out for: #made by ma1dita ♥︎ (original works) #for my gn babies (づ ◕‿◕ )づ

hp!verse

top hits: marauders era

riordanverse

top hits: luke castellan & jason grace

criminal minds universe

top hits: spencer reid (coming soon!)

special events

jo's 23rd birthday bash!

1k celebration

#marauders x reader #remus lupin x reader #james potter x reader #luke castellan x reader #sirius black x reader #regulus black x reader #jo's navi <3 #made by ma1dita ♥︎

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sweetkpopmusings · 1 year

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stray kids soulmate aus | h. hyunjin <3

a/n: eeeeeee my favorite kind of aus: soulmate aus!!! i was going to put all of the boys' pieces in the same post, but i could not resist writing more than a short blurb for them, so they are each getting their own post :,-) i'll add links to each of their names as i post these ! i'm not doing them in any particular order, but it felt right to start with the love of my life, hyunjin <33 pics not mine~

content: fluff, soulmate au | wc: 1.3k | warnings: none! | pairing: soulmate!hyunjin x gn!reader | requests: open

each soulmate has half a quote that is important to their relationship tattooed on their body.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

hyunjin rubbed his fingers over that one spot on his collarbone. i remember we broke into. i remember we broke into. i remember we broke into. those words, the half of a whole, were the only tie he had to you. touching that engraving on his flesh was the closest he could come to being held by you, and he craved that comfort the most when his heart raced like this.

today was the kind of day hyunjin wished would wrap up sooner than later. he knew it wouldn’t, not when the sun had only recently risen and his day had started hours ago. days like this, full of schedules, full of practice, full of work, full of stress–these were the days that went on forever. adrenaline and caffeine buzzed through his body. hyunjin was ready to race through the day, fully aware that his limbs would ache at the finish line, leaving him with nothing to do but collapse into rest as soon as it was over.

i remember we broke into. i remember we broke into. i remember we broke into.

hyunjin had missed chan calling his name five times, forcing his eyes to turn in the general direction of chan’s whereabouts when he finally replied, “yeah?”

“we are going to the convenience store. want to come with?”

chan’s question came out as more of a suggestion, and hyunjin did not need much convincing to get a change of scenery. he caught up with his members, walking quickly at the back of the group, his feet falling on the ground in a steady beat of i remember we broke into. maybe the stress had his mind too jumbled to be down on earth. maybe he was lost in questions of what in the world the other half of that quote could be. maybe he was annoyed that he forgot to bring his good sunglasses on a day the sun was shining brightly. maybe he simply yearned for his bed and a break. regardless of the reason, something preoccupied hyunjin, which caused him to bump his shoulder against someone else’s body.

“ah!” hyunjin grabbed his shoulder.

“i’m sorry! are you okay?”

one of your hands clasped the shoulder with which you had hit hyunjin. in your other hand, you held something that captured all of hyunjin’s attention: a banana man plushie, fitted with a deadpan expression and a bright yellow hoodie. hyunjin, without registering much else of the situation, burst out laughing. you were surprised by this, to say the least. however, once you followed his gaze and saw that he couldn’t take his eyes off your friend’s birthday gift in your hand, you burst into laughter yourself. that banana man, in that moment, was the funniest thing in the world. you and hyunjin knew that for a fact when you felt your stomachs cramp and ache from the laughter. the way that you two were giggling and fighting for air was nothing short of contagious, so all the people walking around you started to believe that the plushie was top-tier entertainment. not that either of you noticed, when all of your attention was focused on something special between you.

hyunjin took a gasp of air he desperately needed. while the banana man was captivating, he looked toward the source of the laughter that mixed so sweetly with his own, and he found you. for the first time that day, his eyes completely focused on the world in front of him. hyunjin couldn’t look away, and, heart fluttering with a joy and excitement he didn’t quite understand, he smiled and savored the sound of your final chuckles. after you caught your breath, you absentmindedly massaged the point of contact on your shoulder, and you waited for hyunjin to answer your previous question. he stared at you, confusion furrowing his brow slightly, until he felt a small pang in his shoulder and remembered you two had just crashed into each other.

“yeah, yeah, i–i am. sorry, are you..are you okay?”

you nodded, endeared by his light laughs lingering in the air, the way he stumbled over words as he caught his breath, and his brown eyes. there was a pause, so you moved your hand away from your shoulder to grab your bag, though you had absolutely no intention to leave. something held you there; this moment between you and the beautiful boy in front of you wasn’t meant to end yet (or, at least, you weren’t ready for it to). unbeknownst to you, that simple movement of your hand revealed a tattoo just like hyunjin’s. the words were different, but the script, placement, size, and even the slant of it beneath your collarbone was a mirror image of the words hyunjin carried on his body.

laughter when we saw each other.

hyunjin’s heart raced.

laughter when we saw each other.

his pulse found a new rhythm, one his mind fell perfectly into step with, as his eyes danced across each letter on your skin.

laughter when we saw each other. laughter when we saw each other. laughter when we saw each other.

hyunjin’s jaw dropped. you looked back at the wide-eyed man, unsure as to why you telling him that you were okay after your collision was shocking news.

“i remember we broke into laughter when we saw each other,” hyunjin said softly.

you heard him perfectly clear, though you weren’t entirely sure what he meant by that, so you teased him, “we did just see each other, so i hope you’d remember that.”

he smiled, another quick laugh falling from his lips as he moved his shirt collar to reveal the words on his collarbone, “i remember we broke into laughter when we saw each other.”

now your jaw dropped, “oh my god.”

a flurry of butterflies unleashed in hyunjin’s stomach because he couldn’t believe how cute you looked when shock and wonder filled your expression, but he managed to ask, “do you know what it’s from?”

“no, i–”

your answer was interrupted by chan calling out hyunjin’s name. hyunjin whipped his head toward him, signaled with a wave of his hand that he’d be there shortly, and returned his attention to you. you stared at his collarbone, seeing the tattooed words clearly, despite the fabric of his shirt covering them. he giggled as he reached his hand out to you, a new contact page opened on his phone.

without having to think, you accepted the phone and typed in your number, “i don’t think i’ve heard that before.”

“well, i have to go back to work, but would you be able to look it up and send me what you find?”

“of course,” your fingertips brushed against his when you handed the phone back, and you smiled brightly in response to the soft electricity.

