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murdockparker · 8 months ago

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Mr. Bridgerton and the Baker

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: Covered in flour. It is how she usually spent her days, working hard at her family's bakery. She just hadn't expected to have met him in such a state.

Word Count: 11.8k

Warnings: pining, angst, fluff, a small assault (reader gets hit, not by Benedict!), mention of pregnancy (like, literally a line or two),

A/N: Did I write an entire fic barely based on that one scene in Camp Rock where Mitchie is covered in flour? Yes. Do I regret it? No.

With the melting of snow and the promise of new starts, the social season was nearly upon the ton, nearly upon all the potential suitors and debutantes—all waiting with bated breath to secure a match this year. Of course, those in waiting were of high status, usually tied to the aristocracy or drowning in wealth beyond compare.

The others? The ones not blessed with endless funds or pure luck of royal lineage had the privilege, nay, honor to serve those who would be so fortunate. For the many, it included servicing the estates—butlers, lady’s maids, governesses, home chefs and the like. For the patrons on Tilbury Street, it included the less sought after roles, polishers, cobblers, modistes and bakeries. One bakery in particular was the prime choice for the aristocracy, a diamond in the rough as some may say.

—

“I just simply don’t understand why we cannot have our chefs prepare the pastries for the ball,” Eloise Bridgerton nearly groaned, her arm hooked onto her mother’s. They had been walking up and down Tilbury Street for the better part of twenty minutes, simply enjoying the fresh spring weather. “I’ve never known them to make horrid dishes.”

“It’s the first Bridgerton Ball of the season, Eloise,” the dowager viscountess murmured politely. “Along with it being the first Kate has had the pleasure of hosting, putting an order in here is a fresh foot forward, one that’ll impress our guests.”

Eloise barked back a laugh. “If it is so important, why is Kate not here to make the order herself?”

“That, dear sister, is an excellent point.” Following close behind the two Bridgerton ladies was a rather tall shadow, equally as dashing and nearly as clever—Benedict—the second eldest son of the Bridgerton brood. “Surely Anthony could spare his wife for one afternoon, I can’t imagine it being so difficult to pry them from their bedroom—”

“Benedict Bridgerton!” Violet snapped, turning hot on her heels to face her son. He could only laugh.

“Oh Mother, you must relax,” he said lovingly, patting both hands on her shoulders. “You know better than I that it could have been a far fouler thought—why, I can easily imagine three other ways I could have expressed my way of thinking.”

“Ah, ever the poet, Benedict,” Eloise smiled wryly, pushing her way to the front of their clump. No one had the heart to mention the glaring fact that it was likely she didn’t know the way in which they were headed.

“This bakery,” Violet continued half-heartedly. “Is a prestigious supplier for the ton—you may recall their exquisite cake that we had ordered for Daphne’s wedding.”

Benedict hummed contently. “It was a good cake,” he practically nodded off at the thought. The decadent sponge nearly brought him to tears—of course, it could have very well been the relief from undue stress of Daphne’s season altogether, having nearly lost his older brother to an unnecessary duel.

“I think it was far too sweet,” Eloise said, scrunching her nose in distaste. “I had to drink nearly three cups of tea to clear out the sugar on my tongue.”

“Ah, but what’s life without a little bit of sweetness?” Benedict nearly sang.

“Perfectly fulfilling,” his younger sister quipped back.

The dowager viscountess could only sigh, her eyes reaching up to the clouds above. While she loved nothing more than being the mother of all eight of her perfect children, their endless bickering and bantering grew vexing. It merely took the Bridgerton siblings another minute of arguing before stopping in front of a quaint storefront—the sickeningly sweet aroma filling the street. “We’re here.”

“I could have told you as much,” Benedict mumbled, rubbing his temple lightly. “The scent is… overpowering.” If he were lucky, the headache that was quickly forming would dull fast.

“But Benedict,” Eloise turned hot on her heels. “What’s life without a bit of sweetness?”

Violet Bridgerton was quick to catch her second eldest's hand before it met the back of Eloise’s head. “If it’s too much for you, dear,” she released her grip. “Please feel free to wait for us out here. It should only take a moment.”

“Like a ‘moment’ at the modiste?” Benedict crossed his arms, his brow nearly touching his hairline. “If I recall, the last time I accompanied you to the dressmaker, I spent over an hour basking in the summer sun.”

“Nothing logical stopped you from coming in,” Eloise drawled. “Of course, if you wanted to managed to stay pleasant with the seamstress, one should have kept it in his trousers—”

“We’ll only be a moment,” Violet hushed Eloise quickly, grasping the top of her arm firmly. “There seems to be little wait. We’ll be on our way shortly.”

He huffed towards the sun—while there had been little heat near the start of the English spring, the sun was warm against his skin. Benedict enjoyed being outdoors more often than not, it was usually the reason he accompanied his mother on their errands nearly every other day of the season. That, of course, and the fact it got his worrying mama off of his back to be wed. With Anthony finally securing a match, it was only fitting for Violet Bridgerton to be working her way down her list of endless children—having only two of eight married off. “It should only be a moment,” Benedict reassured himself, watching various other families and couples walk by.

That is, until he heard a rather loud bang coming from the alley beside him. He should have known better—he was taught better—than to investigate outlandish sounds, especially in town, but Benedict Bridgerton was nothing if not curious. He peeked around the corner, holding his breath, preparing to be met with a wild animal of some kind. His view was shaky at best, hardly could see a thing around the bricks. If he wanted a better look, he’d have to take a few steps towards the unusual noise.

A large white cloud had enveloped the small alley, it was difficult to even see a few meters ahead, let alone what could have caused the loud commotion. Benedict waved his hand through the mysterious fog, trying to clear some air. “Hello?” He heard a soft squeak. An animal, it had to have been, Benedict was sure of it now. “Is anyone there?”

A cough rang through the alley, startling him more than rogue vermin could have. The cloud had begun to dissipate, the white settling on the stone street below. Flour, if he had to guess, given the location.

“I’m alright,” a voice murmured quietly, another soft cough following quickly after. The shape of a person came into view, the air finally clearing enough for him to make sense of the scene he came upon. It was one of a woman now covered head to toe in the white powder—she had no distinguishable features, the flour was caking every bit of her body and dress. Just striking eyes that made Benedict’s heart jump to his throat. “Just… made a mess.”

“So it seems,” Benedict hummed, stepping over a pile of powder to get closer. “Do you require any help?”

“No, no,” she laughed. “I wouldn’t want you to get dirty. I fear I’ve got quite enough of that for the both of us.”

“I don’t mind getting dirty,” Benedict said quickly, his tongue moving faster than his brain. “But… yes, I suppose it’d be for the best if I refrained from getting any flour on me. May I ask how…?”

“Clumsy,” she uttered simply, the shrug of her shoulders speaking nothing but truth. “I must have the slipperiest fingers in town—I wish I could say this was the first time…”

“Manage to cover yourself in flour often?” Benedict’s lips pulled into a jesting smirk.

“Nearly every other day,” the woman sighed. “We’ve grown accustomed to purchasing an extra sack or two just for situations like these."

“I hardly doubt you could be that clumsy,” Benedict laughed, leaning against the stone wall. “But, I am painting quite the image in my head.”

“Oh I do hope I’m decent in that image, Mr. Bridgerton,” she giggled, curtsying in a near-mocking manner.

“How do you know—”

“Everyone knows your family, Mr. Bridgerton, I’d be a fool to admit I don’t know who you are—though you and your brothers all blur together, so I am merely taking a shot in the dark in which of the four you are.”

“Oh?”

She nodded once, a flurry of powder falling from her hair. A muffled shout from the back door startled her, grabbing her attention. “Ah,” the woman waved the air in front of her face, “I suppose I should take my leave—get cleaned up.”

“Of course,” Benedict said simply. “I won’t keep you.” In nearly an instant, the mysterious dusted lady disappeared from view, diving into the back door. He was taken aback by her candidness—having addressed him so forwardly without the pleasantries of a name exchange. “Damn,” he mumbled to himself, kicking residual flour off of his polished shoe, “I never asked for her name.” Would it be too forward to knock on the back door to ask for her? Benedict Bridgerton couldn’t wrap his head around the interaction—she nearly sent him into a tizzy.

“Brother?”

Eloise stood at the end of the alley, clutch in hand, face pinched in confusion.

“Ah, I suppose you’re finished?”

“Hardly,” Eloise scoffed, “Mother insisted on doubling the initial order ‘just to be safe’. She’ll be out in a moment.”

“Perhaps I should go inside to accompany her—”

“And leave your unwed sister unchaperoned in this part of town?” Eloise pressed a hand to her brother’s chest, stopping him dead in his tracks. His eyes danced quickly to the street in the distance, clearly not paying any attention to his sister. “Benedict?”

“Hm?” He glanced down. “Ah, maybe we should both go back inside—”

“You’re…” she pushed on him harder, nearly sending him backwards. “Acting strange. Not terribly long ago you wanted nothing to do with this place and now, you’re dying to jump into the building that brought you so much strife?” Eloise removed her hand from him, settling it down by her side as she glanced at him up and down. The blues of his outfit were covered slightly in a white power—not enough to really notice, but enough to give the appearance of filth. “And you’re covered in… flour?”

“I don’t wish to share every moment of my day with you, dear Sister,” Benedict said simply, sighing contently. “My business is my business.”

“Business,” Eloise parroted. “Sure.”

Violet Bridgerton had finished the order quickly, mumbling something about the higher prices this time of year—she had gotten a good deal regardless. Benedict was hardly listening, for he was already planning his next trip to this very bakery, hoping to meet the girl in flour once more.

He never did get the chance, to go back to town. His studies took up most of his free time, any other moment he had was spent with his ever-growing family. Just recently, his sister Daphne brought over her newest addition—another daughter named Belinda—who happened to be yet another spitting image of her mother. Benedict had a theory that every new Bridgerton baby will simply just inherit all the Bridgerton features, so far he had been proven correct.

“Damn,” Benedict mumbled, violently dabbing a paint brush into his water cup, the colors swirling from the end.

He had been in his studio for the last few hours, mixing endless pigments and oils together, trying to concoct the color in his mind’s eye. It was impossible, he theorized, to create the exact shades and hues of her eyes. It was the most striking thing he remembered about her appearance—save for the copious amount of white flour caking her form—and Benedict Bridgerton had come to the conclusion that her eyes were simply forged by God Himself, a color not meant for mortal recreation.

“Why can I not…” He sighed, slumping back in his stool, paintbrush nearly hitting his trousers. “This is impossible.”

The grand clock beside the door chimed out. It was nearly time to get ready for Anthony and Kate’s ball—an occasion he was most dreading, save for enjoying the few pastries that came from the quaint bakery down in town. Reluctantly, he began to pry himself from his studio and made his way to the washroom, preparing to soak away any remnants of her.

—

“Mother,” (Y/N) chimed out, tying the serving apron to her waist, “I don’t see the reason for my attendance this evening. Surely the hosts of the event will have their own serving staff?”

“(Y/N),” her mother exasperated, throwing a towel down. “Your brothers are ill and bedridden and have been the last few days. Your father and I are counting on you to help fulfill the order, my back isn’t what it used to be, if you recall.”

The girl sighed, her eyes rolling right up to the cracking ceiling. “How funny, it seems your back flares up nearly in time for deliveries to be made,” the girl mumbled.

“What was that?” Her mother turned quickly towards her only daughter. “I’m sure I misheard you.”

“You must have,” (Y/N) sang. “For I said I’m willing to help with the delivery, mother.”

The older woman narrowed her brow. “Never do I hear such sass from the boys… Perhaps a bit of manual labor will refocus your priorities.”

“I already agreed,” (Y/N) reiterated. “As if I had terribly too much of a choice…”

“No,” her mother clicked, slapping the a rather large ball of dough that resided on the floured surface. “You do not. Now come, help your mother roll this out.”

She had gotten ready for the ball in record time—seeing as how she’s never gotten ready for one. (Y/N) dug through her mother’s wardrobe, finding an old and somewhat outdated green dress to wear, but it did the trick just fine. It was far nicer than the frocks she had owned anyhow, a light embroidery laced the edges and was sure to be run over by her fingertips endlessly throughout the evening.

“The carriage is here!” Her father couldn’t have shouted louder throughout the small flat. Their home resided above the bakery, a quaint little thing with only two bedrooms—(Y/N) had the pleasure of sleeping in a rather over-glorified closet. If she reached her arms out, she’d be able to touch two of the walls easily, but like everything in her life, she made do. Unexpected child? Unexpected room.

“I’ll be right there,” (Y/N) said, tying the now-cleaned apron around her waist, checking herself in the reflection of her water pitcher. “Damned hair,” her fingers moved to tuck a loose ringlet back into position—she had spent the better part of the evening trying to style it.

“We need to load the carriage and make way to Bridgerton House,” her father repeated, smoothing his formalwear out. He hardly had the chance to wear it, seeing as situations like this happen only once in a while. “We must make a good impression, perhaps we’ll find more business this evening.”

“That’ll be a blessing,” her mother agreed, heading down the stairs to the bakery. “We could always use more business and the dowager viscountess is well liked around the ton, surely she’ll have pleasant things to say about our work.”

“I thought we let the pastries ‘speak for themselves’,” (Y/N) chimed in, carefully picking up a parcel. Her parents simply glared at her, allowing their daughter to silently move along with the loading process.

The silence continued throughout the lengthy ride to Bridgerton House—the bakers not uttering a word until disembarking to unload all of the sweets. True to her original thought, the Bridgertons had their staff do the bulk of the unloading, carrying each parcel and box into the grand room that was to be the heart of the ball, all that was left to move was the elegant cake specially ordered by the dowager viscountess.

“Do you need a hand?”

“Oh, that would be—” (Y/N) turned around to the mysterious voice, only to find the same Bridgerton boy from earlier in the week standing behind her. “I—Mr. Bridgerton, I’m sure I can find my father to assist, you really don’t need to—”

“I insist,” Benedict held up his hand, effectively cutting her off. “I shouldn’t allow a lady to carry such a thing on her own, it would be most improper.”

“I’m certainly no lady,” she scoffed, readjusting her apron. “I’m not a part of your ‘season’ or whatever it is you lot do during the spring and summer months.”

Benedict barked out a laugh. “Debuted into the Marriage Mart or not, you’re still a lady and I am ever the gentleman, so please, indulge me.”

A blinding heat flushed across her cheeks—she was sure it was visible from down the street. (Y/N) stepped to the side to allow Benedict to grab ahold of one side of the tray, her hands curling around the other. “Thank you… for your help.”

“It’s no bother,” Benedict said truthfully. “I’ve been practically bored out of my skull all afternoon, this is truly the highlight of my evening.”

“Helping me carry a cake?” She asked, turning a corner carefully.

“Seeing you again,” he hummed unabashedly, noting the way her grip stiffened. “Though I must say, I think I prefer you without the flour.”

“How do you know that girl was me? I was covered head to toe.”

“Your eyes,” Benedict said simply. “They’re the most expressive and exquisite eyes I’ve had the pleasure of viewing.”

Benedict Bridgerton. The man who made her speechless.

“That, and I made a bold assumption when I saw you and the pastries arrive this evening.” He laughed lightly, afraid to drop the masterpiece. “I assumed correctly, no?”

“You,” (Y/N) tried to allow her cheeks to cool before continuing.“Would be correct. Very wise you are, Mr. Bridgerton.”

“Benedict.”

“Benedict,” she repeated softly, twisting herself to set the cake down on the table. “My apologies.”

The ballroom was grand—much nicer than any place she’d dream of residing in—delicate decorations hung from the sconces, flowers covered nearly every inch of the free space. It was, in every meaning, elegant. “This is… where you live?”

“Ah,” Benedict rubbed the back of his neck. “My brother has been kind to allow me to stay here since he married, seeing as I only have my own property in the country. But yes, this is one of the homes I grew up in.”

“One of the homes,” she repeated back to him. “And here I thought I was spoiled with my broom closet.”

He turned a vibrant shade of red. “Oh! I didn't mean to—”

Her laughter filled the ballroom, the lightness practically lifting Benedict upwards. “I was merely teasing. I’m well aware of your status and wealth, Mr. Bridgerton—”

“Benedict.”

“Ah! Sorry,” (Y/N) felt the twinge of shame hit her chest, it was small but enough to keep her in line to avoid making the mistake again. “I meant it in jest.”

“Funny girl,” Benedict clicked, waving his finger lightly. “You’ve got quite a sense of humor.”

“Growing up with nothing more than sacks of flour and parcels of sugar allows one to get creative with her jokes,” she explained carefully, treading lightly as to not make it sound completely miserable. “Though, I think they were a better audience anyhow…”

“You wound me,” a hand grabbed his heart, knees buckling towards the ground. “Oh how the lady wounds me.”

“I believe I told you, Benedict, I certainly am no lady.”

“Well, the lady has neglected to give me her name,” he peeked up from the floor—having found quite a cozy position. “So how else should I address such a fair maiden?”

“Fair maiden,” she scoffed playfully, voice barely above a whisper. “Certainly am nothing close to a maiden… but, if you must know,” she paused, “my name is (Y/N), (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“(Y/N)…” Benedict repeated it, mostly to himself. He rose from the floor, eyes not leaving her own. “What a beautiful name.”

“I—thank you. I suppose you should give my parents such a compliment, though. I am simply the recipient of such a gift.”