“i’m hyunjin.”

“i’m y/n.”

he inhaled as though he were smelling freshly baked bread, and serenity washed over him, “i’ll see you soon, y/n.”

“i sure hope so, with us being soulmates and all.”

he laughed as he waved goodbye, and you laughed as you watched him walk away. i remember we broke into laughter when we saw each other.

unable to resist the temptation, you stepped out of the flow of pedestrians and typed those words into the search bar. Ada Limón’s “What I Didn’t Know Before” popped up immediately. reading the last four lines over and over again, you felt butterflies swarm your stomach and certainty rush through your heart.

“I remember we broke into laughter / when we saw each other. What was between / us wasn't a fragile thing to be coddled, cooed / over. It came out fully formed, ready to run."

this poem was, without a doubt in your mind, the correct solution to the question you had been asking your whole life. you also knew, without a doubt in your mind, hyunjin was the right person to hold your heart, after it had been calling out to someone from its first beat. you sent hyunjin a link to the poem, holding on tightly to the banana man plushie as you walked toward your next destination.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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sweetlittlegingy · 1 year

Text

I Couldn't Ask For Anything Better

✦ Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Better Man Universe

✦Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Single!Mother

✦Word Count: 9.3k

✦Warnings: Smut (finally), Daddy kink, unprotected sex, Pure fluff, Dad!Jake, Dagger squad fluff, just adorableness, miscarriage mentioned, angsty ending

✦A/n: Holy Crap! this took forever to write, I hope you guys love it!

✦Library (Follow for updates! I no longer have a taglist.)

You had been working on getting Jake’s cake ready, you and Mathew decorated it last night and now you were just getting it in a portable cake container. It was Jake’s 35th birthday and the whole gang was celebrating on the beach in front of the Hard Deck.

Penny had a grill set up on the deck, which the guys planned on doing a bbq on, while Nat, Penny, and Lacey planned on bringing sides. You had been put in charge of the cake, and thought they hadn’t told you; you took it upon yourself to get the drinks. You’d made sure that every possible drink request and type had been met, an array of sodas and alcohol stay in a cooler, already out in the back of Jake’s truck.

Your parents got called away on a conference, and even with your father retired, the Navy still asked him to make appearances. You had all gone to your parent’s house last week for a small birthday dinner, knowing that they would be missed today, your mother and father were insistent on it. They loved Jake and wanted to still have a special day for him. Plus, the kids were more than happy about getting to celebrate and have cake twice. Even though Josephine was only 13 months, she already had a sweet tooth like her father and Mathew loved anything chocolate in general.

You situate the cake in the container, making sure not to mess up the happy birthday candies that Mathew had placed on it. The brightly colored candies, stick out against the white frosting covering the chocolate cake and spell out Happy Birthday Daddy. Per Jake's request, it was a recipe that his momma had given you the last time you visited and with them not being able to make the trip this year, Jake had specifically asked for this cake. You knew that he hated not seeing them, although you had gone and visited last month for Josephine’s first birthday and celebrated Jake’s as well, it wasn’t the same.

Your attention is quickly taken away from the task at hand, by the high-pitched squeal and sound of tiny feet running down the hallway. Making sure that the cake is stable on the counter, you glance back and see Josephine running towards your legs.

Duck towel on her head, and still wet from the bath, she clutches at your leg and her eyes stay focused on the hallway she’d just ran from. Tiny strawberry blonde curls peek out from beneath the towel, as her body shakes in excitement against your leg.

“Josephine Elizabeth Seresin, I wasn’t done drying you.”

Moments later Jake appears, T-shirt soaked and slightly panting. The laugh that falls from your lips doesn't help the situation at all. As your daughter glances up at you and sees you laughing, then looks at her father and laughs even more.

“You alright there, Daddy?” Your tone is teasing and has Jake not only coming for Josephine, but for you as well.

His hands make quick work, at grabbing Josephine and wrapping her in the towel, before grasping onto your waist and pinching at your hips. You jump back slightly against the counter, laughing until you hit the cake and it almost falls. Your laugh ceases immediately as you glare at Jake slightly, then turn to push the cake farther on the counter.

“Don't tickle me around the cake, we worked hard on it.” Your tone is still light and airy, even as you try and put on a hard reprimanding facade for the birthday boy.

Josephine clearly agrees with you, as her little fists pat on Jake’s chest.

“Dada, da da da”

Jake’s gaze casts down at Jos, and his eyes watch her with the most lovesick, heart-wrenching stare, that makes your toes curl. Jake has always been great with Maty, but seeing him with Jos from birth to now, set off a deep need to have at least 10 more babies with the man.

“Yes, baby! You're such a smart girl.”

His finger comes to bop her on the nose as he says it, a gummy smile giggles back at him from the action. You stare at the pair, so happy and in love with the family you've created. The matching green eyes and shade of red hair she got from Jake’s mother, was a telltale sign that she was overwhelmingly an all-around Seresin.

The quietness of the house pauses the sweet moment and has your eyes glancing around in search of Maty. Though you find nothing amiss, and the strange silence can only mean one thing, your 8-year-old was up to something and trying to hide it.

“Honey did you see Maty, when you were taming the monster?”

You bring your hand up and tickle Jos’ belly when you say it. Her little form wiggles in Jake’s arms, as she climbs farther up his torso and wraps her arms tightly around his neck. Jake’s hands find her waist and bring her back down to settle on his hip, completely unfazed by the wiggly toddler.

“Yeah, he's in his room packing a bag, something about him and Amelia playing a trick Mav.”

You eye each other cautiously, waiting for the other to decide whether you're gonna let them have their fun, or if you need to stop the prank. Your head slips side to side, and you bite your bottom lip as you weigh the possible outcomes.

“I mean they're kids, come on, we should just let them have their fun. Right?”

Jake maintains a straight face, not once cracking a smirk while nodding his head along with the plan. Josephine looks between the both of you and starts copying Jake, rigorously nodding her head too.

“Yeah, but if anyone questions us later whether we knew, the answer is no, baby. It's always no.”

The stern facade cracks sightly, Jake no longer being able to hold his laughter and you both end up laughing. Slightly excited about the possible outcome, that an 8-year-old and a 13-year-old were going to pull on the 58-year-old man.