“Well, when I ask your parents for permission to court their daughter, I’ll pass the message along.”

She froze.

“Ah, what was that?”

“I hate to be so bold,” Benedict sighed, shoving a hand into his pocket. “But I feel the need to let you know of my intentions—my interest in you.”

“Oh you must be mistaken,” (Y/N) shook her head. “You’d want nothing to do with a girl like me. Surely there are other women in the ton who strike your fancy?”

“Nope,” he said simply. “Not a one. You, on the other hand, with your striking eyes and seemingly endless beauty, piqued my interest. If I may be honest, I haven’t stopped thinking about our encounter in the alley—it’s been on the forefront of my mind for days.”

She blinked, the gears in her head trying to keep up with the words Benedict was speaking. “But I am not from your world, Benedict. Even if I was interested in pursuing a courtship—”

“Are you not?” His eyes struck wide open. “I’m quite the catch, you see. Well-bred, scholarly and, if I might say so myself, I’m quite the talented artist. Easy on the eyes, too.”

“Benedict.” He stopped and looked at the woman. She was practically glowing in the candlelight. “While I’m not saying I’m… not interested, I can’t help but feel like you are infatuated with the idea of me and not… me.”

“How do you mean?”

She laughed humorlessly. “You don’t know me, truly. My likes, dislikes, how I take my tea, what weather I fancy—”

“See,” Benedict grabbed her hand, “I wish to know those things. Is that not the purpose of a courtship?”

“I am not from your world, Benedict. I have priorities, a duty to my family and our business—I can’t spend a moment thinking of the frivolity of a courtship with a man of your status.”

“But if I were, say, the butcher’s son it would be different?”

“Yes,” she removed her hand from his. “Of course it would be. I’m surprised you haven’t thought this through.”

“I have been thinking it through since we’ve met,” Benedict nearly spat, feeling anger bubble up in his chest. “I am not the type of man who wishes to court just anyone, you know.”

“So you wish to court me just because you can? Because how ever could I say no?”

“I—of course not!”

“We’re perfect strangers who shared a moment—albeit an endearing one—out in the middle of an alley. We both cleaned up and went about our lives,” she shook her head. “Nothing cosmic or magical about it.”

“I did not expect you to be so against the idea, unless… there’s another man of your affections?”

She groaned, pinching her nose. “No. No other man. Has a woman ever said no to you before, Mr. Bridgerton?”

He paused, clearly taken aback.

“Well,” she smoothed the tablecloth, the wrinkle in the bottom corner was annoying her, “let me be the first, then. No, I am not interested in a courtship, nor do I think I have any interest in a courtship—with you or anyone—so do not take it terribly too personally.”

“Never? Don’t you plan to have a family of your own?”

“I already have a family,” she said simply. “I have no time for foolish ideas of having an adoring husband, three beautiful babies and a peaceful life out in the country.”

“That seems awfully specific—”

“No matter,” she waved. “Thank you for your interest, Mr. Bridgerton, I am flattered, truly.”

She walked away, hoping to hide in the carriage the rest of the night. Was she a fool? To turn down a courtship from such a sophisticated and notable man of the ton?

Benedict seemed to think so. True to her comment, he couldn’t recall a time in which a woman had rejected his advances—never in the name of a courtship, this would be his first—so to watch her walk away stung deeply, like a thorn to his heart. He was genuinely interested in the girl, he knew it. He just needed to prove it to her.

—

Days had passed since the Bridgerton ball and (Y/N) had successfully faked a stomach ache and ‘rested’ in the carriage until the night was over and done with. She was busy in the kitchen, working hard on a batch of fresh loaves for the storefront. Flour dusted her apron—the humor not lost on her—as she thought more and more about Benedict’s proposal.

The bell to the shop rang out, her brother’s voice gave a muffled greeting, nothing out of the ordinary for a regular day at the bakery. It was calming, to work with the dough, taking virtually nothing and creating something delicious was soothing to her soul. She continued to knead the dough, working it like clay against her palms before the door to the back swung wide open.

“(Y/N), I do believe you have a visitor,” Harry, her second eldest brother smirked. He had finally recovered enough to help around the shop again, much to their mother’s delight. “One of the gentlemen variety, if you must know.”

She stopped dead in her tracks.

“Did he give you a name?”

“Only asked for you,” Harry shrugged. “I figured you must’ve been expecting him,” he walked closer to her, taking over the kneading, “brought you flowers and looks rather fancy.”

She wiped her hands off on the already soiled apron, clapping her hands once for good measure. “Don’t over-work those, I’ll shove your face into the oven.”

Harry’s laugh rang out through the kitchen as she braved the door to the store. She knew it was inevitable, to expect him to come and try to woo her again, though she wasn’t expecting it so soon. The door felt rough against her palms, swinging wide open to the storefront. Sure enough, a one Benedict Bridgerton was standing by the counter, eyeing the various loaves on display.

“Ah, Miss. (Y/L/N),” Benedict said, almost bowing. “I’m delighted you could join me.”

“Mr. Bridgerton,” (Y/N) smiled sickeningly sweet, forced beyond all measure. “What a… surprise.”

“A wonderful one, I presume?” He jested. Her eyes found the colorful bouquet quickly, she was trying her hardest to not make eye contact. It was ornate—fancy, just like her brother said—decked out in a healthy mix of wild blooms and expensive looking flowers. “Ah! My apologies, these are for you,” Benedict said, lifting the bouquet across the counter.

She reluctantly took them, cradling the bunch as if it were a newborn babe. “Thank you, Mr. Bridgerton.”

He swallowed thickly at the formality of his name, but bit his tongue. “I must say, you looked exquisite at the ball, but I think your natural element suits you more favorably, why, you’re practically glowing.” Benedict pointed to her floured apron and messy frock, having been in the kitchen all morning. “Less flour than the first time.”

Her grip tightened around the bouquet. “Is there anything I can help you with? Perhaps another order for your mother?”

The man shook his head, laughing lightly. “No, no order. I just wished to see you.” The bluntness of his answer nearly shocked her, but the effect wore quickly.

“Perhaps I wished the opposite?”

“Oh, my dear,” Benedict practically mewled. “If that were true, you wouldn’t have come out here in the first place, now would you?”

Like a gaping trout, she had no reply. Perhaps he was right. She didn’t have to come out to the front of the store, the gnawing curiosity got the better of her and practically pulled her through that door.

“If you are here to try to get me to change my mind—”

“I wish to spend the afternoon with you.”

She blinked.

“Just one afternoon, allow me to try and prove how serious I am about courting you,” Benedict said earnestly. “After that, if you are still of the same mind, I will never bother you again. You have my word.”

Hesitantly, she lowered the bouquet, her shoulders slumping. She was thinking so hard about his offer, Benedict swore he could see steam rising from her ears. “I… cannot just leave the bakery, it’s my family’s livelihood—”

“I’ll buy the lot,” Benedict said, pressing a handful of coins onto the counter top. “Sell me whatever it is you make in a day—a small price to pay for a moment of your time.”

“You cannot simply throw your money at things and expect it to always work out for you, Mr. Bridgerton,” she said sternly, eyeing the sack of coins longingly. She would be kidding herself if the offer didn’t sound appealing. “I am no woman on the corner, you cannot buy my time.”

“Then consider it a tip,” Benedict hummed, pushing the bag closer to her. “For your excellent service at the Bridgerton ball. Nothing nefarious, nothing expected of you. Just a man buying some bread.”

“Loads of bread,” (Y/N) mumbled, quickly calculating how many loaves he truly was willing to walk out with. The amount of money was unclear, but if she had to wager, he practically bought out the whole storefront. Her parents would be thrilled—they could even take a rare day off, just because their daughter spent the afternoon with a practical stranger. “Fine. One afternoon.”

The glee that washed across his body did not go unnoticed, he practically lit up the room with his joy.

“You won’t regret this,” he said seriously. “Trust that my intentions are pure and—”

“—honest and true,” she droned, finishing his thought. “Yes, yes, I understand.”

Benedict nodded. “Right. Well, shall we?”

“Will you allow me a moment to change? I do not think you wish to spend your day with a girl caked in flour.”

“Funny enough, I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he grinned. She was unamused. “But, if you insist.”

It didn’t take long for her to clean up, a change in her frock and a readjustment to her hair was all that was needed. She found herself staring in her mirror a bit longer than usual, taking in her features. Could he really be interested in her? He seemed so taken by her looks when she herself considered them… so plain. She shook her head, effectively jumping out of her haze and proceeded to head back downstairs to meet her suitor for the afternoon.

“Perhaps you were right,” Benedict said softly. “This may be your best look to date.”

A heat warmed her cheeks and it wasn’t the summer sun. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Mr. Bridgerton—”

“Ah!” Benedict waved a finger. “If we are to spend the afternoon together, I insist you call me by my given name.”

Her lips pressed together in protest. “If you insist—”

“Oh and I do, my darling,” Benedict nearly sang.

“Benedict,” she corrected. “What sorts of plans do you have for this afternoon? Surely you did not produce such a grand gesture only to leave our day up to chance.”

“I am feeling quite parched,” Benedict said, almost ignoring her comment. “Care for a spot of tea?” In their walk down the street, he had managed to stop right in front of a quaint little tea shop. She hardly noticed.

“And if I do not care for tea?”

“I hear they have excellent scones and biscuits,” Benedict countered. “Surely not sweeter than you, but delicious all the same.”

“Sweeter than my scones, you mean?”

Benedict raised a brow, puckering his lips lightly. She heard him correctly the first time. “So. Tea?”

They sat at a small table near the back of the shop, a hot pot of herbal tea sat between them. It looked entirely domestic, a pot of tea shared between lovers, any onlooker could have deduced as much.

“Pass the honey?” (Y/N) pointed to the small jar next to Benedict’s hand. He nodded and pushed it closer to her.

“You take your tea with honey?” He probed.

“Herbal tea, yes,” she confirmed, stirring a spoonful into her cup. “If it is black tea, a healthy amount of milk is entirely welcomed in my drink, no sugar.”

“Interesting,” Benedict said, watching her intently stir the honey until it dissolved into the hot liquid. “I prefer plain black tea myself, though occasionally my brother Colin will bring exquisite teas from his travels across the seas.”

“And Colin is which brother?” The question slipped out quickly, she hardly noticed she had asked.

“One of my two younger brothers,” Benedict smiled gently. “Not much younger than I, but I do have a few years on him, not as many as I have on Gregory, of course. He’s practically the babe of the family—save for sweet Hyacinth.”

“Eight children…” She thought aloud. “Were your parents working towards a record number?”

“I always jest that they wished to complete the entire alphabet,” Benedict mused. “But, alas, twenty six seems a bit much.” He took a sip of his tea, enjoying the lingering aroma. “So, you know there are eight of us?”

“Everyone knows your family,” she said simply. “Do not flatter yourself.”

“Of course,” he hummed into his cup, a smile brewing from his lips. “You have siblings, yes? I believe I met your brother earlier.”

“Two older brothers,” (Y/N) groaned lightly. “Jack and Harry, the latter being the one you met. They are… oh how do I put this? Exceptionally irritating.”

Benedict laughed into his drink. “Sounds quite a lot like my siblings.”

“My parents expect Jack to take over the bakery,” she explained quietly, her voice lowering. “But he has no desire to bake whatsoever. He can hardly make a sponge cake.”

“And a sponge cake is…?”

“One of the most basic cake recipes a baker can learn,” she continued. “I usually end up being the one who pulls the slack Jack creates.”

“And Harry?”

“When he isn’t galavanting across town with the ladies of the night, he is holed up in his room doing Lord knows what. Certainly nothing that helps the family business.”

“You care a lot about your family and the business,” Benedict said, stating what is clearly the obvious. “Surely your parents see it too?”

“Oh no,” she shook her head wildly. “That is the most asinine part of the ordeal! They simply do not see me as an asset to the bakery—something that should rightfully be mine should the time come.” She sighed, throwing her head into her hands. “But, I am expected to keep my head down and decorate cakes like a good girl.”

“You say that as if you are their pet,” Benedict scoffed lightly. “Do they truly expect such obedience from you?”

“I wasn’t wanted,” she said simply. “My parents merely wanted a son to take over the business—Jack, he’s the oldest. Good for nothing, as it turns out. Harry was to have an extra set of hands around the bakery, but now he’s their prodigal child. Me? I was shacked with an over glorified closet for a room because there truly was no space for me.” She sniffled. “At least they got a decorator out of it.”

Benedict tentatively put his hand on her shoulder, giving her a reassuring squeeze. “You’re more than a decorator. Surely your parents see that too?”

“They’ll see some use of me when I get home,” she said into her cup. “Seeing as you bought out our store just to spend a measly few hours with me. I’m sure that in of itself is worth having an accidental daughter.”

Benedict all but scoffed at this. “You cannot be serious.”

“Not everyone comes from loving families that wish to do nothing more than pop out babies left and right,” (Y/N) deadpanned, placing her cup back on the table. “If it were truly up to my parents, they would’ve stopped after Jack. But, much like the society you come from, an heir and a spare, I suppose.”

“And you?” Benedict almost felt afraid to ask.

“It’s like you said,” she finished her cup of tea. “I am simply a pet.”

Benedict was never one for fights, but he suddenly had the urge to put his fist through a handful of faces in that moment. “That’s awful.” It was all he could say.

“That’s life,” she shrugged, picking up a biscuit and examining it closely. Her nose scrunched. “If you were trying to gain my favor, perhaps you should’ve taken me somewhere with better biscuits. It’s insulting to a baker to see such poorly made ones, especially in a place like this.”

He knew she was trying to change the subject. “I shall do better next time.”

“Yes, I suppose you—” she stopped. “That was a rotten trick and you know it.”

“I am certainly no magician, (Y/N),” Benedict finished his tea, hiding the most devilish of smiles from behind the cup. “But seeing as we’re finished with our pot, perhaps we can take a turn about the park?”

“You’d risk public outcry and a scandal for being seen with a commoner in the park?” (Y/N) asked, pulling herself from her seat. “What would Lady Whistledown say?”

“You know of Lady Whistledown?”

“Everyone knows of Lady Whistledown,” she scoffs. “I may not have the pleasure to afford her column every time she publishes, but occasionally our regulars will leave their pamphlet for me once they’re finished.”

“Only read the good bits, I take it?”

“As much as I don’t understand the world you come from, Benedict, reading Whistledown helps me fill the gaps I am so obviously lacking. Truly, even if I did grow up in your society, I doubt I’d be able to understand much more than I do now anyway.”

“I reckon you’re right,” Benedict said, a laugh escaping through his nose. “I’m not one for society anyway—never cared much for it.”

“Surely news of this would cause a scandal, though?”

“News that I am simply walking in the park with a friend? Oh how the newsboys will have trouble selling that story,” Benedict mused, leaning down towards the lady. “Perhaps if we were seen doing something less proper, I suppose. Do you wish to be doing something less proper, (Y/N)?”

She didn’t dignify his question with a response, though, the rouge on her cheeks was answer enough.

—

It only took a handful of minutes to walk to the park, the tea shop was so close already. How convenient.

The other ladies in the park, the ones of a more genteel breeding, they were dressed finer than anything (Y/N) could have put on. She felt out of place. She usually did, of course, but something about her outdated frock in contrast to how striking Benedict looked and dressed? It felt rather foolish.

Perhaps it was the notoriety of the Bridgerton walking beside her, or the self consciousness of being underdressed enough to catch the eyes of anyone walking past, but it felt like she was a spectacle—something in a museum or on display. She was holding bright light, nearly shouting at everyone that she was not enough, not worthy to be in this park, let alone with this man.

“I am tired of walking,” (Y/N) said suddenly.

“We have only just begun,” he laughed. “But if you require a respite—”

“Let’s sit,” (Y/N) said just as quickly, practically running to the edge of the pond. Perfectly out of sight to everyone.

“How secluded,” Benedict mused. “I daresay, I never thought you’d be so agreeable—”

“Hush,” (Y/N) admonished, holding a finger up. “I am simply in need of a break—away from prying eyes.”

Benedict nodded, not daring to pry further. He watched her slump to the ground, her dress skirt billowing around her like a cloud before settling to the gravity. He continued to stand. “I rather like this park.”

“A park is a park.”

“Have you been before?”

“Here?” She shook her head. “Obviously not.”

“My family, we would come to London during the social season,” Benedict explained. “Our usual residence is out in Kent—anyhow, my father had this spectacular notion to come to the park every week as a family. Looking back, it was probably to save face and show a united Bridgerton front.”

She looked up at Benedict, who was currently plucking a few leaves off of the low hanging branches of the tree. “Sounds wise.”

“He was the wisest,” Benedict agreed. “Keeping the ever-growing number of Bridgerton children entertained became a sport. Anthony, Colin and I were always squabbling, drove my mother rightfully insane, so, my father had a bright idea.”

“Paste your lips together?” She offered.

Benedict knelt down, close to the edge of the water. “No, but I do not doubt that idea crossed their minds,” he laughed, bringing the leaves in his hands to view, “my father suggested racing.”

“Horse racing?”

He shook his head. “We’d each pick a leaf and follow it to the other edge of the pond—kept us entertained for hours, running back and forth to reset our leaves and chase them down.”

“Smart man,” she hummed, genuinely impressed by the late viscount’s cleverness.

“So, pick your contender,” Benedict said softly, displaying the spare leaves like cards in a deck.

“You are serious?”

“Dead serious, I’m afraid,” Benedict clicked, pushing his hand a bit closer to her. “Come on, humor me.”

She looked down at the leaves and back up at Benedict, his blue eyes rivaling the color of the pond. Taking an interest in the middle leaf—it was the longest and skinniest—she plucked it from his fingers. “This one.”

“Excellent choice,” Benedict said cheerily, dropping the other leaves. “I am more inclined to a smaller one—seems they move faster down the shore.”

“Size isn’t everything, Mr. Bridgerton,” (Y/N) crossed her arms, resting them on her knees. She would never dare to admit it out loud, but she was having a bit of fun.

“Ah, perhaps not,” Benedict jested with her, her jab not even shocking him in the slightest. “But, I reckon it will be a close match regardless.”

After insuring that the lovely lady in his company was watching his movements closely, he set the leaves down on the surface of the water. “Finish line is by that tree over there,” he pointed, finally letting go with his other hand.

“May the best leaf win,” she giggled. Giggled? Good Lord. A crooked grin cracked on his face, focused too intently at the company rather than the match at hand. “Are you not going to chase them?”

“And leave you?” He scoffed. “Perish the thought.”

“I just thought,” her gaze was caught on the leaves, still floating down the edge of the pond—slower than she anticipated, “well, I suppose I wanted to get the whole picture of your family tradition.”

“Shall I run along the coast, then?” Benedict asked playfully, rising back to his feet, thumb pushed towards the water.

“Only to humor me,” she shrugged, not even fighting the smile on her face.

“Well, in that case,” Benedict began to remove his jacket, throwing it beside her. With a light jog he caught up to the leaves, they hadn’t gone very far anyway, perhaps if it were a windier day he’d have a faster time to keep up with. “You are in the lead!” He called out.

“Brilliant!” Her hands were clasped around her mouth, a cone to help amplify her shout. His smile was like the sun, warm and inviting—she wished she could spend the day in such a warmth. Benedict practically jumped for joy when the leaves made it to the final stretch, crossing to the rocks on the shore. Nearly falling into the water, he managed to scoop the leaves up and jog back to the woman in the grass. “Well?”

“Well, what?” He asked, nearly out of breath, smile still pulling his lips upward.

“The winner?”

“Ah,” he fell to the ground, sitting comfortably next to the baker’s daughter, pocketing the leaves. “A secret.”

“So you lost?”

“Oh, I assure you, if you won I would be celebrating you until the end of our time together,” Benedict sang. “However…”

“I lost?” She scoffed.

“A gentleman is humble in his successes,” he explained carefully. “We could go again?”

“No,” she said, humor in her voice. “I think that was more than enough excitement for one afternoon.”

“For once, we agree,” he said. “May I…? Could I ask you a question?”

“If you are proposing marriage, I am afraid I’ll have to decline—”

“No, no,” he laughed heartily. “Nothing of that sort.”

“I suppose I could find it in myself to answer a different question, then.”

“You were cold to me this morning,” Benedict noted, twirling a blade of grass between his fingers. “But not on the day we met. What changed?”

She sighed, pulling her knees to her chest, gaze locked out on the now setting sun. “I… am not entirely sure.”

“Surely it was not the leaves—”

“The leaves may have helped,” she admitted. “Humanized you, in a way.”

“Was I inhuman before?”

“Naturally,” she retorted. “I mean, is it not obvious?”

“You were protecting your feelings,” Benedict finally realized. “All this time. You did not wish to be hurt—truly afraid I was merely stringing you along as an elaborate prank or ruse? Is that right?”

“How could someone like you ever have an interest in a pauper like me? The baker’s daughter and the son of a viscount?” Tears dotted her eyes, threatening to fall. How she came so close to crying was beyond her. “It seems implausible.”

Benedict dropped the grass, fully looking at the lady beside him. She had made herself nearly as small as she felt. He had hit the nail on the head. A gust of wind blew by, bringing leaves down from the tree above.

“I do not think less of you because of whose daughter you are,” Benedict said softly, removing a stray leaf from her hair. His fingers guided her head towards him, begging for her to look his way. “I care only about you. Getting to know you. Frankly, your father seems like a mostly alright man, but I do not wish to know him the way I wish to know you.”

“You may wish for that,” she sniffled. “But what would the rest of your world think? You, trying to court a woman below your status—”

“The only people who should be caring so deeply about my potential courtship are my intended and me,” Benedict said sharply. “The rest of the ton can frankly kiss my rear end.”

This raised a laugh out of her. It was bubbly and pure, almost like the one of a child. “You truly don’t care what people think about you?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I do not.”

“How freeing that must be,” she said.

“Being the second son has its perks,” Benedict looked at her, really looked at her. “No one expects me to be proper all the time. I am given the freedom—financially and otherwise—to do as I please. I do not have to worry about inheriting a title, siring heirs, that is my brother’s responsibility.”

“Why me?”

His head quirked. “I do not understand?”

“You could court any girl of the ton,” she said. “And I am sure more than half of them would never turn down a chance to be courted by a Bridgerton—”

“They wished for the title,” Benedict sighed. “To be Viscountess Bridgerton, to marry my older brother and have the notoriety. That ship has already sailed, I'm afraid. You are kind in thinking that many women would be after me though.”

“You are not ugly,” she listed, “you have a great humor about you, a pleasant demeanor and a kindness in your eyes. The women of the ton must be foolish, then.”

“Perhaps the foolish one is you?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You truly think those things about me?” He asked, awaiting a response. Her jaw was slack, clearly not about to give him any sort of confirmation to his question. “I believe your words, I do. But perhaps you should look at yourself with such eyes?”

“I-I don’t understand—”

“Our class differences aside,” Benedict said, as if it was easy to just ignore that, “while I was taken by your beauty at first—your eyes are something the Gods themselves forged in the fires, stars rivaling their shine—it was your continuous personality that kept my attention. Granted, it helped you were once covered head-to-toe in flour, it really brought out your features.”

Her cheeks flared at the recollection of their first meeting. “It was not my finest moment.”

“And you were vulnerable all the same,” he continued. “You cared not for who I was, yet, you showed an interest in me anyway. You may not agree with that statement, but you and I know it to be true in some shape or form. The only thing that holds you back is this notion on our classes—”

“Perhaps I am interested in you,” (Y/N) cut him off. “Perhaps I wish to be courted by you, attend balls and dress in pretty gowns, drinking expensive drinks and whispering sweet nothings. But that is all that it is—a wish. I know my place in this world, it is a right shame you have such a fantasy about yours.”

“(Y/N)…”

“No,” she stood up, brushing the blades of grass and leaves off of her skirt. “I hoped that you would understand, Benedict. I agreed to this afternoon because it felt like I had no choice in the matter—you practically bought my time, after all. What I did not expect,” she hiccuped, “I did not expect that I would enjoy such an afternoon.”

“You enjoyed yourself,” Benedict rose to his feet, desperate to match her gaze head on. “Why can you not allow yourself to have that joy? Allow your heart to follow its call?”

“I do not have such liberties to listen to my heart,” (Y/N) said softly. “I must use my head for every choice I make. An afternoon with you allowed my family to have enough money to make it through the end of the season without going hungry—”

“And an afternoon with me has brought such happiness to fill your soul for much longer—”

“Happiness has little importance,” she scoffed. “I would rather see my family healthy and surviving than even think about a notion like happiness or joy.”

“You have said yourself that your family treats you like a pet,” Benedict took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. He needn’t explode in the park. “Why do you care so much about them if they care so little for you?”

“Because it is all that I know!” The candle had finally reached its end, burning out with a sizzle. “All I have ever known is my life in the bakery, rising early to make the dough, peddling samples to those walking by and hoping—praying—that they step in our store and purchase something. Because a sale of a few loaves of bread or cakes meant we could afford to buy vegetables for a soup, something to eat with our days old bread.”

“If you were with me, you wouldn’t ever need to think about things like that again,” Benedict said, his voice wavering on a whisper. “I could support you, support your family.”

“And that is precisely why I do not wish to continue this,” she raised her finger. “I do not need an affluent man to come and save me—”

“But I could help—”

“I do not need your help!”

“You obviously do!”

She took a step back, the tears from before finally reappearing in her eyes. “O-obviously? Because I am of a lower class you believe, in that giant and empty head of yours, that you can simply win my favor by saving me? Offering riches and experiences that I should be grateful and thanking every God that will listen that you are even willing to give me?”

“You know that is not what I meant—”

“You believe that because you are who you are, and I am who I am, that I couldn’t possibly say no to you,” her gaze flicked with anger, a fire looming. “While the ladies of the ton have their choices, I do not, so it makes it easy for you to pine over someone who simply has no choice in the matter.”

“No—(Y/N)—”

“This afternoon has been lovely,” (Y/N) spat, looking to the skyline—the sun had finally set, “but I am afraid that the afternoon is over. I shall be taking my leave.”

“Please reconsider,” Benedict begged, willing to try anything to get her to stay. “I wish to know you.”

“A shame, then,” (Y/N) said, turning around. “Wishing for something so foolish.”

—

“Her head is in the clouds,” Jack whispered.

“No, I reckon her head is in the dough,” Harry mumbled back to his brother.

“I can hear you, you know,” (Y/N) ground out, working hard on a rather unruly clump of dough that simply would not cooperate. “And if I can hear you, you are close enough to be helping.”

“But that is so exhausting," Harry groaned, leaning against the countertop. “Besides, how are you ever going to impress your betrothed if you do not keep such toned arms?”

She threw the dough against the counter—hard. “He is not my betrothed.”

“But you wish for him to be, no?” Jack giggled, playing with a few burnt buns—a mishap of his own creation.

“I say, Sister,” Harry said. “Why do you not pursue that Bridgerton? He clearly is interested in you, or, have you forgotten all of the flowers he has sent?”

The front of the shop was practically a florist’s dream—covering every free inch of counter space with beautiful bouquets. Her mother simply refused to throw out such lovely blooms, even going so far as to fish the first one out of the trash after her daughter made quick work to dispose of it. “How could I possibly forget about the man who continuously flaunts his wealth to get what he wants?”

“He wants you, surely that is not lost on you?”

“Of course not,” she continued to knead, a few hairs falling into her face. “But he is so insistent on getting me to agree to his whims simply because—”

“He has money, (Y/N),” Jack scoffed. “Good money. Christ, you spent half of a day with him a few weeks ago and we were able to finally purchase meat for dinner. Imagine if you married him—”

“So you want your sister to be married off for your own financial gain?”

“What else would you marry for?” Harry laughed. “Love?”

She stopped kneading. “Why do you not go and try to marry a wealthy lady, then? Hm? Surely a woman of genteel breeding would be much taken by the idea of a rugged baker—”

“That Bridgerton is already interested,” Harry shrugged. “At the very least, if you end up with child he would provide enough funds—”

“First you wish to marry me off, now you wish for me to have his bastard?” She couldn’t help but laugh, ignoring her hard work on the counter. “Why can I not make my own choice? I do not wish to be with Mr. Bridgerton, I wish to stay here at the bakery.”

“Fucking stupid,” Jack scoffed. “If I were in your shoes, I would let the gentleman pay for anything my heart desires—forget about this wretched place and move on with my life.”

“And abandon our legacy?”

“You mean my legacy,” Jack corrected. “I am to inherit the bakery, it is my birthright. You? I suppose I will allow you to continue your grunt work here—”

“Who else will do the baking?” Her voice rang throughout the kitchen. “Mother and Father are nearing the end of their career, both becoming too frail to continue with the rigorous task of this place. I am the only one—the only competent member of this family who can keep this shit afloat! And you want me to just… give that up?”

Jack stood a little straighter. “It was never your place.”

“Harry is set to inherit the bakery now, you know it. Yet someone had to fill the shoes of the family fuck-up instead, no?”

It was a sharp pain, suddenly and all at once against her cheek. It took her only half a second later to realize what had happened, her other brother’s face was only a confirmation on the fact.

“Jack, what the hell?!” Harry practically screamed. “You hit her?”

“She insulted me!”

“You deserved it,” Harry said, pushing his older brother back. “She only spoke the truth—”

“So I am allowed to be walked over by my baby sister?” Jack scoffed, pushing Harry back. “A woman? No fucking chance, mate.”

Her hand had covered her cheek, already feeling warm to the touch. Everything was too much, too loud, too bright. She had to get out of there, had to forget all about the dough on the counter, forgetting all about the brother who had just smacked her silly. The back door wasn’t locked—no surprise as Jack was the last one to use it—making it easy for her to push into the alleyway and into the rain.

Rain.

Pelting like bullets, the wet drenched her clothing in a mere instant, making it harder to escape. Where had she planned to run anyway? She had nowhere to go, her entire world was contained to the four walls of the bakery, never daring to explore the rest of it, not when her world was already so encompassing, so inviting.

In theory, anyway, it seemed.

So, she ran. A mix of running and walking, she kept moving forward. By the time she left her part of town, she knew her brothers would not bother coming for her. The rain alone was a deterrent, even Harry, the one who loved her more, wouldn’t dare to brave the elements just to reel his sister’s whims in.

A splotch of purple entered her vision. How long had she been moving? Did she even expect to come here? Did her subconscious send her in this direction for a reason?

She knocked on the bright door before she could find out.

“Good evening, ma’am,” a butter said politely. “What business do you have?”

“I am here to call upon Benedict Bridgerton.”

—

His quill had soaked the parchment below with ink, having left the tip upon it for far too long. He had been lost in thought, contemplative, especially the last few weeks. Benedict knew he had hurt her, had insulted her very being, yet he still tried. Every other day he’d send a fresh bouquet to the bakery, a new poem attached to the stems. Perhaps she read them? He knew it was more likely that she burned them, in the ovens or otherwise.

At the very least, he knew that the blooms were being displayed at the shop. Hope. That is what it had given him.

“Mr. Bridgerton, you have a caller,” a butler knocked, opening his door a crack wider.

“A caller? In this weather?”

“She seemed rather insistent,” the butler shrugged. “She is waiting in the drawing room—I already sent for tea and towels for the lady.”

“A lady is here to see me?” Benedict quirked his brow.

“A Miss. (Y/L/N),” the butler said. “No calling card, soaked to the bone and she seemed a bit… out of sorts.”

Benedict had already risen from his desk, practically pushing past the staff member to reach the stairs. Missing a step or two, he made it to the drawing room and shoved the door open. In the center of the blue room was (Y/N), dripping onto the wooden floor, shaking like a leaf.

“(Y/N)…”

“I-I had nowhere else to go,” she began to explain. “I did not even realize I was here until I knocked on the door. It was foolish—”

“No,” Benedict shook his head, reaching to take her hand in his own. “It is quite alright. You are more than welcome to be here.”

His hands were warm, or perhaps she was just that cold, making them feel like a fire. “I am so sorry, Benedict.”

“For what?” He asked genuinely.

“Everything?” She offered. “I-I am not sure of what, exactly, but I feel that I need to apologize.”

“You needn’t apologize for anything,” he said. “Not with me, not ever.”

She looked up at the ceiling, afraid to make contact with his blue stare. “I needed to get away. My brother he—Jack hit me.”

Benedict froze, his entire body went rigid. “I’ll kill him.”

“I suppose I deserved it,” she shrugged, now looking at the ground. “Talking back to him, assuming things that could never be—”

“A man has assaulted you,” Benedict squeezed her hand tighter. “Brother or not, he put his hands on you. You did nothing of the sort to deserve such a thing.”

“I don’t think I can go back there,” (Y/N) said softly. “Perhaps this was just the moment that gave me clarity. Opened my eyes, so to speak.”

Benedict took a good look at her face, red and splotchy, whether it was from the smack or the tears, he could not tell. “Tea is on the way, I shall request a cold compress for your cheek—”

“I do not wish to impose.”

“You shall wish for nothing here,” Benedict said quietly, firmly. “You will stay until the rain lets up, or, you provide me with a suggestible plan for your next steps.”

“I cannot go back,” she finally looked up at Benedict. “As much as I would like to, I simply cannot.”

“If you do not want to go back, I will support you. If you want to leave town, the country even, I will support you,” he said seriously. “Please allow me to support you.”

“I could never ask you for that—”

“You are not asking, I am offering,” he clarified.

“Benedict…”

The rain seemed to lessen, if the pelting against the window had anything to say about it. The noise had dimmed, not as violent as before. “To know that you are safe, that you are cared for, that is all I care about.”

So, in the center of the blue Bridgerton drawing room, soaked to the bone and dripping all over the floor, she kissed him. It was a sudden thing, pulling him down towards her lips, the contact much quicker than she had expected. He returned the favor in kind, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight, kissing her in a way he had yet to truly experience.

If his hands were like a fire, his lips were an inferno. Fighting for dominance, it was all encompassing. How had she gone so long without a feeling such as this? The burn was coming from inside, not a superficial one atop her skin as she was quite used to, but this burn, this feeling, she could find herself craving this.

“I-I am sorry—” she pulled away.

“Never be sorry,” Benedict shook his head. “Not for that, not ever.”

“I should not have done that…”

“No,” he agreed, a chuckle leaving his lips, “but how exhilarating it felt, regardless.”

His thumb ran lazy circles on her jaw. She leaned into the touch. “I do not know what to do, where to go…”

“But you cannot stay here…?”

She smiled sadly. “You know me scarily well, Benedict.”

He thought for a moment. “So… leave.”