You reach over to grab Josephine from Jake and lean in to give him a quick kiss. Your lips remain resting against his for a minute, though it's long enough for Josephine to start smacking your cheeks. You pull away eyeing the little girl, before over exaggeratingly leaning in, to kiss at her cheeks.

“I shall get the Princess ready in her party dress.” The soft raspberry you blow on her belly, has her laughing incessantly. “While Daddy goes and handles his mini-me.” Your eyebrows raise at Jake, and a teasing smirk rests on your lips.

“I can't help it if he wants to take after his father, who might I add is the best.”

Jake casts a wink your way, with a shake of the head and a laugh, you're walking off down the hallway. Though before you can get far, you feel a harsh smack land on your ass cheek.

“He's got good taste like his Mama.”

You only shake your head, used to his antics, and lean into pepper kisses across Jos’ face.

“Your Daddy is crazy, baby.” your voice raises to a higher octave as you say it, and Josephine pats your cheeks while humming. “Yes, he is. Absolutely crazy!”

…

You glance at the watch on your wrist, before putting in your earrings and take one final glance in the mirror. Josephine sits on the bathroom counter, clapping while watching you and babbling absolute gibberish. You smile at her, then grab her and sit her on your hip. The both of you glance in the mirror, and the high-pitch shrike she does makes you laugh. Adorning your frames were matching yellow sundresses and white cardigans, that Jake had picked out and requested you wore for his birthday. The matching bows you had placed in Josephine’s hair with her space buns, completed the look and you could help but to snap a few pictures of her.

“Come on my darling, let’s see if daddy and bubba are ready.”

Moving through the master bedroom, you can hear Mathew and Jake talking while in the bathroom.

“– it has to be to the left.”

“I know bud, but mom usually does your hair.”

Your eyebrow quirks at the conversation, and a laugh falls from your lips when you see the duo standing in front of the mirror. The hair gel sits open on the counter and Jake has a comb in his mouth while trying to style Mathew’s hair. His difficulty is clearly on display, as he stares at the massive cowlick in Maty’s hair, making it harder to style.

“Everything okay in here?

Jake huffs at you in reply, his back still turned to you as he works on Maty, clearly not finding the situation as funny as you did. You move closer to the pair, Jos settled in one arm while you reach out for the comb. It only takes a second for you to sweep Mathew’s hair to the left, and tame the few pieces of hair.

“I thought you were the best?” Your tone is teasing as you place the comb back into Jake’s open hand, though the pout resting on his lips has you giving him a kiss.

“Don’t worry baby, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Yeah, you better not, I’m the birthday boy.”

You laugh at the statement and pat Jake's chest, calling out to the pair that it was time to go as you leave the bathroom. You grab the cake, though it is quickly taken from you as Jake sends you out to the truck, to get the kids buckled. You situate Jos in her car seat, while Mathew buckles himself across from her.

“All set?”

You glance back at Jake as he rounds the truck, and Mathew gives him a thumbs up while Josephine giggles as your hands dance across her belly. Jake’s hand settles on your lower back, which slowly starts to dip down and grab your butt, as he places the cake underneath Jos’ car seat.

With a spin, you push the door close and are met with a smirking Jake, whose hand has now moved to clutch at the material flowing over your hips. Though one hand raises slowly, tracing up your torso and across the sweetheart neckline.

“Aren’t you the prettiest little present, I can’t wait to unwrap you.”

The finger tracing your neck plucks at your dress teasingly, and your breath hitches as Jake ghosts his lips across your neck. Though he pulls away just before his lips meet your skin, and gives you a sly wink.

“Come on Sweets. The sooner we get there, the soon I get you home and in bed.”

…

Before you can even get Josephine out of her car seat, Mathew is out of the car and running for Bradley. The echo of laughter lets you know that he has in fact reached his uncle and that Bradley is already riling him up.

You unfasten the straps of Jos’ car seat and pull her out onto your chest.

“Where’s my babygirl?”

You laugh as you glance over your shoulder and find Lacey making her way to you. Her hands remain facing out, making grabby gestures at Jos. Who in turn starts laughing and reaches for her Auntie.

“What are you gonna do if yours is a girl?” Your tone is teasing as Lacey grabs Josephine, and rests her on her hip. Her small bump peeks out from under the sundress she wears, and you can’t help but smile at how your best friend is glowing. She was officially 4 months last week and the morning sickness had finally subsided.

“I think it’s a boy, but if it’s a girl, who says I can’t have two babygirls.”

“I’m not sure what I think the munchkin is. Though I do think that Bobby as a girl dad, would be adorable.”

You turn to grab the cake, though before you can even start for the beach Javy is at your side taking it from you. You huff slightly in annoyance and both he and Lacey give to small glares.

“I’m not broken.”

Javy releases a heavy sigh at your comment, before wrapping his free hand around and pulling you into his chest.

“We know that, but the doctor still wants you to take it easy.” You go to interrupt him, though you're quickly shushed. “Don’t even say he didn’t, Jake keeps us updated and we all worry. You don’t know how scared we all were.”

You melt into Javy’s chest as he places a kiss on the top of your head, silent tears roll down your face and Lacey grasps onto to the both of you for a group hug. Planted right in the middle of you three sits Jos, who has now climbed into Javy’s arms.

The hug is broken up when you feel hands wrap around your waist and tug you slightly. Jake's cologne clouds your senses, and you fall back into his arms, as Javy and Lacey head to the group. You turn in Jake's arms and nuzzle into his chest. One hand stays wrapped around your waist, as the other moves to stroke the back of your head. His hand moves slowly, before it’s under your chin and making you look at him. The tears lining your eyes are hard to hide and you feel horrible as you see a silver lining forming on Jake’s water line.

“I wasn’t supposed to cry today, it’s your birthday.”

You try to hide the pain with a small laugh, though it does nothing to cover up the quiver in your lip.

“Sweets, there is no rule that states that you can only mourn at certain times and that you have to hide your emotions at other times.” The hand stroking your cheek brushes the falling tears away, as you nod in answer, and a lone hand brushes against your stomach.

“I just wanted today to be happy, but it feels like a part of us is missing.”

Jake wraps his arms around you tighter as the last word falls from your lips and a choked sob releases from your chest. You can feel the multiple kisses that Jake lays on the crown of your head, and you can’t help but to feel bad. Today was Jake's birthday, it was supposed to be full of celebration. Though seeing Lacey’s sweet little bump and Javy wanting to help was just too much.