“Excuse me?”

“Leave town, leave the country—”

“I do not have the means to do such a silly thing.”

“I will pay your way.”

She scoffed, trying to pull out of his embrace. He wouldn’t release his grip. “Benedict…”

“I told you, I wish to support you. Emotionally, financially, I want to be there for you,” Benedict said. “Even if we are not—if you do not want to be together romantically, I want to ensure your safety and your health, your well-being. A friend.”

She tried to find the lie in his eyes, in his tone. Coming up empty, she had no excuse to not believe him.

“France,” he said, as if struck by lightning.

“France?”

“I hear only the expert bakers study in France—I have no doubts you could go to learn,” he explained. “I could pay for your travel, housing, you name it. Ask for it, and it is yours.”

“I doubt anyone would want to teach a woman, no matter how lovely a thought it might be.”

“I have a cousin,” Benedict explained. “Her and her husband own a café—I am quite certain that they would love to hire an expert baker to add to their inventory and menu. You could earn your own income, make your own way. A fresh start.”

“A fresh start…” she repeated. “That sounds too good to be true.”

“I shall write to her in the morning,” Benedict said, holding her hands again.

“And you…?”

“I will only come with you if you want me to join,” Benedict said slowly. “I will not trap you. I want your happiness, your freedom.”

She nodded, understanding.

“I think France sounds nice,” she smiled. “Will you write to me?”

“Every chance I get.”

“Even if you are vexed with me?”

“Especially if I am vexed with you.”

She kissed his lips again, sweeter and softer than the first time.

“Sounds perfect.”

—

A year. An entire year had passed and she couldn’t recall a happier time in her life. The only time that something could have rivaled it was a visit to a tea shop followed by a respite by a pond—in handsome company all the while.

They kept correspondence, just like they promised. Every week came a new letter, a new story to be told by the poetic Benedict Bridgerton. She tried to rival his words, explaining every detail about France, about her new life, but something was nagging. She missed him. They had grown close over the correspondence, leaving her heart wanting more. But, she knew when she left for France it was to fulfill her dreams, leaving a foolish notion like love on the back burner.

“(Y/N),” Marie, the Bridgerton cousin, called out behind her. “We are in need of more buns.”

“I just restocked the buns,” (Y/N) giggled, turning to the blonde. “What? Has someone mysteriously bought the lot?”

“Oui,” Marie said with a jest, heading into the storage room, “perhaps you should go bring more out?”

“You are in luck, the last batch just finished resting from the oven,” she said, carrying a tray on her shoulder, “I will bring them out with haste.”

“I am sure he will appreciate it.”

(Y/N) faltered, hand already pressed to the door leading to the front shop. A tingle ran through her spine, her heart picking up to a freeing flutter.

Could it be?

“You know, I would buy your entire stock,” the man hummed, looking thoughtfully into the display case, “but I fear I would be recreating a rather taxing memory for the both of us.”

“Benedict,” she gasped, nearly dropping her tray.

“You look radiant,” he mused, that wicked grin of his breaking on his face. “Much like the first time I saw you—covered in flour.”

“I am in my element,” (Y/N) said sweetly, “just as you would expect.” She had noticed that Marie and her husband were not in the café, the sign flipped to close. “You planned this.”

“Do you insinuate that I bribed my distant cousin to close her café to give you the day off, travel all the way to France, hoping I could spend the day with you?” Benedict scoffed playfully. “You truly do not know me at all.”

“I do not think Marie would take a bribe,” (Y/N) said slyly, knowing how much of a champion the cousin had been for the baker and viscount’s son to get together.

“She refused payment,” he admitted, agreeing with her notion. “But, was ever eager to see you get out of the kitchen and enjoy yourself.”

“You hadn’t written to me in two weeks,” (Y/N) said, walking around the counter. “I was worried.”

“I needed to refrain from our correspondence, I fear I would have let the surprise slip otherwise.”

“Smart man,” she hummed.

“I am known to be smart occasionally,” he shrugged.

“What are you doing here?” She finally asked. “N-not that I am not happy to see you, of course, but as you had said, this is a surprise.”

“I came to study art,” Benedict said, a hand in his coat pocket. “I felt that if I truly wanted to learn the craft, I needed to learn from the masters—many of their works are housed here in France. I even began to rent a little home in town, finding the need to stay a while.”

“That is the only reason?”

Benedict’s gaze softened. “Of course it is not the only reason.”

Her heart fluttered again.

“It is only fair that I try this again, correctly and without the prying eyes of society, this time,” Benedict said, clearing his throat and spinning around.

“Correctly?” She giggled, watching him twirl to face the door.

“Ah, good morning miss!” Benedict said, turning back to face (Y/N). “I must say, you look ever-so-pretty—tell me, do all bakers have a beauty such as your own?”

“I would wager no,” she said, trying to keep serious. “Most of the bakers around here are men.”

“Shame. Might I learn your name? It seems only fair—I fear I might just die if I do not know the sweet sound of it.”

“(Y/N),” she sang. “My name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“Benedict Bridgerton,” he stretched out his hand, reaching for her own. She allowed him to take it, a soft kiss was placed on the back of her cracked hand—a working hand, one that she was proud to have.

“You are very charming, Mr. Bridgerton,” she hummed, looking deeply into his blue eyes. “Pleased to make your company.”

“I assure you, I am more pleased to be in yours,” Benedict insisted, kissing her hand again. “Tell me, do you have plans this afternoon?”

“It seems my schedule has cleared up,” she looked to the sign on the door and sighed. “Why? Do you have any suggestions on how I should spend it?”

“Might we take a turn around the park? A friend of mine has written to me about just how lovely one nearby is, I reckon I would like to see it for myself.”

She smiled brightly at him, as if he held the world in his hands. Instead, he held two leaves between his fingers—brown and cracked, but clearly treated with such care. They had been the same ones from their time at the park the first go around, she was nearly certain. Why else would he bring dead leaves with him?

"Leaves?"

"You see, my family, we have this tradition of racing with leaves—I would very much like to share it with you. These two in particular seem to be very lucky, thought it would be best to bring them along."

His smile melted her heart, endearing and thoughtful in the same breath. She could get used to a smile like that.

“Well… what are we waiting for, Mr. Bridgerton?”

#benedict bridgerton #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagines #this is a doozy and i am sorry #but only a little bit!!!

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myladysapphire · 4 months ago

Text

To Gwayne, with love

tired of being ingored and undervalued, you take your dragon and leave to find the one person who sees you for who you really are; your uncle, Gwayne Hightower

based of this request

word count: 5,086

CW: MDI, 18+, smut, loss of virginity, p in v, fingering, oral (f reciving), incest, angts, love letters (if the title wasnt a hint), fluff, love confessions, not proofread!

Gwayne Hightower x neice!reader

Masterlist

Growing up as the eldest child, and eldest daughter of Alicent and Viserys you had long felt unwanted and overlooked.

Where your twin, Aegon, was seen as a future king, the rightful heir, you were seen as only a daughter, pushed to the side and out of the limelight.

Always looked over, even when it came to marriage. Where it made sense for you to marry Aegon, Heleana married him instead.

You were overlooked, and often forgotten.

Even events held in your honour were overshadowed, be it by your twin or your eldest sister Rhaenrya.

Countless nights tears had filled your eyes as you were pushed aside in favour of another sibling.

It was a funny thing really, you were the eldest daughter and yet were the last to be betrothed, excluding Daeron that was. And yet you had once been dubbed the Realms heart, you had been kind and sweet. But years of neglect, being undervalued and ignored had turned you cold and restless and made you a rebel. Where your uncle Daemon was the rouge prince, you were the defiant princess.

You had stopped waiting by the sidelines, stopped keeping too yourself and your thoughts stopped being quiet. you become outspoken, even more so when your brother was crowned king.

But all that seemed for nought as you were now meet with roll of eyes and the sound of the key locking your chambers from the outside.

You couldn’t say you were surprised, not when your mother seemed to hate you more than Aegon.

She never understood you, only one person had.

Gwayne Hightower, your uncle.

You and he had an understanding that others could only envy, you couldn’t put it into words but ever since you had meet him you felt inexplicitly drawn to him.

And yet you had only meet him thrice.

But those three times amounted into countless letters.

When one was sent two would follow, even on the road Gwayne never failed to write.

Until now.

You were sat in your chambers and an ache in your chest as you read through the last of Gwayne letters. Near two weeks had passed since his last had arrived, and these past two weeks had been when you had needed his letters the most.

dearest niece,

Words cannot describe the joy I felt upon seeing you the other, even if only for a few hours before my departure.

You have grown ever so beautiful, and I envy those who got to watch you became the beauty you are today, though I envy them more for the endless pleasure of your company.

Who knew your wit was even more compelling in person, dear niece?

I sure did not and yet your endless humour is known what I crave as I am stuck of this endless rode with ser Criston as the most interesting of my companions.

And let me tell you he is far duller than you painted. (Not that you painted him to have much of a personality aside form swords and a love for oranges.)

Perhaps it his cockiness or the self-righteousness he has as the new lord hand, which makes his so dull. He seems to love to point out his new station to us all, especially my Hightower knights, as if that will win him any favours.

Though I truly believe he thinks himself funny, though his voice is always far to monotone to decipher what is an attempt at a joke or what is orders and commands.

Gods, I wish I had stolen you away with me, even just to share the looks at Criston ‘jokes’ as he calls them.

Honestly, he is perhaps the dullest man I have ever met, what your mother sees in him I’ll never know.

But I must admit little of my time is spent completing his joke when I cannot stop thinking of you.

Tomorrow, we ride to rook’s rest, he says he has some plan, I do not quite believe it will be a good one, but I shall prey to the seven that we will be victorious, and I may see you again.

Yours, Gwayne.

You had replied far to quickly though being locked n your chamber after yelling you would ride your dragon to meet your uncle would of course leave you with little to do.

To Gwayne,

I am truly sorry you are stuck with such a dreadful man, if I had gone with you I can assure you however there would not have been much time to dwell of Cristons joke attempts, I would steal far to much of your attention, perhaps enough were you were unable to fight in this silly little war.

I do hope your thoughts of me do not distract you too much.

I wish you great luck in at rook’s rest though I fear you may have to face Meleys, and in which case I pray my mother sees sense and allows me to ride out and join the fight on moonfyers, though I Highley doubted.

But from Aegon’s visit to my prison cell (my chamber’s), it seems he is quite egar to fight, though seeing as how the small council so easily sway his mind, I doubt he will, unless he drinks himself into a false sense of courage that is.

But I pray you do not repeat those words, especially to my mother.

I too crave for your presence; it is a misery that despite years of letters we have met thrice! And the third was only days ago.

Perhaps when you go, we can make your visits permanent.

I pray for your victory uncle, and your next letter.

With love, your dearest niece.

You had sent that letter 12 days ago; rooks rest was 10 days ago.

Of course, the journey back must be accounted for, but no one had any news, besides the death of Meleys and the princess Rhaneys, the queen who never was.

You had rather liked her, in fact you hoped to model yourself of her in some way. Though you had no right to morn you suppose, you had never spoken to her bar the common pleasantries.

You stood starting out of the window, craving the day you could smash them down and make your escape. Though where you would go, you did not know. Before the war you had one destination in mind, oldtown. Now there was no one there for you, just as there wasn’t anyone here.

The forgotten daughter. No matter how defiant you became you would only be tolerated and ignored. Your actions simple receive a tolled eye and of course, the action of yet gain being locked in your chamber.

Perhaps if your mind hadn’t been so caught up in your loathing and thoughts of jumping from your window onto the back of moonfyers you would have noticed the door opening and the feel of hands slowly covering your eyes.

You jumped in shock as your eyes were covered, only to calm down when a voice spoke.

“Guess who?” a mans voice teased, though it was the voice you had ingrained into your memory.

“Gwayne” you breathed turning around.

He laughed as you hugged him.

“When did you get back?” you asked, arms still wrapped around him.

“Only moments ago,” he sighed, “did you miss me?” he teased.

Slapping his arm lightly, you stepped back “of course not”.

“Hmm…really?” he tilted his head, clicking his tongue, “I could have sworn your letter said- “

“Stop it!” you said hitting his shoulder again.

“Fine!” he said raising his hands up in mock surrender, “only if you top hitting my arm, your poor uncle has just fought a battle”.

You rolled your eyes “and am I to presume you were victorious uncle?”

“If you could call it that”.

“What do you mean?”

He looked nervous, an expression you had never seen on him before, “your brother Aegon- “

“Aegon went! That fool”

“a fool who got himself injured”.

“what” you asked, voice full of concern. Though an outcast, overshadowed by your twin, you still cared for him greatly, even if he never showed care for you in return.

He explained what had happened and your mind spun, no one had said a thing to you and yet your twin brother lay dying in his rooms.

“I must go see him” you rushed out, heading towards the door, only for Gwayne to grip your arm.

“Go later.” He insisted, “for now stay with me! and here my woeful tales of battle”.

Shaking your head with a laugh you sit back down, listening to tales of Gwanye’s journey and of the battle, and all thoughts of Aegon were forgotten.

You woke up finding yourself wrapped in Gwayne arms on your settee. You didn’t remember falling asleep, only talking and watching the sunset and rise once more.

It must have been past noon and yet no one had knocked or come to see you, not that they had before now.

You looked over at Gwayne, he was tired, even after hours of sleep he still had bags under his yes.

Removing yourself from his arms slowly, you made your way out of your rooms and towards your brothers.

Aegon lay alone. The room dark and empty, bar his aching, unconscious body, half his body covered in bandages, his body deadly slit and his breath shaky.

You moved closer to the bed, coming forward and placing a soft kiss on his brow.

He may be terrible, drunken whoremonger but he was still your brother.

“Aegon” you breathed heavily, taking his unburnt hand in yours, “I- “ the doors opened, and your mother barged in, “get out!” she demanded.

“Mother, I- “you said standing up.

“Get out” she said once more, coming to sit by Aegon’s side.

Standing up and moving towards the door slowly, “he’s my brother, I have every right to be here!”

She looked at you, scoffing “that matters not, now leave and go back to your rooms”.

Rolling your eyes you left and stormed back to your rooms.

“Gwayne” you breathed, seeing him now awake and sitting up, reading a book.

“How Is Aegon” he asked, as you approached.

“a sleep? I do not know my mother sent me out only a few moments after I had entered.”

He kissed his teeth, “your mother has changed much recently”.

“Recently? She has always been liked this, with me at least”

“I know, my darling… I think she- “he stopped himself, looking at you, “I am not sure what she thinks actually, me and her where never close growing up”.

You huffed, looking over at him and realising that the book he was reading was in fact your diary.

“Is that my diary!”

“no” he said dragging out the word as he moved the book out of your reach.

“Where did you- how did you”

“Do not worry how your “beautiful and daring uncle” found it”.

You gasped, crawling over him to try and reach your diary.

He laughed, as you grasped at the book, “give it back” you insisted.

“But Gwayne would be never- “

You reached the book, slapping it out of his hand, “how much of it did you read?”

“Why did you not want me to read of how much you missed me?”

“Gwayne” you sighed, looking at him, you were practically lying on him, your hands leaning on chest as you reached for your diary of the floor.

“darling” he replied, before looking at you sadly, his hand reaching to caress your cheek, “I have to go soon”.

“To your chambers or to oldtown?” you asked sadly.

“Oldtown, I – “

You interrupted him, “when?”

“We leave after dinner, we thought it best to travel at night, out of sight of dragons”.

“I see” you said moving off of him. He reached for you, trying to draw you back towards him.

Everyone always leaves or ignored you. It seemed no matter how close you got you were so easily abandoned, never once had someone stayed.

“I would ask you to come, but your mother would never allow it” he said shaking his head.

Why would she allow it? It would make you happy and the gods know how much your mother craved your misery.

“Do you think there will ever be a time when-when we can spend limitless time together?”

“I hope so, I- “he always stopped himself from saying it, saying the one thing they both craved.

“As do I”

The rest of the day was spent together craving to spend every second that they could together, but in the end, he had to leave. He was bound by duty and honour.

Saying goodbye this time was harder than the few times before it. You both stood in the courtyard, his men stood the side, their own conversations distracting them.

Your mother having said her goodbyes, and had left the courtyard already, leaving you both to say your goodbyes.

“I hope it is not to long before I can see you again” you said looking down to thew ground and kicking at the gravel.

“As do I” Gwayne said grabbing your hand and kissing it gently.

Your eyes shared a look, a look saying everything you both couldn’t.

“I’ll miss you” you breathed heavily, eyes never leaving his.

you both stepped closer, now inches apart.

You moved your lips to kiss his cheek, only for Gwayne to move his head and capture your lips with his, in a soft delicate kiss.

The shadows of the keep kept you had hidden from wandering eyes as you kissed.

It was short but sweet and left you both wanting more as he was forced to step back from you.

He whispered softly “I will think of you, always”.

“As will I” you said, reaching into you hem and pulling out your handkerchief, you had sown the initial of your name and his ono it, and placed it in the palm of his hand.

Closing is hand you softly placed a kiss onto it.

“goodbye” he spoke, before moving to his horse and riding off, sending you a final look before he left.

The days tricked by, blurring together. Aegon’s recovering slow and with little change.

You stayed in your room, much to your mother’s delight.

Letters were exchanged between you and Gwayne. But this time the letters seemed different, this time they were bolder, your feelings no longer hidden.