It had been two months since you had lost your little angel. The small blip in time from the moment you found out you were pregnant, to losing them at four and half months felt so far away, but also like it was yesterday at the same time. It wasn’t just the pain of losing them that consumed you, but you were terrified of forgetting them. Of your memory faltering and forgetting the small butterfly flutter in your stomach, and how their heartbeat sounded.

The past eight weeks had been hell on you and Jake. You had tried to be there for him whenever he broke down, but it always seemed to trigger your own tears and left him to comfort you. The doctor had put you on an anti-depressant right after the miscarriage, given that you had a history of depression. They helped slightly, but it wasn’t only a chemical imbalance, the loss had taken a piece of your heart.

“It’s going to be okay, Sweets. I promise.”

The statement comforts you and a small smile graces your lips. Jake had never broken a promise to you, in the beginning of your friendship it had been silly promises, but as time went on bigger promises were made. To you, to the kids, and not one of them had ever been broken. Jacob Grant Seresin was nothing if not a man of his word.

With a deep breath you nod, his words on repeat in your head, and when you smile at Jake, it’s not fake or forced. No, this smile was one of love and thankfulness that you had found such an amazing man to father your children and to spend eternity with. Your left-hand rises to rest on Jake’s cheek, the light sparkles off of your wedding ring, as you pull his lips down to meet yours. It’s simple and sweet, but oh so meaningful, and when you pull away your foreheads rest together.

“I love you. Thank you for always healing my heart.”

A delicate kiss is placed once more on your lips, just a peck, before he pulls away. Both of his hands rest on your cheeks, lifting your face to meet his eyes. They stare into your soul, sharing every little piece of pain, depression, love, and joy that has made up your world together. Your hands rise to grasp onto his, a silent gesture that it would always be you and him against to world.

“I love you; I will always love you. Don’t ever forget that baby.”

Jake’s hand slips from your face and creases your arms before linking your fingers together.

“Now come on, I’ve been thinking about that cake since yesterday.”

Your laugh is light and causes Jake to smile as well. His hands tug gently on yours as he turns and pulls you down to the beach.

You wait for the stares of pity from your friends, though find none. Not one of them mentions your tear-stained cheeks, and you're thankful when Penny makes her way over to you and sweeps you away.

“Go man the grill, I don’t trust Bradley to not burn everything.” The demand is thrown over her shoulder at Jake, who only winks at you and lets out a ‘yes ma’am.”

“The cake looks great, and Phoenix has continually been on cake watch. Considering each of the boys has tried to swipe frosting from it.”

You laugh at Penny’s words, though you full-on belly laugh when you see Nat standing, practically on top, of the cake with her arms crossed. Her eyes are set in a glare towards Bradley, though moves to you, and a smile instantly forms.

“I hear you’ve got a pretty tough job.”

She slips at her drink while shrugging her shoulders to you. It’s rare to see Nat in dresses, though the sun dress she wears now fits her perfectly.

“It gave me a reason to smack Roo, so it was a win for me.”

“I’m kind of sad that I missed it.”

You feel a body brush passed you, as little hands reach out to you. Josephine grabs onto you easily and nuzzles into your chest. Your hand moves up and down her back, and the motion brings comfort to the both of you.

“Oh, don’t worry, they’ve been plotting.”

Lacey nods behind you and when you turn, you’re met with the group of seven pilots looking toward the sky, trying to hide the fact that you had just caught them staring. A laugh falls from your chest, though it ceases quickly when a whine comes from a now-sleeping Jos. Your hand gently rubs at the back of her head, while you mutter sweet nothing into her ear. The growing toddler falls back to sleep easily as you sway with her.

“Wanna make a bet?”

Nat and Lacey, both give you questioning looks, though Penny only laughs at your antics. You had always been up for a challenge or bet, especially when you were positive that you would win. You glance back to the pilots one last time, thinking for a moment.

“Give it 20 minutes and it’s gonna be Javy.”

“Why are you so sure?”

The pair of them watch you, trying to figure out what exactly you’re picking up on that they aren’t.

“Bradley already knows you’re on full alert, Bobby is too scared of pregnant Lace,” the comment earns you a small ‘hey’ in protest, though she ends up laughing. “And Jake, well he knows better. Mav, Mick, and Rueben are all bystanders, which leaves Javy.”

All three of you turn to face the boys fully, giving them a smile and wave, with the hand not holding Jos. It’s a small taunt and their reactions only prove that you know how to get under their skin.

“Javy is unofficially my third child, and I know him like the back of my hand, but he also knows me. Meaning that he might tell the boys he’s going to do something, but if he knows somethings going to upset me, he won’t to do.”

The girl's hum as they listen to you, all three sets of eyes never leaving the boys. You wave one last time, then turn back towards Pen, she has Josephine’s baby beach tent set up and ready to go. The soft snores that emit from Jos' signal that she is passed out and that she wouldn’t stir when you laid her down.

Lacey and Nat continue chatting, while you settle on the beach towel with Penny. She wraps an arm around you and lays a kiss on your temple, then clasps your hand in hers and gives you a gentle squeeze. Your sister had always been someone that you leaned on when you were younger, and over the years you had slowly stopped telling her all the traumatic details in fear, that she would see you as a burden.

Though in the last two months, besides Jake, Penny had been your rock and had experienced a good number of your breakdowns. Your parents had been wonderful, helping with Maty and Jos, and being there for both you and Jake. But it wasn’t the same, you had always been the golden girl in their eyes, even when you got pregnant with Mathew and had to leave flight school. Your father had been sad, but never held it against you, and the thought of them seeing you like this. They wouldn’t ever look at you the same if they knew how damaged you were.

“Your one-year anniversary is coming up soon,” She nudges your shoulder as she says it, and a small smile forms on your lips. “I meant it when I said I would watch the kids. I think it would be good for the both of you to get away for the weekend.”

“I know, thank you, you really are the best big sister. We both need a weekend of just us, it's just been hard.”

Penny nods in understanding though doesn’t say anything. She knew that if you talked about it the both of you would cry and she wanted nothing more than for you to have a great day.

“Though speaking of anniversaries, Maty’s adoption one is coming up. Right?”