Dearest,

I left you only moments ago and yet I miss you already.

That kiss was everything and more, I cannot believe it took us so long to do it, even of it happened by a mistake.

I am sorry our reunion was so brief, and I wish I was bound to you and not duty.

I shall write again soon, but in the meantime, I hope the thought of you in my thoughts will tide you over.

Yours, Gwyane.

Dear Gwayne,

You just left my side and yet apart of me left with you.

I hope your thoughts are filled with me as mine are of you.

The walk back to my room was a long one, longer than it had ever taken me as I had to drag myself away from you, away from moonfyers as thoughts of chasing after you filled my mind.

My mind was a mess all night, much to my mother’s disappointment. Though I doubt she noticed my mind was with you and not in the keep.

This morrow I was awoken absurdly early and summoned to the small council!

And before you say anything I am not sure as to why, even after attending it.

I seemed to be there as a way to boost Aemond’s moral? Or should I say the prince regents.

I was simple them to watch plans be made, and to be told of an alliance, a marriage between me and some lords son, I believe some Tully.

I refused and they demanded.

I offered my dragon, they refused, and I demanded.

They claimed a woman in battle would only lead to a loss. Even if moonfyers is bigger than most for her age and even rivals Caraxes.

Anything else was ignored and dismissed and I was quickly ushered to my chambers and forced to plan a wedding.

A wedding I wish was with you.

I do not know what to do, uncle.

Please tell me to come to you, and I will.

Yours always.

My love,

The days are endlessly long, and I find myself craving you by myside more than ever.

You chase my every though both awake and asleep.

And forgive me for beings bold, niece, but I can, no will not hold back what I have longed to crave any longer.

I wished I had placed you upon my horse and ridden of with you into the night, defying your mother and brothers’ commands.

But I want you, more than I need air to breath. And for so long I have defied myself and held back my desires, my love for you.

I beg you, come to me.

Forget their plans and demands, come to me and marry me.

I am set to arrive in old town in two days, leaving you plenty of time to come to me.

With love, Gwyane.

To Gwyane,

I will come to you, it may take a few days, but I cannot stay here. And I will not stay away from you any longer.

With love, your heart.

you sat in your chambers, contemplation how you to leave.

Though there were secret passageways in your room, you had never used them. They were like a labyrinth in truth and the one time you had speed in them you feared you would get lost.

And the guards stationed outside of your door were stationed for the exact reason you were event you were currently planning.

your other would never let you go willingly, not now especially.

But then again you doubted she would notice you were gone, at least for a day or two.

Heleana may notice, but she wouldn’t say a thing.

Aemond had just been given what he always wanted and would flaunt his power as much as he could, meaning he’d keep put of your way, in fear you would ‘act up’, as he called it, and embarrass him.

This meant that the guards were your only issue, and perhaps Larys spy’s. though you cared not for them for what could they do to stop you? Tattle to Larys who would sell the information for the sight of your mother’s feet? Even then you would have a few hours.

Luckly for you however, you knew your guards. And they had a penchant for wine.

“Steffon, Gregor” you whispered opening your door a bottle of Dornish red in hand.

“Princess” they nodded, tuning around to ignore you.

“You must be bored” you started, “perhaps you can join me for a drink?” you said, fluttering your eyelashes.

They turned to face each other unsure of what to do, “oh come on, know one will care. You’ll still be guarding me, won’t you?”

Their eyes wandered to the bottle of wine “is that the only bottle, princess?”

You scoffed, “of course not”.

They smiled and ushered you in to your chamber.

It was funny, you must have done this a dozen time before and they still fell for it every time.

And being such lightweights, they were quick to fall into a drunken sleep, allowing you to grab your bag and make a run for the dragon pit.

Running through the streets of Kingslanding at night were dan, especially in your rich clothes and jewels.

And seeing as you had only walked to the dragon pit once or twice, with the company of a dozen guards, the run was a lot longer than expected.

Getting lost in the never-ending streets of flea bottom was easy, and before you knew it you had somehow ended up on the streets of silk.

“gods” you mumbled, looking around in search of a sign to lead you in the right direction.

You could see the dragon pit, so at least you weren’t too far away, only issue is the brothel with the name ‘Chantaya’s’ seemed to stand in the way of a quick exit.

“sister” you heard someone say, and the sight of Aemond exiting said brothel, through you into a sprint once again.

You were sure you looked like some pick pocket as you ran through the street, Aemond hot on your tale.

And with being such a stranger to kings landing you found yourself meeting an end and Aemond catching up to you.

“Let go of me” you muttered trying to pull yourself free from Aemond’s grasp.

“Who let you out” he sneered.

“Does it matter?” you sneered in return, “what are you even doing here?” you asked, and Aemond face dropped.

“I could ask you the same”.

“I wanted to go to the dragon pit” “the dragon pit” he reiterated, not believing you. “To what? Declare for the usurper?”

“Gods no” you near yelled, “I- “you were hesitant to tell him, having never got on along with him and never having much to say to him at all, this was honestly the most you and he had spoken since the start of the war. “I wish to go to oldtown”.

��why”

“To…to see Gwyane”.

“Our uncle?”

“Do you know of another Gwyane I could possibly wish to see in oldtown?” you said snidely.

He hummed, looking at you with a smirk, “I am your prince regent, I command you know” he said, “one word from me and I could have you locked in the black cells, or I could command you to go to oldtown to gather forces, with Gwayne”

You hated that you looked at him hopeful and hated even more that if he asked you would beg.

“But why, dear sister? Should I command you to oldtown? You are the future lady Tully after all”.

You scoffed, “oh please, we both know the Tullys are hardly loyal now and the second old Grover Tully dies they’ll declare for the black’s”.

“true”

“And why would you want me here anyway? I do not listen, and I defy your every move, sending me a way would better your rule, would it not?”

“Oh sister, you truly have been undervalued. Fine I shall take you to the dragon pit and order you to oldtown.”

Order you? As if there was a single part of you that did not already crave to be there, with him.

The walk to the dragon pit was a quiet and awkward, with Aemond pulling you by the hand, a tight grip as if you would try to escape.

Not a word was exchanged even as you entered, only your words commanding the dragon keepers to fetch you moonfyers and Aemond stood beside you in his usual stance.

He gave you a taunting wave as you took flight, and you never looked back.

It took five hours for you to reach oldtown.

A storm thundered as you entered the reach, rain dowsing your and obstructing your vison. Had it not been for the bright blue scales of your brother’s dragon, Tesserion you were sure you would have flown into the Hightower.

Landing, you were quickly greeted with guards and the face of your brother Daeron.

“Brother” you greeted as you slide of your dragon, “a pleasure to see you!”

“And you, Gwayne said you were coming” he nodded, hand raised to stop rain pouring over his face, “come in, quickly”

The Hightower, was exactly as you envisioned, filled with riches and symbols of the seven. It looked like a museum almost.

You were brough into a room lined with seats and walls filled with books. Painting filled with the faces of old lords and ladies, and tapestry depicting Aegon s landing in oldtown and his coronation.

“niece” you heard a voice breath, causing your inspection to come to a halt as you turned and faced Gwayne,

“uncle” you breathed in return and not a moment later were you running into his arms and your lips meeting once more.

This kiss was different than the one in the courtyard, this one was filled with longing, filled with pure love and desire.

Years of want filling you mouths your lips moved against each other.

“Gwayne” you whispered against his lips, as you both breathed heavily, your heads leant against each others.

He whispered your name in return, “you came” he breathed, not quite believing it.

“of course, you asked…and the prince regent commanded it”

He laughed “what?”

“when I was making my mistake i came across Aemond leaving a brothel” you laughed, “and somehow he decided to command me to oldtown to gather forces”

“oh?” he said, head tilting, “I see…does that mean you now command me?”

“do I not anyway?” you asked tauntingly.

He laughed, grabbing you to him once more and pulling you into another kiss, “I believe we command each other, my love” he said breaking the kiss.

“my love?”

“my love” he agreed, caressing your cheek, “I love you” he finally admitted.

And you smiled. Looking at him as he always looked at you.

He always had seen you, understood you when no one else did.

And the look in his yes, it was pure love and you had never felt more seen than in this moment.

“I love you” you replied, and he smiled.

“come with me” he said taking your hand and leading you up to his room.

His room, though perhaps smaller than others, was still large and full of all things Gwayne. With his own mural and tapestry.

“do you like it?” he asked, taking note of your eyes that had not left the tapestry he had commissioned.

“is that?” you asked, unsure if you were seeing it right.

“Moonfyer and you, yes”

“gods, Gwyane” you said breathlessly, a mural of you riding moonfyers for the first time, your second time meeting Gwyane and the first time you and he realised the bond between you both.

You turned to face him, and kissed him once more.

Unlike before this kiss was heated, passionate and full of lust.

His hands moved to your waist, as you slowly moved towards the bed, your hands reaching and pulling at his clothes, taking them of and leaving him in only his small clothes.

Your dress wet and soaked was quickly torn of you intern, leaving you only in your soaked chemise.

Their lips broke apart as her legs hit the bed. Taking each other in Gwayne moaned at the sight of your breast peeking out through the now sheer chemise.

“can i?” Gwayne breathed, hand coming to toy with the strap of your chemise.

You nodded, allowing your chemise to slip and leaving you bare before him.

“gods” he breathed, “ you are beautiful” he said, before pushing you down on the bed, his lips connecting with yours.

His lips moved from your mouth to your neck, nipping at your skin, causing you to moan softly.

He kissed his way down your body, before he reached your cunt.

“can i?” he asked once more, eager to taste her cunt.

“yes” you said, not quite sure what he intended to do until you felt his nose nudge between your thighs and a slow lick alone the length of your cunt.

groaning at the taste, he quickly went back licking and tasting your cunt, like a man starved. You moaned pleasure, hands moving to tug his hair as he found your clit.

Touching yourself had never felt like this, the sheer pleasure you felt as he sucked your clit into his mouth was better than any orgasm you had brought yourself to before, even more so when you felt his fingers toying with your entrance.

You tensed as his fingers entered you. They were thicker and longer than your own and you started to feel the stretch as he pumped you full of his two fingers.

You moaned, your body moving off the bed as you his fingers pumped in and out.

His hand moved to your waist gripping you down as he continued to fill you, your moans filling the room as his third finger entered you and you soon reached your peak.

He slowly backed away from you, pulling down his small clothes to revel his hard, thick cock.

“oh!” you spoke, at the sight of him.

“oh? Not good enough niece?” he asked teasingly.

“gods, it, yes” you nodded, reaching out to him.

He laughed, before slowly crawling onto the bed, his body covering yours. Taking your lips his, in a passionate and heated kiss, as his legs slowly parted yours as he positioned himself at her entrance.

“Are you sure?” he breathed against your lips, hand holding your waist as his cock teased your entrance.

You nodded, reaching forward to kiss him again, “yes”.

At the word he entered you slowly.

You groaned at the stretch but found no pain as he entered you.

His long cock filling you, a bulge appearing in your stomach as he allowed time for you to adjust.

“gods, you feel amazing” he groaned, moving his head to the nape of your neck “can I move?” he groaned, as your walls wrapped around him.

Nodding, “yes” you breathed. And wasting no time he began to slowly pump in and out of you.

You moaned as he thrusted into you, your hips moving to meet his as he picked up the pace.

He groaned at the feel of you moving against him, has hands gripping your waist as he started to thrust into you faster, he soon found that sweet spot inside you, that quickly turned you into a moaning mess. And soon you were wrapping your arms around him, clawing at his back as you felt your peak it washes over you and the feel if his seed filling you.

Your breath was heavy, his even heavier as he lay on you, his face still in your neck leaving soft kisses as he started to move of you slightly.

“marry me” he said, giving you soft kisses between his words. “this place is filled with septon’s it will be easy to find one to marry us.”

“okay” you said, looking into his yes.

“okay?”

You laughed, “yes, Gwyane I will marry you.”

taglist

@apollonshootafar @flrboyd @theanxietyqueen17 @dark-night-sky-99 @zillahvathek @leavesmealobe @winter-soldier-101 @bunbunbl0gs @ka1afbr @tesha-i-guess @aemondwhoresworld @RAYNE TARGARYEN 2 @littlebirdgot @eddieslut69 @beebeechaos @jennifer0305 @rosedurin @berightback1409 @barnes70stark @cloboboo @aegonswife @nessjo @helo1281917 @ateliefloresdaprimavera @perla434 @lilah102-blog @scorpiosmalfoy @random-human02 @f1wh0recom

to be added to taglist

#house of the dragon #hotd #gwayne hightower x fem!reader #gwayne hightower x reader #gwayne hightower #house hightower #gwayne x niece!reader #gwayne x targaryen!reader #freddie fox #gwayne x reader #ser gwayne #hotd season 2 #hotd spoilers #sacha writes ✍️

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sincerelyneo · 1 month ago

Text

juno | l.hc

“one of me is cute, but two though…?”

💿now playing: juno by sabrina carpenter

❯ summary: Kids were never really something you thought about. But then you saw your sexy as fuck boyfriend playing uncle and now you can't stop thinking about giving him a baby of his own. What can you say...your hormones are high.

❯ pairings: haechan x fem!reader

❯ genre: smut, established relationship

❯ words: 2.7k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, unprotected sex (don't do this!), swearing, breeding and pregnancy kink, possessiveness, dirty talk, begging, praise, creampie, slight angst not really idk, fluff, reader uses she/her pronouns, literally just the reader getting baby fever from seeing hyuck with kids (very real el oh el.)

an: i know this is like my third haechan post in a week, but i literally don’t care. sue me x

You didn’t want kids. Well, that’s not true. You were indifferent to kids.

That was until you saw your boyfriend with them. You didn’t think you could be more attracted to him, but then he had to go and check off the "great with kids" box. Maybe it’s just his playful side, but Lee Donghyuck is just so good with them.

And being forced to attend his niece’s first birthday party made you realise it. Honestly, you’d never given much thought to the idea of kids—cute yes, ready to give up endless nights of sleep, no.

But the minute after you walked through his childhood family home and were done greeting his parents and siblings, a swarm of kids ran at him, hugging his legs and stomach. And he just melted into them, so gentle and excited. It was cute and made you smile.

From then it was him letting his oldest niece cover his tanned cheeks in blush and stickers, to tossing a ball with his nephew after he announced he made the basketball team—and don’t even get started on him poking the chubby cheeks of his youngest niece, her soft giggles filling the backyard of the party.

It was like he was in his element—soft, loving, and completely at ease. And even though his nieces and nephews had other uncles and aunts, they’d always say Uncle Hyuck was their favourite—even if they weren’t supposed to.

You watch him from the patio door in the kitchen, overhearing him tell his dad he’s “too young to be having the adult conversations,” which was really code for ‘let me play with the kids.’

Running around, telling jokes, creating games. It had your stomach turning and—were your heart strings being pulled? Seeing this absolute perfect man, so caring and playful, living just to make those little ones laugh and smile, had you seriously considering the sleepless nights that might come with having some of your own.

Wait.

“He’s good with them, huh?”

You jolt, turning to see Hyuck’s sister standing behind you.

“Uh... yeah, I guess so,” you shrug. She steps beside you, and the two of you stand there, watching your boyfriend bounce his niece in his arms, soothing her gently.

She giggles, and you glance over at Hyuck’s sister again. “What?”

“Nothing,” she shrugs. “Just... you’re looking at him like you’re ready to add to the Lee family name.”

You gasp. “I am not!”

She gives you a knowing look, and you bite your lip, eyes shifting back to Hyuck. This time, he’s handing his niece a sippy cup, tapping her nose. Your chest tightens.

“Okay... I suppose he is good with them.”

Hyuck’s sister nods, humming in agreement. “He always has been. With every younger sibling, every cousin—even when I had my first daughter, Hyuck was the most excited.”

He’s sitting on the grass now, all his nieces and nephews swarming him, tickling him. He’s being extra dramatic, letting the younger ones tug at his hair just to make them laugh. You stare, warmth and wholesomeness filling you.

“He’d make a great dad, Y/N.”

The statement is completely sobering.

“Uh,” you stammer, running a hand through your hair. “I don’t know. We haven’t really talked about it.”

That’s not entirely true. You had spoken about it—once. You’d told him it wasn’t something you had planned for but weren’t necessarily opposed to, and the conversation had never come up again.

Hyuck’s sister blinks at you, clearly confused. “That’s crazy. Hyuck’s always said he wants to be a dad.”

Clearly.

There’s no denying that. It’s so obvious—every second he’s cupping up the kids, tickling them, teasing them. He looks so profoundly happy, so perfect. And it suddenly clicks for you.

This could be yours. Forever. He wants it. And now... you’re starting to think you want it, too. Him, this, forever. His kids. Your kids.

“Y/N! Y/N!” one of the younger kids calls, waving you over from across the backyard. “Can you play with us? We need more people to play the monsters. Uncle Hyuckie can’t do it on his own.”

And just like that, you’re being pulled away from the baby fever conversation and coaxed into joining them—not that it took much convincing. Your thoughts were starting to scare you a little. You’d never seriously thought about kids—until now.

Because you’d never seen Hyuck look more attractive than when he was playing dad.

“I can’t believe she’s one already,” Hyuck beams from where he’s stretched out on your bed. He’s been talking about the party nonstop since you got home. “Did you see the little bows in her hair? So fucking cute.”

You glance at him through the vanity mirror where you’re sitting, watching the way his face lights up, animated and so full of joy. There’s a warmth in your eyes, your lips curved into a soft smile as you take him in. He notices, raising an eyebrow.

“What’s that look for?”

You stand and walk over to him, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his lips. His eyebrows knit together, more confused now.

“Y/N, what’s going on?”

You smile, sidestepping his question with one of your own. “Did you have fun today?”

“Yess…?” he replies, but there’s a trace of suspicion in his voice.

“Your family’s really nice.”

“Oh, are they now?” He squints playfully. “I saw you talking to my sister. I hope she wasn’t embarrassing me—she loves doing that.”

You shake your head with a giggle. “She wasn’t.”

“Okay…” he draws out. “Then what was she saying?”

“That you’d be a good dad. That you want to be a dad.”

Hyuck’s eyes widen and you mentally add this moment to the short list of times your boyfriend has been rendered completely speechless—still countable on one hand.

He coughs, his cheeks turning pink. “S-She said that?”

You nod, biting your lip to keep from laughing.

“And…what did you say back?”

You spread his legs out on the bed so you can slide between them, sitting there and looking up at him as he waits, eager for your response. He’s so cute like this—adorable, even—clearly dying to hear what you thought.

“I didn’t respond,” you admit honestly.

You catch the flicker of hurt in his eyes, but he covers it with a laugh—though it’s not genuine. You can tell he’s trying to brush it off, trying to pretend that he’d be okay with the possibility that you might not want that kind of future with him.

“She shouldn’t have said that,” he mumbles, embarrassed. “I used to talk about it a lot as a kid. I don’t really think like that now. I can’t, you know… because of my job.”

“So you don’t want kids because of your job?” You ask. The tone in your voice takes him by surprise because now you’re the one sounding hurt.

“Baby... is this a trick question?” He laughs nervously.

You shake your head, crossing your arms across your chest. “No Hyuck. But I want you to answer it truthfully.”

He shrugs, looking unsure. “I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it.”

“You’re lying.”

He lets out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Baby, I don’t know what you want me to say—”

“The truth,” you insist.

He pauses, his gaze softening. “I love you, Y/N. You said kids weren’t really part of your plan, and that’s okay,” he begins, his voice steady but sincere. “And yeah, maybe I always kind of thought kids would be in mine, but then I met you. And you became my plan.”

You grab a hold of his hand and squeeze. It draws a genuine smile from him before he speaks again.

“I know we’ve never talked about it since. But I’m fine with anything—as long as it’s with you.”

You smile, his comment pulling at your heartstrings because you feel the exact same way.

“Those kids absolutely adore you, Hyuck,” you say and he gives a half smile.

“Well, I am their favourite Uncle.”

You trail a soft finger up and down the naked skin of his arm. His eyes follow your touch and that furrowed expression is on his face again.

“Y/N what’s going on with you? You’re confusing me—”

“You know—” you cut him off. “I think you’d be a great dad.”

He stares at you, properly taking you in. He’s never seen this side of you before, and you’ve never given him a compliment quite like that before. The thought of you being into the idea of him as a dad… well, he didn’t expect it to turn him on this much. Maybe it’s the way your fingers brush his arm? Yeah no, it’s not.

“Today made me realise something,” you say, shifting to straddle his hips, your arms wrapping around his neck now. He raises a curious brow, waiting. “You look so hot with kids. The thought of you being a dad is so fucking hot, Hyuck.”

Hyuck smiles at the confession, and his hands move to grip your ass as he ground your hips forward on himself. You let out a small gasp of surprise as you feel him.

“Please don’t joke like that, Y/N,” he whines, eyes squeezing shut. “Because I’ve been thinking about you being the mother of my kids since the day I met you.”

You giggle, biting your lip to stifle the soft moans escaping you as he grinds you slowly against his growing bulge.

“Well, why don’t you do something about it then,” you tease breathlessly, feeling the hardness of him through his sweatpants.

Hyuck’s mouth parts, caught somewhere between awe and shock, but before he can question how serious you are, your lips capture his, and your tongue is slipping inside his mouth to deepen the kiss.

The groan you both share is synchronised, and it’s all the encouragement he needs to flip you over, hovering above you with a renewed sense of urgency to make promise of your teasing.

His fingers hook into your panties, sliding them off as you shift upward against your pillows, tossing your nightgown aside. Hyuck strips out of his own clothes, desperate to press his bare skin against yours, his need overwhelming any sense of patience.

He kisses you back roughly, passionately. Fuelled by your impossible hotness and readiness to be fucked—fucked by him. Your tongue dips deeper and deeper into his mouth, never satisfied, craving more of him. You cling to him, your hands and legs moving over his skin, desperate to feel every inch. Your hips roll up, slickness coating his shaft, causing a rippling gasp to leave his mouth.

Hyuck pulls back with dark eyes. You—his girl—naked and desperate under him, begging him to do something about his baby fever—your baby fever. It’s the hottest shit he’s ever seen. His new favourite thing. His obsession. He loves seeing you like this, he decides—so willing, so desperate for him, for his cock. Needing him to bring you the pleasure only he can give. And he’ll make sure you remember that once you're carrying his child.

The image floods his mind—your stomach growing, swelling with his baby, the glow in your smile as you hold his child. A family, all with him. Only him. Because you want his kids.

The last thought pushes him over the edge, and with a low growl, he bites down on your neck, lips and teeth claiming your skin. He wants you marked by him—like always—but this time it’s different. It’s possessive. Primal. Feral. His saliva wet on your neck, dark bruises blooming over your breasts, his fingers burning prints into your hips, and his seed buried deep inside your soaking wet cunt.

His cock jumps when you roll your hips again, your whimpers causing him to groan and eyes roll back. You sound so desperate. Desperate to make him your forever.

“Hyuck—” you sob as his teeth graze your nipple, sending it hardening under his touch. “Please, I need to feel you.”

His eyes sparkle with lust as he drapes your legs over his waist and leans down, capturing your mouth in a long, needy kiss. He aligns himself with your slick pussy, your fingers clawing at his back as he slowly eases into you. He fills you completely, lifting your hips to bury himself deeper.

“So fucking pretty like this,” he mumbles, pulling away to admire the way you take his thick cock. “Taking me so well, always so good for me, aren’t you, baby?”

You moan as his cock hits every spot inside you—so deep, so hard, so good. Each thrust drags along your walls in a way that feels divine.

“Can’t wait until you’re mine, so full of me,” he whispers, kissing your neck. You whimper, your walls clenching at his words, urging him to quicken his pace. “Do you want that, baby? Want my cum inside this pretty pussy?”

“Yes—fuck yes—please.”

“Say it for me,” he requests softly, a gentle yet desperate edge in his voice. “Please tell me.”

“I want to be yours; make me yours,” you breathe out.

Hyuck's gaze drops to your lips, entranced by the words spilling from them. He thrusts harder, your nails digging into his skin as you pull him closer. Your cunt swallows his cock whole, turning his thrusts sloppy, and he groans.

You’re practically sobbing with how fast he’s driving into you, so close to seeing stars.

“You’re so good at taking me,” he praises, his breath ragged. “Gonna make me fill you.”

You squeeze around him, and the thought of cumming inside you sends a shiver through his thighs, making his breathing stutter.

“Yes! Fuck, please keep going,” You pant.

“Want you so full of me that it’s dripping down your leg. And then I’ll push it back in when I fuck you again.”

Your breaths grow louder and quicker, matching his as you both teeter on the edge. He kisses you deeply, your mouths suffocating each other as you grip his soft brown hair. His fingers dig into your hips, holding you tight.

“Hyuck—I’m gonna cum.”

“So fucking good, baby,” he moans in awe. “I’m going to fill you with my cum. I want you overflowing with my seed—fuck!” He grunts hoarsely, his body tightening with tension.

Your walls shatter around him, tightening and fluttering on his cock as you cum. Hyuck holds you close, so intimately, holding himself deep inside you as he feels the first spurts of his cum shooting from his cock.

He doesn’t stop, his hips still moving gently, making sure you take everything, softening each thrust with tender kisses along your bare shoulders. You sigh dreamily, fingers threading through his hair, and he smiles, still half-hard inside you. You’re exhausted, and the sight of your sleepy expression makes his heart twist. Leaning down, he presses a soft kiss to your lips, and for a moment, you stay like that—so close, so intimate.

But as the post-orgasm bliss begins to fade, a flicker of panic flashes in his eyes.

“Fuck—” he mutters, pulling himself off of you quickly. There’s a gnawing feeling in his chest, a sudden guilt. “Y/N, I’m really sorry, I got caught up in the moment. Do you want me to run to the store—”

“No.” You shake your head and grab his arm, keeping him close. “I don’t want you to. If that’s okay…”

His eyes darken with lust before a slow smile spreads across his face.

“Y-yeah… that’s more than okay with me,” he says, nodding eagerly.

“Who knows?” You shrug with a teasing grin. “I might not even get pregnant this time.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “This time?”

You nod confidently. “Yeah, this time. Because we’re going to keep doing this until I am pregnant, Hyuck.”

His grin widens as he climbs back into bed, pulling you into his arms.

“I never thought I’d hear you say that, especially not when I woke up this morning,” he laughs, pressing soft kisses along your neck.

You giggle, leaning into his touch. “What can I say? Seeing you in dad mode made me so fucking horny.”

#nct smut #haechan smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #nct x reader #nct 127 x reader #haechan x reader #nct dream x reader #nct hard hours #kpop smut #kpop x reader #nct oneshot #nct scenarios

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rafecameronssl4t · 3 months ago

Text

Like her mama || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: inspired by this TikTok sound

Warnings: none!! just fluff :)

Word count: 1,416

MASTERLIST (dad!rafe au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

As you turn from the sink, water dripping from the freshly washed fruit in your strainer, Topper’s voice interrupts your thoughts. "Need some help with that?" he asks, his tone friendly and familiar. You glance over your shoulder, offering him a warm smile.

"I'm all good, thanks, Top," you reply, your eyes twinkling with gratitude. He nods and takes a seat on the nearby stool, settling in comfortably. Your attention shifts to the pool outside, where Rafe, Mabel, and Kelce are enjoying the morning sun.

"Everything alright out there?" you ask, your curiosity genuine as you look to Topper for reassurance. He glances outside, a slight smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, they’re all good. The water’s really nice," he says with a chuckle.

You turn back toward the pool just in time to see Rafe holding Mabel in his arms, her tiny pink bucket hat slightly askew, too big for her small head. You wave, a soft giggle escaping your lips when Rafe lifts Mabel’s hand to mimic your wave, though you’re certain she can’t actually see you.

Topper can’t help but chuckle along with you. "Can’t believe she’ll be seven months next week," he remarks, his tone tinged with amazement. You let out a small sigh as you begin slicing the oranges, arranging them neatly on a platter. "Don’t remind me," you reply with a soft laugh. "She’s growing up so fast."

The two of you continue chatting, the conversation flowing easily until Rafe strolls into the kitchen. His hair is damp, the blonde strands clinging to his forehead, and tiny droplets of water trail down his chest and stomach, glistening in the soft light.

"Hi, baby," he greets you, leaning in to press a tender kiss to your cheek. "Hi," you respond, your smile widening at his touch. Rafe’s eyes drift down to the platter you’re preparing. "That looks amazing," he comments, quickly snatching a strawberry and popping it into his mouth before you can protest. You shake your head playfully, amused by his antics.

"Is Mabel all right?" you ask, glancing at him as he leans casually against the counter. "Mmhmm," he hums in affirmation, then suggests with a grin, "You should come in the water after this." You chuckle softly. "I will, I will," you promise, as he leans in for another quick kiss before heading back outside.

Topper watches him go, shaking his head with a smirk. "Rafe’s a complete softie now, huh?" he comments, clearly amused by the transformation in his friend. You snort, unable to hold back your laughter. "Maybe for us. But he still loves arguing with his sisters," you say with a fond smile, recalling the endless bickering between Rafe and his siblings.

Topper’s expression brightens with sudden recollection. "Did I end up tell you what happened this morning at the shops?" he asks, piquing your curiosity. "No? What happened?" you ask, looking up at him, eager to hear the story.

Flashback….

“Is she awake?” Rafe asks as he pulls his G-Wagon into a parking spot in front of the store. The engine’s hum fades as he shifts into park, and Kelce leans over to peer into the baby carrier. Mabel, with her big doe eyes, stares back at him, her tiny mouth busy with her pacifier.

“Wide awake,” Kelce reports with a chuckle, meeting her gaze with a grin. The three of them exit the car; Rafe decides against the stroller, opting to scoop Mabel into his arms instead. After all, they were only planning a quick stop. Mabel clings to him, her small hands gripping his shirt as she takes in her surroundings.

As they approach the store, Topper slips his oversized sunglasses onto Mabel’s little face. The glasses are comically large, sliding down her tiny nose, and the sight of it makes both Topper and Kelce snicker. They quickly pull out their phones, snapping a photo of the moment.

Rafe, oblivious to their antics at first, glances over his shoulder when he hears their muffled laughter. “You guys are idiots,” he says, shaking his head, though he can’t suppress the smile that tugs at his lips when he sees Topper’s sunglasses barely hanging on Mabel’s face. As her uncles continue to laugh, Mabel lets out a delighted giggle, her tiny hands reaching up to grasp at the sunglasses.

As they step into the shop, all three boys lift their sunglasses from their noses and perch them on top of their heads. The cool air inside the store is a welcome contrast to the warmth outside. “What are we getting again?” Kelce asks, glancing around as they enter.

Rafe pulls out his phone, scrolling through the list you had sent him. “Y/n gave me a little list,” he replies, quickly scanning the items before reading them aloud. Kelce nods and heads off towards the fruit section, while Rafe, Topper, and Mabel make their way down another aisle to gather the remaining items.

As they pass by the toy section, Rafe can’t resist stopping, his eyes drawn to the colourful display. Mabel’s attention is instantly caught by the toys on the shelves, her small hands reaching out eagerly. “You want that one? What about this too—” Rafe starts, picking up a soft toy, but he’s interrupted by a voice from behind them.

“Hey,” the voice says, drawing their attention. Rafe turns to find a girl, probably around their age or a bit younger, standing a few steps away. Her smile is bright, but there’s something in her eyes that makes Topper instantly wary. He notices the way her gaze lingers on Rafe before shifting to Mabel.

“Oh my goodness, what a cute baby you have!” she exclaims, her voice overly sweet, dripping with an eagerness that Rafe recognises all too well. It’s the tone of someone trying just a bit too hard to make an impression.

Without missing a beat, Rafe shrugs nonchalantly. “Yeah, my wife and I make pretty cute babies, huh?” he responds, his tone cool and dismissive, the question hanging in the air as more rhetorical than anything. He turns his attention back to Mabel, who is now clutching the toy he had picked up, her little fingers wrapped tightly around it. He places it in the shopping cart without sparing the girl another glance.

Topper stifles a grin, barely containing his amusement as they walk away, leaving the girl standing there, her plan clearly foiled. As they continue down the aisle, Rafe mutters under his breath, “The audacity,” his voice laced with mild annoyance, though a small smile still plays on his lips.

Topper bursts into laughter. “You handled that very well, didn’t he, Mabel?” he says, leaning over to tickle Mabel’s tummy. She giggles in response, her tiny hands gripping Rafe’s shirt as she hides her face, her laughter a sweet, infectious sound that makes both men smile even wider.

Rafe glances down at his daughter, his expression softening as he leans in to press a series of tender kisses on the side of her forehead. “Yeah, we don’t need any of that nonsense, do we, baby girl?” he murmurs, his voice overflowing with affection. Mabel giggles softly, her tiny hand reaching up to touch his face, and Rafe smiles, the warmth in his eyes evident as they continue with their shopping.

End of flashback...

A smile tugs at your lips as Topper finishes his story, the amusement clear in your eyes. His recount of Rafe's quick wit and protective nature at the store had you both chuckling. The memory lingers, bringing a soft warmth to your heart as you place the final pieces of fruit on the platter.

Topper grabs the colourful tray, balancing it with ease as he heads outside to join the others by the pool. Outside, Mabel is floating happily in a small inflatable ring, her tiny hands splashing the water as Rafe gently moves her around. His smile is wide, the pure joy on his face unmistakable as he watches her delight.

Your hands reach up to start unbuttoning Rafe's oversized button-up shirt that you had used as cover up over your bikini. You step into the pool, feeling the cool water contrast with the warmth of the day, and tie your hair up into a bun.

Rafe glances up at you, a playful glint in his eyes as you wade towards them. "Look, Mabel, Mumma's here," he says with a grin, his voice soft and affectionate. Hearing his words, Mabel turns her head, her big eyes lighting up at the sight of you. A gummy smile spreads across her face, and you can’t help but giggle at her reaction.

You move closer, lifting her gently from the floatie and pressing a kiss to her cheek. "You having fun, Bels?" you coo softly, spinning her lightly in the water. She babbles in response, her excitement clear as her little legs kick with glee. Rafe watches with a smile tugging at his lips, his gaze shifting between you and Mabel.

"I just realised you two are matching," he comments, noting your pink bikini and Mabel’s pink bucket hat that’s just a little too big for her. A playful grin spreads across your face. "I planned it," you tease, giving him a wink. Rafe chuckles, moving closer to wrap an arm around your waist and pulling both you and Mabel into a warm embrace.