At the mention of Jake finally adopting Mathew, a full smile breaks out across your face. “Yeah, the first week in July. Which is so weird, because Jake has been his dad since he was two, but he is finally getting to change his name. It felt like all the pieces finally fit together.” You laugh slightly, thinking about Mathew’s request in the whole ordeal. “Jake always knew that Mathew loved him, I mean look at them.” You gesture over to the guys again, though this time a game of dogfight football had broken out. Jake had Mathew thrown over his shoulder and was booking it across the sand to the endzone, while Maty clutched onto the football in his arms. “I think that Mathew asking to have Grant as his middle name, really solidified it for Jake. We named Josephine after mom and Jake’s mother, so to have Mathew asked to be named after Jake, was a full circle moment.”

Your head leans over to rest against Penny, the pair of you content in watching your family. It’s not long before Nat and Lacey find a home on the towel next to you.

“I don’t want to ruin the day,” you glance back towards Penny, who looks apprehensive about whatever she wants to say “But, have you even heard from Adam, you know after you sent the papers off.”

A harsh sigh leaves your mouth, not at Pen but at the mention of your ex. You hated talking about him, but you knew that Penny was just asking out of worry. She had seen you have breakdowns at the thought of Adam, and she never wanted you to feel alone again. Another sigh falls from your lips, and you lay down on the towel. You relax against the sand and tug on both Penny’s and Lacey’s hands, who in turn tugs on Nat’s, and the four of you lie on the sand. Silently waiting for the metaphorical ball to drop.

“I wouldn’t have sent him the papers if the lawyer hadn’t strongly suggested it. Adam didn’t want to be on Mathew’s birth certificate, and his status with Mathew was deemed as abandonment.” Another sigh leaves your lips, both of your hands getting gently squeezed in support. “I guess it’s good that we have all of our bases covered, but I feel like I’m just waiting for him to show up. Like now that I’ve made this big step, he’s going to come back just to tear me down.”

“He’ll be getting his ass kicked if he shows up,” Nat had risen up on her elbows and was now staring at you. “And that’s just me. If the boys get ahold of him, he’s going to be lucky if he doesn’t leave in a body bag.”

Her eyes hold yours; it was her way of promising that you would be protected. That they would never let him put his hands on you again, and if he tried, he would instantly regret it.

“That’s the only fact, that lets me sleep soundly at night.”

…

The loud gasp, followed by the two high pitch squeals has your head turning from setting up the picnic table. You miss the prank, but you watch as the aftermath unfolds. A soaking-wet Maverick has taken off running after Amelia and Mathew, who both have taken off down the beach. You laugh as Mav comes to a slow jog and then walks, the two kids still running off in the distance. Next to you, Penny is in a fit of laughter, and the glare Mav gives her only makes it worse. His walk lands him in front of the two of you, pointing a figure at the both of you before reaching for a water.

“Both of them are trouble, just like their mothers.”

You stop laughing, really trying to feel bad for the man, though you’re laughing is set off again as Lacey reappears after using the restroom.

“What happened to you?” The question is so innocent, but it’s the icing on the cake. Mav only shakes his head at Lacey, and mutters quietly about the “hooligans.”

“What’d I say?”

“Don’t worry,” Your laughing slows as you motion Lacey over to you, “the kids decided to prank him.”

An ahh sound of understanding with a nod of the head is only there momentary, as she starts laughing with you. The both of you work hand in hand to set up the tableware, placing the finishing touches as Jake comes over to you.

His sneaky hands wrap around your waist, and he places soft kisses along your neck. You lean back at the motion, resting your head on his shoulder, as he gently sways your bodies side to side.

“How is my birthday boy?”

The question only gets a hum in answer, as a string of kisses up your neck and onto your pulse point makes you giggle slightly. Your eyes had fallen shut, enjoying to small moment with your husband.

“How’s Jos doing?” The question is whispered against your ear, and it has your eyes opening to glance at the beach tent.

“She perfect, like always. Napping soundly, though we are going to have to wake her up soon to eat.”

“Yeah, I saw that Penny brought some of that jello she ate at your parent's. She seems to do really good with it.”

This time it’s you that hums in acknowledgment, your eyes scanning the surrounding beach noticing the lack of your friends. You glance to the cake quickly, though find that it’s still there in perfect condition.

You turn in Jake's arms, and your eyes squint in questioning of the man, who remains calm and collected. You glance around the beach further and find Nat with Bradley at the grill, Pen and Mav up on the deck, while you see Lacey and Bobby down by the water with the kids. Your eyes fall back on Jake and the small smirk that he gives you is all you need to know that their plan was underway.

“Baby, where’s Javy?” The slight lift of your eyebrow does nothing to unsettle your husband. A small shrug is all you get, followed by a wink and a gentle squeeze on your hips.

“Jacob, I know you’re up to something and I’d suggest you think about this plan and the repercussions it may have.”

His hands only tighten on your hips even more, as his head drops back into a full laugh. “and what might those repercussions be my sweet girl.”

He’s teasing you, poking at that little button, because he knows you won’t really get mad at him on his birthday. Jake pulls you in slightly so that you're pressed near chest to chest and one of your hands rises to tap lightly on his chest. While your other hand comes to trace lightly along the sweetheart's neckline and causes Jake's eyes to drop immediately to your breasts.

“If anything happens to that cake before I get pictures of you blowing out the candles,” The hand resting on his chest slowly rises and tips Jake’s head back so that he is looking at you directly in the eyes. “There will be no unwrapping of your special present.”

Jake’s lips set in a hard line at your declaration and a small pout, forms on his lips. “Swee–”

“Nope, me and Maty worked hard on that cake, and by God, I will watch you blow out 35 candles. Don’t test me, Jacob.”

The harsh tone in your voice has a small sheepish look settling on his face, as his eyes move from the cake resting on the table and back to your breasts multiple times. With a heavy sigh, Jake’s hands fall farther to grab your ass, and his face comes to rest along the top of your breasts. His face nuzzles in and his teeth nip at your chest, as you bring your hands to the back of Jake’s head to stroke his hair and laugh at his antics.

“I’m supposed to signal when I get you away,” The sentence is mumbled but you still understand.

“What were you planning to do with the cake Jacob.”

The sound of his full name has him pulling away from your chest and staring up into your eyes. His hands tighten on your ass and you normally would chastise him for groping you so freely out in public, though there aren’t any people close enough that you’re worried.