He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead before leaning down to tickle Mabel’s tummy. Her infectious giggles echo around the pool, her little hands splashing the water playfully. You and Rafe laugh along with her, the happiness of the moment filling the air.

As you hold Mabel close, feeling the warmth of her tiny body against you, you glance up at Rafe, a soft smile playing on your lips. "We made a pretty cute baby, huh?" you say, your voice filled with pride and affection, echoing the words he had casually tossed out at the shops earlier.

Rafe’s eyes light up with recognition, a smirk forming as he remembers the moment. "Yeah, we sure did. The cutest baby" he agrees, leaning in to kiss you tenderly.

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ybklix · 5 months ago

Text

𝐬𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦

★ pairing: neighbor!chan x fem!reader

✦summary: You have a new life, in your dream apartment in the big city, your life is quiet, but suddenly your incredibly handsome neighbor across the door, Chan, decides to take you out of your comfort zone, you can't get him out of your head and you really plan to do something about it.

✭ genre - warnings: MDNI 18+, smut, fluff, fingering, masturbation, dry humping, oral sex, unprotected sex, creampie, videotape, cunnilingus, use of nicknames, slight dirty talk, aftercare.

word count: 7.7k

╰ ⋆⭒˚.⋆ masterlist - taglist forms

୧ ‧₊˚request by anon₊ ˚⊹♡

divider by qqmariztwsse

You admired the place, happy, the movers did all their work, now you only had to unpack and arrange your new apartment, you had been dreaming of moving to a bigger and different city for a year now, you talked to your parents and siblings just for emotional support, and there they all were now. Your mother, your sister and brother, who were going to spend the first night with you.

The four of them decided to walk around the city for a while, eating and enjoying all the scenery and endless places you could just walk and walk to. You arrived late and exhausted to your new apartment, where only your sister wanted to stay one more night, your mother and brother had to go back to your hometown, where they all still lived, where you previously lived already alone as well.

“I'm going to be fine” you said to your mother as you felt her hug you tighter as you said goodbye, her big breasts crushing yours.

“Oh I know dear but now I have to catch a flight to see you, I'm not used to it” your mother said, in a high pitched tone as she pulled away from you.

No matter what, you would always be her baby, you were the youngest among your siblings, of which you had a very cute and close relationship with. You were always a bit overprotected being the youngest, you openly talk about things that cause you anxiety and you are a bit sensitive although you never express it as such, you like to make jokes and be sarcastic about it, you have a personality… quiet and quite relatable to others, that's why you create content videos on Youtube, mainly there you started, but you are in all your social media and you are something like a microcelebrity. That's why you could afford to live in the city of your dreams, in the apartment of your dreams and you were grateful.

Your mother and brother left, boarding that plane and you and your sister returned to your apartment where she kindly helped you unpack.

“I'll go check to see if I have my own mail space yet” you notified your sister, to which she shouted from afar okaaay.

And you walked out of your apartment, where as you crossed the hallway to the front, you found a male silhouette about to enter his apartment, for some reason you stopped a little to see him, wearing a suit with his jacket in his hand and his white button up shirt rolled up in his strong arms, he was handsome, you thought. He turned to see you too, smiled at you realizing you were his new neighbor and whispered kindly:

“Hi.”

His voice was thick and attractive, his appearance masculine, you suddenly felt in some type of way….

“Hi” you replied kindly smiling.

And before he could say anything else, you hurried your step to the end of the corridor, leaving. You didn't know how to react, you didn't expect to find a handsome man in front of your door while you were messily unpacking your entire apartment. He let out a chuckle when he saw your reaction but you didn't hear it.

[…]

“Agh, Y/N, I forgot my cell phone on the counter,” your sister said, already in the hallway, with her things ready to grab the cab downstairs to accompany her to the airport.

You rolled your eyes, looking for her phone but it wasn't where she had indicated, you got frustrated, the cab was waiting for you, and angrily said to her,

“Where is it? It's not here!”

But you received no answer, your sister ran into your neighbor across the hall, who was about to go out to do some shopping, she instantly smiled at him seeing that he was also handsome and your neighbor was as enchanted with your sister as he was with you. You on the other hand went to the bathroom, where your sister had previously been, finding her phone.

“We have to go now…” you said, locking your apartment and you were perplexed to see your handsome neighbor again.

He smiled downward at you, pressing his lips together, he had to admit that you were both pretty, but there was something about you that caught his attention more.

“He tells me you haven't introduced yourself” your sister spoke, looking down at the broad shouldered build of your neighbor and then back up at you.

“Well, I also just arrived recently for work. I'm Bang Chan, your neighbor” he let out a nervous chuckle, causing you to shiver, a good shiver.

You stared at him and greeted him with waving your hand, telling him your name followed by, nice to meet you.

“I think, you were about to leave so, I see you around” he said again.

You nodded and left with your sister, who was dying to talk and didn't until you got in the cab.

“Oh my god, he's really hot, you should go after him, if he doesn't have a girlfriend of course” your sister commented animatedly.

“Stop saying bullshit please” you replied, unwilling to continue the conversation.

The point was… you had never dated before, you were too picky and your love life was non-existent, but you liked being that way, staying at home with your cats, you even made money from complaining about how there is no one to get your attention, expressing it in your videos where thousands of girls around the world found you so real for speaking your truth. You just made your silly little vlog videos or anything creative you could think of, at the moment you were working on filming your move.

Your sister left, you stayed around the city until it got dark and you returned to your new home, you had to feed your cats and clean their litter, but to your surprise, you once again found Chan taking the elevator at the same time. He smiled tenderly at you as you both were about to press the button, he let you do it and you waited, until you both got in alone.

“I guess we're always going to bump into each other now” he said again with his typical soft chuckle.

“Yeah, well, same building, same floor” you said nervously, really with zero idea what to say.

“Did you move into the building or in the city in general?” he asked, so curious to hear from you.

“From the city” you answered, looking straight ahead and only occasionally glancing at him out of the corner of your eye.

The elevator doors opened, he let you out first and you stepped into your hallway.

“Well, if you need someone to show you around the city or help in any address, you know I'm in front of your door” he said, sweetly but something about his voice sounded so inviting, the way he spoke and that the vein in his neck stood out a little.

“Thank you” you told him shyly and walked into your apartment.

You couldn't help but smile… after so long you thought to yourself if, a crush, a fling of whatever with your hot neighbor would be worth it.

[…]

All the rest of the night you unpacked everything, almost finishing your apartment, you were tired but it was a nice spring day that you didn't decide to waste, so you went out to walk for a while, feel the sun on your skin, and feel again the minimal realization that there is a civilization outside, since last night you haven't stopped thinking about Chan, you even imagined how his apartment would be decorated by the way he was dressed, simple and in black. You imagined so many things, even his age, what zodiac sign he might be, everything. You hadn't felt this way about someone in a long time.

And, still in his apartment, Chan's younger sister put him in charge of taking care of the family dog, since no one would be home and she took advantage of the fact that her brother would be staying in the city for his job, so she left her with him. Chan greeted and petted the dog with affection and wanted to take her for a walk.

You arrived at the park near the block from the building and craved an ice cream, you felt the presence of more people but didn't take any notice, until when you asked, a familiar voice appeared behind you, sounding so sonorous that it rumbled your insides.

“Make it two, please” said that voice, you turned to see him.

It was Chan, you smiled at him, his skin glowed brighter as he wore all black and you noticed he had a cute dog on a leash, you honestly thought you saw it coming, he looked like an energetic guy who liked dogs more, you enjoyed the company of cats more, but you forgave him anything.

You quickly confirmed to the guy that it would be two ice creams so that he would take Chan's order as well. And, as he handed over the ice creams, he hurried to say.

“Can you hold them please, I'll pay” he said quickly, extending the money to the employee.

You couldn't even deny it when the clerk was already ready to give him the change when Chan said again, “Leave it like that, thank you.”

You walked a few steps from the ice cream cart, narrowing your eyes because you were bothered by the sun, still watching him, licked from your ice cream before it melted and said in a happy tone, “Thank you.”

“Oh it's nothing, it's just ice cream.”

“We meet again” you repeated amused, this time more relaxed and less shy.

“Yeah, well, same park near the building” he said, with a smile responding the same way you did last night.

You smiled back at him as you continued eating from your ice cream, as sweet, soft and refreshing as Chan's unexpected arrival, he looked like a cute guy.

“You have a dog?” you said to him, this time cooperating so that he picked up on the signals that you wanted to talk to him.

He looked at Berry, his little dog.

“Ahh yes, she's Berry, she's family, she doesn't live in my apartment but my sister let me borrow her to take care of her today.”

Uh, he has a sister, must be nice guy, you thought.

“I have two cats” you blurted out suddenly, blushing as you felt his gaze after he's seen the dog, “Their names are Edward and Lorelai. Berry is, a very cute dog” you said again, nervous.

You bent down to stroke his soft dog's fur with your free hand and stood up again.

Chan laughed, watching you, finding you incredibly adorable and began to walk slowly as you followed, “Edward and Lorelai?” asked Chan with a smile at hearing such names for cats.

“For Edward Cullen from Twilight and Lorelai Gilmore from The Gilmore Girls” you added, quickly and obviously, but you were a little shaken, you hadn't had an encounter with a cute boy in years.

Chan looked at you with admiration and amusement. You felt like you were in a movie walking with the attractive man in the park who bought you ice cream. Chan didn't take his eyes off you and without stopping laughing, and to have all those references, he thought you must have been young, you looked young, but living on your own in the city? Chan didn't know what it was exactly but he wanted to know more about you, he liked you since he first saw you, you looked just like today, a sunny, but not oppressive sun, spring day, with the green trees and the birds singing.

“I like cats too,” he replied, “But because of my work I travel a lot and it's hard for me to leave them home alone.”

“What do you do for a living…?” you asked without trying to be so obvious as you sat down on an available bench.

“I'm a stylist and creative director” he replied.

At this point you were so nervous you were about to finish your ice cream. You decided to play with him a little, to lighten the mood.

“Stylist in that outfit?” you joked.

Chan laughed genuinely at your comment, he looked and dressed so normal, all in black with a cap and sneakers and called it a day. You could notice his curls under his cap.

“You might be surprised how well I dress people.”

“Mmm who have you dressed?” you asked amused only to continue the conversation.

“It's usually celebrities, and occasionally rich people, I've worked for Jungkook, T-…”

You gasped in surprise which stopped Chan in his tracks.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to react like that, it's just, I don't believe you, you're fucking with me, right?”

Chan raised an eyebrow at your comment in such confidence, without wiping off his smile, his cheeks hurt from being with you so much.

“Are you a fan of his?”

“Oh no, just, everyone knows how great he is.”

“Well it's true...” he answered and you saw him go to his cell phone deftly looking for something.

He handed it to you, pictures of him sizing up the celebrity he had just mentioned and putting a jacket over him as proof, you opened your mouths in surprise that you are meeting a man who has direct contact with celebrities. You handed him back his phone.

“I work for specific brands or clients, that's why I travel, I work for Jennie Kim, Troye Sivan, that kid that's everywhere mmm, Olivia Rodrigo, Timothe Ch…”

Your heart stopped and your smile faded for a moment as he called Olivia Rodrigo a kid, you were pretty sure you were pretty close to her age… you wondered how old he could be. You also thought that looking like that, there was no way he wasn't dating a celebrity.

“Okay I got it, now you're just bragging” you replied amused to which he loved the way you teased him, “I think it's great” you said happily, “And also as a creative director?”

“Yes, I direct videos, I give concepts to artists, I usually work a lot for the K-pop world, that's why I'm hardly ever home.”

You looked at him closely, you were excited to meet an art-oriented person who was expert and passionate about what he does, someone intellectual who stimulated your inner self.

“If you dressed Jungkook, what the hell are you doing living in that apartment? I assume you can get something better” you joked again never to end the conversation.

You had already finished your ice cream and your hands were restless not knowing where to settle. Chan laughed again, showing his peculiar dimples, he kept laughing with you close by.

“I've lived in the building for a while now, it's cozy and a very nice place, isn't it?”

You nodded, “It's a nice place…”

“Besides…” he began to say apologetically, tilting his head a little and showing a full smile “it's a magical place full of surprises, just like your new arrival.”

You looked into his eyes and admired every part of him, unable to think that he had said your arrival was a magical surprise. Chan had already finished his ice cream, but he thought there was nothing sweeter that left his mouth like meeting you on a nice sunny day.

“So… you'll be staying here in the city?” you added curiously, since he mentioned he was hardly home, worrying you.

“Yes, at the moment I'm here working from home, I just came back from a business trip; but as soon as my client calls me, I have to go wherever they are” you saw him a little disappointed, promptly thinking that he constantly has to leave, until he spoke bringing you out of your trance, “And you… what do you do for a living?” he asked softly and incredibly attentive to what you had to say.

Your smile faded a little… it wasn't something you said out loud, you felt a little embarrassed but more so when he had a cool job and you… made videos for the internet.

“I make videos…” you said unsurely.

He raised his eyebrow, scared deep down that they weren't adult types of videos, he had nothing against it, but as someone as pretty and young as you, he couldn't help but feel disappointed if that's what it is, since he currently found himself so many girls making money from it.

“You edit videos?” he asked, somewhat alerted.

“Yes that too, well… I'm a YouTuber, not something I'd say proudly after hearing your amazing work history, but I also paint and sell my paintings and, I'm simply inclined to art, but for a living, videos on the internet. I'm also inclined to acting, I currently take online classes but since I'm in the city I really want to try my hand at an academy; you know everyone who thinks they're celebrities these days wants to put out music but I seriously think it's not my forte, I prefer something else” you blurted out suddenly, nervously trying to divert him from the main topic.

Chan laughed tenderly as he carried Berry to put her in the middle of you. He thought you were cute the way you wanted to excuse yourself, and almost sighed in relief that you hadn't been what he maliciously thought.

“That's very good, seriously, you can tell me you're a tiktoker and I'll understand, they make a lot of money nowadays” Chan joked.

You laughed, blushing that maybe it wasn't the kind of woman he was looking for, putting little part of her life on the internet. But you had him completely captivated, he couldn't deny it.

“So what do you do?” he said, you raised your eyebrows, “What do you tape?”

“Mmm little vlogs, things I come up with…”

“And what do you paint?” you looked at him surprised, that among your meaningless chatter, he did pay attention to you.

“Little flower paintings, I don't know, cute things” you laughed.

Cute things like you, wanted to say Chan out loud.

“And how can I find you?”

You widened your eyes in panic, but still told him sweetly, “Literally my name, just like that, I hope I show up.”

Chan stared at you for a while, so happy to have some time to relax.

“I'd love to direct a video, give you some ideas” Chan spoke slowly and seductively, not knowing what he was saying clearly, he just knew he was suddenly lost on you.

“I'd love to share your ideas…” you replied in the same way.

“I'd also love for us to go somewhere else but… I'm taking care of Berry” he mentioned, caressing her, you saw his big, masculine hands, surprising you a little, “Would you like to… have dinner at my place?”

You wanted to open your mouth in surprise, for the first time you would be going alone to a man's apartment, but you just nodded softly.

“You cook?” you asked, Chan nodded, “I also love to cook and bake” you said proudly.

He looked at you tenderly.

[…]

The evening progressed with more talk with Chan, getting to know him more and more, and of a delicious dinner he prepared. You were delighted, you were supposed to start shooting more content today but there was nothing better than spending the night in his apartment and, his decor was just as you imagined it, neutral colors, modern design and all tidy, the place smelled good, he smelled good, everything around him looked like a dream.

He came to drop you off at your door, balancing on your heels on the door frame, so close to him and admiring every part of his face, his cute little eyes, his full lips, you felt like you were in your own little rom-com. Chan leaned against your door frame, unwilling to let you go.

“Do you… want to see Edward and Lorelai?” you said nervously to which he nodded softly with a smile.

Chan watched you, you looked so cute to him that he wanted to squeeze your cheeks and shower you with kisses, but he just said yes to every little thing you said.

Your cats were in your cat tree, you let Chan pass by, who slyly watched your whole apartment.

“Orange one is Edward.”

Chan approached your cats, you had a cute Halloween combination, orange and black, who antipathetic and yet alert let themselves be petted, after he spoke to them in a high pitched tone, with tenderness. He came up to you.

“They're very cute, just like you” he said and your cheeks grew warm, you blushed so often with him, you hated it when your body reacted like that, “Do you mind if… tomorrow we go to the park on a picnic or something?”

You frowned, hard to believe what he was saying but you agreed.

“Goodnight, Chan” you said goodbye to him.

Within half an hour Chan had started following you on Instagram where to your surprise you found that he had more than twice as many followers as you and his feed was as sleek and tidy as he was, filled with celebrities he worked for and the occasional photo of him; he for his part was delighted with the cute and cuddly side you showed your life on social media and, you also noticed that he had bought the 10 paintings you had for sale on your website.

[…]

“You bought all my paintings” was the first thing you said to him when you saw him.

Chan's smile got bigger, “I had to, they were really good, you can help me put them in my apartment.”

You looked at him, not sure what he was up to but you just knew you were quickly falling for him.

You both went to the park.

“All right, you paint Berry and I'll paint… you have to choose between Edward or Lorelai to paint them” Chan spoke.

You were both on your date, on a picnic he planned, you had had this kind of outing with your girlfriends but not with a boy, this was definitely your kind of date. You looked at Chan, who was still looking all manly with his strong legs showing in his shorts despite doing soft and sweet activities.