“Sweets, I don’t know. The boys just wanted the cake, and well –”

“You were peer pressured”

Jake scoffs at the words, and his hold has tightened even more. A small squeal leaves your lips, as you jump slightly in his hold and glare at the now-smirking man.

“Baby, I don’t get pressured into things.”

The small smirk you give Jake as he struggles for the correct words doesn’t go unnoticed. The small glare he gives you is adorable something you had expected. What you hadn’t expected was Jake to grab your waist and throw you over his shoulder, like he had been with Maty earlier today.

A shrill scream lips your lips, as your world spins upside down and the only thing you see is Jake’s tan back. Your hands grasp onto his sides, to stable yourself, and stop the sway of your body with every step he takes.

“Jacob Grant Seresin, you put me down right now.”

This laugh rings through the air and the shaking of his chest slightly shakes your body with it.

“No can do, darlin’.”

If only he could see the glare, you were giving him right now, he might change his mind. Though as a harsh smack lands on your ass and causes you to jump, you also think that the glare might have only egged him on even more.

“Your panties seem to be on just a little tight,” His hand ghosts just under the hem of your dress, grabbing at your inner thigh and lightly traces your heat. “don’t worry Sweets, daddy’s gonna fix that problem real quick.”

The sublet heat ignites in your core, and you shift slightly in Jake's hold, causing the hand on your thigh to brush up against your clothed cunt again. The moan that releases from your chest should embarrass you, though the laugh that Jake releases only has your panties damping further. You watch as the sand turns into the wooden deck of the bar, and you caught sight of a laughing Bradley and Natasha.

“Nix, you’re on baby duty. Jos is still sleeping, but me and the Mrs. have some business to attend to.” You hear the door open, the harsh light of the day disappearing, and shifts into the dim light seeping through the window blinds.

“Also, don’t touch that cake, Rooster. No one touches that damn cake while I’m gone.”

You just barely catch the yup from Bradley and the loud laugh that Nat releases, though you can’t help but to smile at Jake’s words. Your hands pinch at his side, grabbing Jake’s attention, before telling him thank you.

Just as quickly as you were thrown over his shoulder, Jake has you back on stable ground. His hands settle on your waist and push you back slightly. Your back bumps back against a wall, and as your chest heaves, you glance around to see where exactly you are.

You’re both tucked in one of the back corners of the Hard Deck, hidden away and out of sight right next to a spare pool table. The heaving of your chest slows, as you look back up at Jake and find his emerald, green eyes, replaced by a dark green with blown pupils that watch every move you make.

“You’re welcome darlin’, you should know that I’d never let anyone mess up something you worked so hard on, especially if it’s for me.” A cheeky wink and smirk grace Jake’s face, and they make you smile, as you nuzzle into his palm that had come to rest against your cheek.

“But since I am the birthday boy,” A finger traces along your cleavage, and brushes gently against the shell of your neck, causing you to tip your head back. “I want to open one of my presents early.”

“Jake –”

Your protest is cut off completely when Jake dips his head down and bites at your neck, smoothing over the nip with a lick of the tongue. A high-pitched whine releases from your lips as Jake slots his leg in between your thighs and brushes up against your pantie-clad heat. The hand tracing your chest moves up your frame and settles under your cardigan. Pushing it slightly off your shoulder, before his lips go back to work on you.

It’s too hot, and with every little movement that Jake makes he presses up again you, catching your clit against the lace of your panties. Your brain is no longer processing, as you pull off the light cardigan and throw it behind Jake. Your hands find purchase on Jake’s shoulders, grabbing on the tan skin as you keen with every nip he places on your neck.

Your chest is heaving as you tug on the back of Jake’s hair and slot your lips against his. It’s hot and needy, tugging and pulling more so than soft and loving. Jake only slightly licks at your lips and has you groaning in need. The moment of needy has Jake’s tongue slipping through your lips, as a soft battle ensues between the two of you.

You pull away gasping for a breath as Jake continues down your jawline, his hand working the skirt of your dress up and over your hips. Giving you the freedom to grind down on his thigh. The motion has you pulling back with a whimper, clit overly sensitive and pulsing.

“No, no Sweets. Take what you need.”

Jake’s hands fall to your waist, pressing you down against his thigh as another whine slips from your lips. You can’t avoid the pressure though, as Jake moves your hips to his own accord. Pushing and pulling you, forcing you to ride his thigh as you hide away in his neck, nipping on his collarbone.

“Daddy–” your sentence is cut off when Jake sends a particularly hard thrust up, to jut against your weeping cunt.

“There’s my girl, such a pretty baby.”

You can only nod in answer, as one of Jake's hands slips up to cradle your face, and the thumb resting on your cheek slips between your lips. You nip and suck at his thumb, doe eyes focused up on Jake ready to be his good girl in any way that he asks. The look in your eyes sends him spiraling, before you know it his thumb has slipped from your mouth and he’s lifting you in the air.

Your heads dazed and foggy, consumed completely by the man holding you as he lays you on top of the pool table. You go to protest; you were at the Hard Deck and supposed to be celebrating Jake’s birthday of god’s sake. Though the words escape you when Jake’s fingers trace along your slit and rips the cloth from your aching heat.

The gentle trace of his fingers is everything and nothing all at once. Your back arches off the table and your head falls back as a low moan echoes from your chest, as Jake rolls your swollen clit between his fingers.

His laugh pulls you from the momentary bliss, as Jake looks down upon you strung out before him. Small babbles fall from your lips as you beg Jake for anything more, how you had gone from thinking with a clear mind to one that was completely hazy and your only focus was having Jake screw your brains out.

“Tell me what you want darlin’, use your words.”

He’s mocking you, with every shift of your hips trying to push down on the hand that is no longer tracing at your slit but resting heavily against your clit.

“Need you, Jakey.”

“Darlin’” His thumb moves in tight circles as he draws the word out, only pausing when you cry out. “You. Know. That’s. Not. My. Name.” Each word ends in a tap against your clit, that has your hands grasping out on the table looking for anything to hold on to.

“Daa– Daddy, Pleassseee.”

The name is just passed your lips and without any warning, Jake’s fingers fuck into you. Just barely easing in, before plunging knuckle deep and hitting the soft spongy spot that makes you keen.

“You gonna let me fuck you, Sweetheart? With all of our friends just outside.”

You can only nod in response, too focused on the way Jake’s fingers scissor in your heat. A chuckle leaves Jake’s lips again, though this time before you can react, Jake's free hand comes to wrap around the back of your neck and pulls you up to meet his chest. A low moan falls from your lips as Jake’s fingers reach even deeper in the new position and the palm of his hand brushes back and forth over your clit.

“Please” The plea falls from your lips in a mantra, and your hands wrap up around Jake’s neck to pull his lips down to your own. You melt into his touch, as his tongue slides into your mouth, coaxing your mouth in a dance of need and want.

He tastes like whiskey and malt, the crown and coke you made earlier is still potentate on his lips and you wonder if it’s your husband you’re getting drunk on, or the crown coating his tongue. Jake’s free hand cradles the back of your neck, woven into your hair and guiding you exactly how he wants. Your hips rock on their own accord, chasing a high that Jake is content to tease you with.

You lick into his mouth and your breath hitches in despair, as Jake pulls his hand from your weeping cunt. You watch, breathless as Jake brings his slick cover fingers to his mouth, moaning at the taste of your arousal and never breaking eye contact.

Jake had always been cheeky in the bedroom, how could he not, when he knew that just the sight of him shirtless had you panting like a bitch in heat. Though the wink that he gives you now, begging for him to touch you.

To fuck you, in any way that he wants. You would take anything from the man, so long as he touched you. Jake’s eyes fall from your blown ones and fall to your heaving chest. His hand trails down from your neck, to grip onto the top of your dress and yanks it down. The stitching of the fabric sounds like it has torn slightly, and it leaves the material to fall below your breast.

“Jake we still hav–”

Your words are stopped, as Jake’s hand grasps your cheeks and forces you to look up at him.

“Baby, shut up for me.”

The hand that’s not grasping your face works at your bra, pulling the cups down to expose your nipples. You squirm on the green of the pool table, as Jake ducks his head down and licks at one of your nipples, before biting it. His free hand works at your other nipple, and he plays your body like his own personal instrument. Coaxing every whine, moan, and hiss from you of his own accord.

The wanton moan you release as Jake tugs on the pebbled bead has his lips unlatching from your breast.

“Those are the only sounds I want to hear from you, darlin’.” Your eyes are clouded over, hanging on to every word that Jake tells you. “Though I’m not gonna stop you from begging, you always look so pretty when you get whiny and beg for me.”

The sound of the screen door slamming against the side of the wall has both of your eyes snapping in the direction of the bar. You're hidden back enough that you can’t see who comes in, though you hear Bradley’s voice ring out. He’s yelling at someone to get the extra ice from the back, it only takes a moment before the screen door is slamming again and the tension in your shoulders releases.

You were sure that the whole group knew you were fucking, and trusted that they would take care of the kids just fine. If they needed you, they would have already been yelling at you. Though the image of Bradley, Nat, Bob, and Lacey walking in on you and Jake fucking isn’t something you want to do again. It had been just after Jake had gotten home from a deployment when Penny and Maverick at offered to watch Maty for you. You hadn’t gotten pregnant with Jos yet, though you’re suspicious that she was conceived over the long weekend.

Your thoughts are quickly brought back to Jake, as you hear the zipper of his pants being pulled down. The sight of Jake's length has you drooling, the red tip leaks precum and you can help the whine that falls from you. A deep need to feel the weight of him on your tongue, to lick the salty tang off of him and relish in the way he fills your mouth. Your gaze is lethal, never wavering from Jake’s length not even when Jake chuckles. Though the tip of your chin up forces your eyes to leave it and look at into Jake lust filled, emerald eyes.

“Sweets, as much as I would love to have you on your knees, we don’t have the time.”

“Later?” Your hand grazes his cock, and you grasp the length. Your cloudy eyes drop from Jake’s, as you lean forward and spit onto the head. You use the precum and you spit as you stroke him, your grip tightening just slightly as you work around his girth.

“Whatever want baby.” His breath sounds ragged, fucked out by his own need for you. Your hand slips for his cock, as Jake grabs your thighs and yanks you to the edge of the pool table. Wrapping your legs around his waist, as your back falls to meet the green felt.

Your eyes catch sight of the swinging light fixture above you, and you watch it as it moves side to side. The harsh smack of Jake's cock against your clit makes you keen and has your back bowing in need. The arch pushes your cunt down towards Jake's cock, though he teases you, slipping the head along your slit and pushing into you before pulling back out.

“Daddy please need your cock, need you to fuck me.”

“I know baby, daddy’s got you.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, as Jake pushes his length into your aching cunt. Small whines and whimper roll off your lips as Jake bottom out, his hips coming flush with your ass. Your heat aches in need, and your hips rock to gain any type of friction.

“Nope baby,” Jake's hands grasp at your hips and stills your hips. “Feel me, Sweets. How well this pretty little pussy takes me, how you clench around me like a fucking vice.”

Jake’s breath turns ragged, as you clench down on him and the hands resting at your hips grasp at you, knuckles turning white and surly leaving fingerprints. The quick pull back from you makes you gasp, followed by a harsh thrust that you swear is in your stomach.

Jake's thrusts are harsh and uncontrolled, the both of you chasing a high, and as you lower one hand to work over your clit, needing the added pressure. Your hand is smacked away before it even touches the bundle of nerves, a protest ready to fall from your lips. Though in its place falls a deep moan, as Jake's thumb comes to rest on you, tight circles with the perfect pressure coaxing you to ecstasy.

“Baby… Daddyyyy”

His hips never falter as your hands grasp at the pool table, finding nothing to ground you. Your head tips back, your body moving against the green, with each of Jake's thrusts. He’s unrelenting as he works you over, a silent demand and need for you to find yours before he ever does.

“I know baby, let go. Come for daddy, like the good girl you are.”

His words send you spiraling and if you cared you might have stopped the moan that bursts from you. You should care as it echoes through the Hard Deck, surely alerting everyone of your pending climax. Though you don’t. The only thing you care about now was the burning heat in your core and the way Jake’s hands feel over your body.

Your eyes open and find Jake’s as a soft hand creases your cheek, the need, and lust ever present, but also a deep love that shines through as your husband watches you. With one final flick across your clit, your tumbling, begging and whining as you finally reach the peak before crashing into the abyss. Jake's hips only stutter slightly, as he works your through, his own release within reach.

“Where do you want it, Sweets?”

“In me Jake, please need to feel you.” The small plea as you clench around him has Jake peaking. His hips slow and he coats your walls, a deep moan falling from the both of you at the feeling of Jake’s cock pulsing within you. Pushing and pulling his cum back into you, fucking it into you, before he pulls out.

Jake's chest heaves as he looks down and your pulsing cunt, clenching around nothing and pushing his cum from your heat. Without a thought, Jake’s fingers scope at the mix of you both and pushes it back into your aching cunt. You’re sensitive and with every drag of his fingers you whine, you lift up onto your elbows so you both can watch as he fucks his cum back into you.

You bite your bottom lip, from not only how sensitive you now are, but also from how much you need Jake again. You could never tire of the man, though when he gets like this, it makes you practically insatiable.

Though with one last push of the hand, Jake is pulling back from you and wrapping his lips around his cum cover fingers, winking at you before placing a peek against your lips. His hands find a home at your waist, as he pulls you from the pool table. He holds you steady as your legs shake, and places a gentle kiss against your temple.

“Still as sweet as ever, darlin’.”

The words are whispered into your ear and have you blushing. You push up on your toes to kiss Jake, hoping to avoid his gaze. Though the movement causes his cum to drip from your unclothed cunt, and the small squeak your release has Jake smiling in victory.

“You ripped my panties and my dress, Jacob. Everyone is gonna know.”

A harsh laugh falls from his lips before Jake grabs your cardigan and situates it back on your shoulders.

“Darlin’, people back home in Texas know. You’re not the quietest, especially when you climax.”

His words earn him a smack on the shoulder, as you move past him to go to the bathroom and right yourself before seeing everyone again. You glance back at the man, his eyes never leave your backside and the wide smile creasing his face is more than enough for you to not care if the whole world heard the two of you.

“Happy birthday, baby.”

“You best believe, I’m unwrapping the rest of my present when we get home. I still need to get my mouth on that sweet little cunt.”

You hum in response and smirk crossing your own lips as you shake your head that Jake’s words, before continuing to the bathroom.

“Hey Sweets,” the call has you pausing once again, spinning to face Jake and finding nothing but love in his eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too, honey.”

…

The pair of you reemerge from the Hard Deck as if nothing happened, though both Nat and Lace give you teasing smiles as you make your way over. A small smirk makes its way to your lips, causing both girls to laugh and a deep blush to cover your cheeks.

Jake had gone over to check on Amelia and Maty when you came out, both Penny and Mav stationed close enough to watch the pair, but also giving them the space to goof off. You glance over to Josephine’s beach tent and find her just waking up. The movement of her little arms has you making your way to her, and as you cloud over her line of sight has a gummy smile marring her features.

“Hello, my beautiful girl.” You pick her up easily and cradle her against your chest, enjoying the way her little hands grab at you. “Did you have a wonderful nap?”

Mumbles fall from her lips and bubbles of spit dribble down her chin, as she answers you.

“Ma ma ma ma.”

You bounce her on your hip lightly as you walk back over to Lace and Nat. Everyone had gathered as Bradley showed up with the food and placed it in the middle of the table. Maty finds you easily and clasps onto your hip to give you a hug. Your free hand brushes the hair from his face before you move down to kiss the crown of his head.

“Momma I couldn’t find dad’s candles. Auntie Nix helped me look, but they weren’t in the bag.”

Your brows crease in thought, trying to remember where you placed them. You were sure that you put them in the bag, though they could have fallen out in the truck.

“Don’t you worry, my love. I’m sure they are just in the truck.” The three of you make your way back over to Jake, who is now chatting with Javy about the plane they were restoring. Catching sight of her father, Jos starts trying to reach out for him. The high-pitch squeal of your daughter gains Jake’s attention immediately and he’s grasping for her to toss her in the air. You smile at the duo, and overwhelming pride and love fills your chest for your small family.

Javy is quick to grab Maty, flipping him upside down and tickling him. Jake looks at you as you settle at his side and places a kiss on your cheek.

“I’m going to run to the pickup, love. I think your candles feel under the seat.”

“I can go look, Sweets.”

“Nope, you’re the birthday boy and I’ll be quick.”

Jake hums in agreement, before placing a sweet kiss on your lips. You pull away, only to be met with another kiss on the nose.

“I’ll be right back, then we can start eating.”

…

Jake watches as you make your way to the parking lot, quietly wondering how he had gotten so lucky. Josephine grabbles in his lap, patting at his chest as Javy talks to her in a high-pitched over.

Jake laughs at the pair, Javy and Jos were the best of buddies, the two were on the same wavelength. The number of times that Jake had come back, after asking Javy to watch her for a bit, and they were both asleep was astounding.

Though he couldn’t be more thankful for the extended family, that his own little family had in the Dagger Squad. Jacob Seresin might have been a hard ass, but seeing how much any one of his teammates cared for his children, turned him into a puddle.

“Dad, momma’s still not back.”

Mathew had been patiently waiting, though as time passed, he couldn’t help but grow impatient.

“I’ll go check on her bubba.”

Though before he can hand Jos to Javy, Mathew is protesting. Telling both Jake and Javy that he was a big boy and could help. Jake chuckled at his son, hand ranking through his unruly hair before nodding in answer.

“Go on then.”

A smile broke out across Mathew’s face before he was taking off up the sand to the parking lot.

“Watch for cars.” Jake's voice echoed across the beach, gaining everyone’s attention as Mathew signaled back with a thumbs up, then disappeared.

Jake and Javy both went back to talking with Jos, as Jake bounced her lightly on his hip. The setting California sun casts a warm hue over the beach, and Jake couldn’t help but think of you and how much you loved the beach.

Especially at sunset.

Jake had grown to love it just as much as you had, the comfort from the waves and sea breeze had become a constant in your lives. The four of you were constantly at the beach whenever the family had downtime.

Though that constant sense of safety and calm was ripped right from his chest as a bone-chilling scream echoed out across the beach.

“Daddy!”

Jake was passing Josephine off to Javy without a second thought, and sprinting towards the edge of the beach. Nearly collapsing at the sight of Mathew's tear-stained face, barreling toward him.

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