You sighed in surprise, “You can't make me choose between two of my children.”

Chan laughed, “Okay, I'll paint them both and then we'll show each other our paintings at the same time.”

You nodded, “Show me a picture of Berry.”

“And you of your cats.”

Amid laughter, chatter and complicit glances, you finished your works, showing them. Chan's painting was good, not the best, they were a little crooked, but it was nice and you appreciated it and yours, truly and effortlessly you had excelled, Chan looked at you with admiration as he praised your work, no doubt you were someone worth getting to know more.

You spent the day together, he walked you around the city and as you were united walking side by side in your wide hallway of the building, he said to you:

“What's a movie that you can watch over and over again without getting tired and... would you like to see it in my apartment?”

The next thing you knew you were having your first movie night date with a man, since he wasn't a boy. Slowly you brought your bodies together and shortly after the middle of the movie you couldn't help but admire him a little, his pronounced side in profile, his strong arms; you wondered if you should kiss him or would you look like an easy girl, you had just met him but you weren't much of a fan of the slow burn, at least not in real life, that could stay on TV and books, you wanted Chan now.

Chan licked his lips and noticed that you didn't stop looking at him and slowly turned to see you, you abruptly averted your gaze in embarrassment. Chan sighed and moved closer to you, making you more tense, not because it made you uncomfortable, but because you really liked him and suddenly your body was acting weird. You stopped paying attention to the movie and only thought about the time and the anxiety that was slowly consuming you, you wanted to kiss him but you didn't know how to get closer, you wanted to taste his lips to check your fantasies that he really had it all and kissed well.

Chan noticed it instantly, your nervous body, your light sighs, he was going to take a chance and if you rejected him, at least it would be worth it.

He came close to your ear and his plan wasn't to sound this seductive, he still said it in that tone, “It's obvious you're not paying attention to the movie, why don't you better come and pay attention to me.”

You almost moaned loudly at what he said, it was so cringe, it was so fucking sexy it worked for you, coming from him everything worked.

You turned to look at him.

“Do you want me to kiss you?” he asked.

You nodded without measuring anything that was happening, you just watched his slightly illuminated face for the TV light and move closer to yours and suddenly you met his lips, Chan started to move them over yours, you tasted the softness and how smoothly his fleshy lips were, then slowly he moved closer to you, when you unintentionally held onto his shirt, he started to kiss you deeper, his prominent nose colliding with your face, both breathless but unable to stop, addicted to the feel of each other until you broke apart.

“Come here” Chan whispered to you taking you by the waist and inviting you to sit on him for which you complied.

You let yourself fall into his lap with your body facing him, your legs beside his thighs, as you wrapped around his neck, ready to return to your sizzling make out session. This time Chan kissed you more desperately and excitedly, groping your whole body and tasting your tongue, at this point you were already so wet, his big hand stroking your body and the exquisite sounds of his lips colliding and his altered breathing made you so hot.

And that's when, as you let your body fall slightly, you felt his notorious, throbbing erection in your center, you were shocked, you didn't know whether to stop or continue but you didn't want to stop kissing him and you were getting more and more turned on. You separated, you saw his swollen, reddish lips and an expression on his face that you had never seen before, it was his usual look of tenderness combined with dark desire. Chan couldn't take it anymore and in a thick voice whispered:

“Should we continue this… or do you want to stop?”

You bit your lip, if you stopped there was nothing good in return, just you going to your apartment embarrassed and with your panties wet, yet you were so curious about what might happen if you didn't stop. You nodded and he looked at you confused.

“We should… continue” you sighed.

Chan smiled and kissed you again, running his hands down your back, this time under your blouse, unhooking your bra. You pulled away from him a little terrified and excited and let him remove your clothes, he brushed his lips down your neck until he reached your breasts where he sucked them hard, causing you to moan, but Chan wanted to make you feel so good that he was only going to focus on you and your pretty moans, so he had to take good care and treat your bottom area very well.

He pulled away from you and stared at you as he unbuttoned your shorts and then slid his big hand down and started stroking your clit over your panties with his long fingers. You gasped again, ecstatic and happy to be attended. You kissed again as between sighs you felt the satisfaction of his fingers rubbing your spot, you were enjoying it but it only made you wetter and needier and that Chan saw it reflected in your awkward but passionate kisses and your constant moans.

“C'mon sweetie, take off his shorts so I can touch you better” he whispered to you, “Gonna make you cum.”

With your breath hitching and heart racing, you heeded him, quickly standing up and removing your tiny shorts to sit on his lap again, this time your wet center feeling the stiffness of his cock. Chan gasped, you raised your ass a little and he wrapped his arm around your ass, sliding your folds aside with his hands and seeking your entrance, pulling the fabric of your panties aside, he stroked you a little, sliding all your wetness down your hole and inserted two of his slick, long fingers into your soft walls. You gasped, it felt so good to have your pussy filled.

“Oh, that's it dear, you feel so good, do you like it?” groaned Chan sweetly to you in a whisper which you whimpered in response.

Chan started to ram you with his fingers making you let out soft little whimpers, it felt so good, you could hear the wetness of your pussy being fucked, you were a little embarrassed to be so wet but you couldn't control it, your body was going crazy for Chan, as he enjoyed your sweet sounds coming out of your mouth and how choked his cock was in his denim shorts, he loved feeling the tightness inside you with the wetness of your pussy slipping on his fingers and, in a gasp and shudder, you felt your orgasm filling your body, spilling onto Chan's fingers and dripping onto his clothes.

You were beginning to feel ashamed, when you felt Chan's hands grip your waist tightly and cling to his cock as he bit his lip.

“Oh, you're so fucking sweet, c'mon” he moaned, moving your ass with his grip around his cock, squeezing it.

You turned on again in seconds and you understood everything, the heat of the moment took the best of you and you unbuttoned his shorts, being you now the one who put her hand in his crotch, feeling his wide hard cock over his boxers, you were surprised, you squeezed and caressed, trying to reach his tip but it was a bit difficult to which Chan helped you a bit to pull them down, finally seeing his prominent package and his dripping precum on his clothes.... once again you acted out of desire and lust and pulled down his underwear, revealing his member so highly visually appealing and large, you began to stroke it, and instantly turned to look at Chan, who was panting in pleasure. Once again you were so aroused, you wanted to do so many things but you just limited yourself to positioning his cock between your folds and start rubbing yourself on it, rubbing your soaking wet pussy through the feel of the fabric of your panties, while Chan revelled in the sensation with soft mmm's and you held tightly around his neck, and between kissing, fondling and Chan's stimulation of your breasts with his mouth, tongue and lips, the sizzling act brought you both to orgasm.

Both of your bodies trembled, Chan whimpered an “Oh, fuck” and you felt his throbbing sex and warm cum shoot between your folds.

Both of you had heavy breathing and suddenly you fell to realize what you had done, once again the heat now took over your cheeks and you tried to hide in Chan's neck; he smiled broadly and noticed your reaction.

“It's okay, princess, look at me, hey, it was beautiful, I loved it” he said sweetly, trying to get your attention.

You looked into his eyes in sorrow and he confessed in a whisper close to your lips, “Is it wrong that... I just met you but I feel I like you a lot? I'll take you on every cute date so we can get to know each other better.”

[...]

And so, after that night began a frantic story between you and your neighbor Chan, who was a little older than you and a mature man with his life and goals set, but he loved to do little things with you and help you and then have a fiery scene of making out and touching, you love to caress his hair every time you kissed him and he liked to help you in recording content and he would tell you how he was going to help you to offer you more work with recognized brands and, as days went by there was this afternoon, where he helped you and was there watching you recording, you were a little embarrassed but little by little you got used to it, and for some reason, your outfit consisted of a very short white plaid skirt, which drove Chan crazy in seconds.

He watched you attentively, sitting on your couch watching every little shot you made with your phone, you were completely dressed up while Chan was comfortable in his sportswear and black sleeveless shirt attached to his worked and muscular body, he was crazy about your short skirt revealing a little bit of your ass and how pretty you looked, while you were messed up seeing his biceps and marked pecs.

You finished recording your silly video, feeling embarrassed having Chan's heavy gaze on you the whole time as he smiled downwards at you and hugged one of your couch cushions, finally he stood up and walked over to you, unable to control his urges and placed his hands on your waist exposed by your short top. You raised your gaze slightly and smiled at him, he wordlessly moved closer to you to kiss you which you accepted by wrapping your arms around his neck.

“That little skirt is kind of dangerous, I feel lucky to see it on you before all your followers” Chan whispered to you, his hands moving down to your butt and squeezing it.

You were surprised and looked at him mischievously, and he surprised you again as he carried you by grabbing your ass and kissed you again, taking you a few steps to your room; for some reason you were aroused, and it was that particularly his strong arms with visible veins were doing in your arousal something, you hadn't had something sexual since that night in his apartment, you thought maybe it was time for something more.

Chan sat on your bed, leaving you on top of him, this time you kissed more passionately and desperately, both in the same synchrony and idea of what was about to happen, completely devoted to each other. And suddenly, you had the idea of tasting his cock. You smiled and lowered your kisses down to his neck, slowly you rolled off his lap and got on your knees between his legs, Chan licked his lips as he understood immediately and let you play with him a little as you slowly removed his shorts; Chan reflexively reached out his hand and it bumped into your camera on your bed, and a dirty idea occurred to him.

Chan grabbed your camera, turned it on and prepared to record, recording you making eye contact and finding it so fucking hot to him holding a camera at such a promising angle.

“Oh yeah, c'mon babygirl, suck my cock, is this your favorite YouTuber? She's a little fucking whore, look at…. ahh” Chan started to say but was cut off as he finally felt your mouth on his glans, “Mmm, she's taking my cock so well.”

You smiled with his cock in your mouth and began to suck him off, sucking his length to feel your tongue and cheeks, making him feel so good that he even gasped pitilessly.

You loved the feel of him, his big cock in your mouth while your hands caressed the rest of his member and from time to time you played with his balls, making Chan whimper and shudder, who at this point downplayed the camera in his hand and enjoyed live and direct the image of you on his cock, Chan stroked your hair, the muscles of his thighs trembled and in a sizzling whimper, Chan cum in your mouth.

You smiled happily, licking the cum from his length and swallowing every liquid deposited in you. Chan stroked your cheek for a few moments and gently motioned for you to stand up, then gently laid you down on the bed.

Once again, Chan held the camera and recorded the filthy process of lifting your skirt and removing your wet panties, finally getting a full shot of your soaking wet, throbbing pussy.

“Fuck” cursed Chan softly and aroused.

You looked so exquisite to him that he thought the camera didn't do you justice, you were a thousand times better in person. You watched him with desire and pleading eyes, inwardly begging to feel his big cock fill you with more.

“Take off your shirt” you whined, you wanted to see his abs.

Chan smiled arrogantly, he dropped the camera drop on your bed and obeyed your command, you bit your lip, you wanted him in missionary to have him close and touch his marked abs. Now, you were so needy. He took your camera again, with one hand he put your knees together and lifted them higher in the air, he stopped holding your legs and you left them like that, watching his dirty act of filming your pussy, Chan took his big cock and rubbed it on your pussy, making you gasp.

“What a fucking dirty slut, so ready to get fuck, isn't this y/n, your favorite little internet person, oh she's so fucking needy for my cock, aren't you, beautiful?”

You gasped as you felt his cock hit your vulva and then rub it through your folds and labia. Chan spread your legs again and finally entered you slowly and, capturing every scene of your tight hole stretching to make way for his cock.

You whimpered, slightly trembling and trying to adjust to his size, Chan sighed excitedly finally at the feel of you inside and began to fuck you slowly and recording a couple of moments, then throwing the camera back onto your bed and pulling his body closer to you, where he sweetly gave you kisses around your face as he rammed you moderately, sliding expertly into you.

“Faster, Chan” you begged, to which he smiled, more than happy to follow your commands.

You arched your back as you felt his strong, deep thrusts, filling your entire pussy to the deepest part of you, his tip brushing your cervix without issue due to his size and you felt your body fade beneath his. You entwined your legs around his waist and hugged him as he continued to ram your pussy hard, his warm moans in your ear.

You were so close, you hugged him tighter and your thighs gradually lost strength, trembling and falling into a deep orgasm at the sensation of his cock moving inside you. Chan continued for a while and finally cum inside you, relaxing his exhausted body a little on top of you.

He kissed your cheek sweetly, pulled away from you and, as a final shot, filmed his cock coming out of your hole as he was doing the perfect creampie scene.

Chan threw the camera back and moved closer to your tired body, showering your face with kisses, appreciating that you still had little traces of him around your mouth.

“I loved that, baby, that was so good” he whispered sweetly in your ear, "The little skirts on you drive me crazy."

[…]

The next day you set about starting to edit your videos and found yourself…. with the grotesque and silly footage Chan had made of you having sex, completely worthy of a homemade porn video, morbidly you watched it again, video shots moving, Chan shaking and his heavy breathing in the background, which turned you on a little, his comments in his thick voice, you sucking his cock and then him rubbing it in your pussy, shit, you were so horny, you couldn't help but watch in detail how good his cock looked for the camera, doing it complete justice, you had a very good camera after all.

You sighed totally aroused and almost as if by magic, there was a knock on your door, you paused the video, luckily at a part where Chan put the camera aside and your sheet was recorded. And you ran to your door knowing it was Chan, once you saw him you jumped into his arms, he laughed and returned the unexpected hug.

Chan had brought you flowers, you thanked him genuinely and gave him a kiss on the cheek, he was so sweet, you liked him so much but just now you needed him so much too. You quickly put his flowers in water and in a vase in the center of the counter.

“What were you doing, princess?” he asked you.

You decided to be honest and quick.

“I was editing my videos and came across what you shot yesterday, honestly I'm horny.”

Chan let out a chuckle at your honesty and walked over to you.

“And who am I to say no to you when you're like that?”

You bit your bottom lip as your smile got bigger, once again you kissed.

“Mm, you should watch the video later, you look so fucking good” you whispered to him between the small moments you parted.

“Fuck, I'm dying to see how I fuck you, but it's better to always live it up” he gasped, so needy with his throbbing cock.

You both headed back to your room, where Chan subtly motioned you to sit on your bed and, he with no time to waste, lifted up your little wool pajama top to reveal your breasts and pulled down your tiny shorts you were wearing altogether, he knelt between your legs and began to give hot and loud kisses down your belly all the way down to your mons pubis, he quickly got rid of your panties, and spread your legs to give him a better view of your pussy.

You were so aroused at his slightest movement, Chan smiled at the image of your exposed pussy and murmured, “I'm going to make you feel so good, princess.”

And, for the first time in your encounters, he directed his mouth to your pussy, gently caressing your clit with one finger, making you gasp and shudder at the sensation of his mouth on your cunt.

Chan licked the entire length of your folds, unashamed and totally satisfied with your taste, you were getting wetter and wetter, giving more and more way for Chan to enjoy your soaking wet pussy with delicious slurping sounds, you gasped and let your head fall back, completely yielding and pleased. You looked back at Chan, whose face was buried in your pussy, his big nose bumping against your labia and his tongue licking every taste in you; you bit your lip and stroked his hair, Chan made eye contact with you, he was enjoying it so much that he would end up cumming in his pants without any trouble merely with the feel of your soft wet pussy in his mouth.

With his free hand Chan began to fondle your breasts, completely ecstatic with pleasuring you, giving your sweet whimpers in response, which encouraged him more and more. Chan bit your labia softly, licked and sucked and, withdrew his hand from your breasts, to lean a little and separate your orifice, appreciating how needy it was, to then insert his tongue and feel your insides, you gasped more intensely, relaxing your body completely and, after an exquisite series of movements on your pussy with his mouth, you came to orgasm, panting loudly and seeing stars, Chan had eaten your pussy so fucking well.

Chan was also so close and cursed under his breath as he felt cum in his pants as he savored your sweet, glistening fluid from your orgasm.

He raised his face, and saw you, both of you happy, your chest rising and falling trying to settle down normal, him licking his mouth still with your taste, but Chan's smile was instantly wiped off, he recognized the sound of the door perfectly, his apartment sounded the same, he stood up quickly alerted.

“Did you hear that? Someone came in, are you expecting someone?”

You looked at him confused and instantly remembered, your mother and sister were coming to visit you, you had arranged it days ago on the phone and you had already warned the doorman to always let your mother and sister in up to your apartment. You closed your legs immediately and hurriedly pulled up your panties and shorts, your heart racing. Chan also stood up quickly and headed towards your bathroom as you frantically motioned for him to go in there.

You came out with a smile, brushing your hair a little.

“Heeey” you greeted.

“Where were you?” said your mother going to hug you.

You felt a little dirty, a few minutes ago you had an incredible orgasm leaving a mess. Suddenly your mother heard a noise in the bathroom.

“Is anyone else here?” she asked.

“My… neighbor” you replied to which your sister smiled broadly, “the toilet wasn't working right and he wanted to fix it.”

“Oh, honey, but why him, is he a plumber? Let me see what's wrong with…” mentioned your mother ready to go to the bathroom but noticed your sister's complicit look, “Why are you looking at each other like that…? Is he the boy Kaia told me about?”

“Chan is here?” your sister asked smiling.

“You told mom about him?” was all you could say.

Your sister knew nothing of your encounters, really the last thing she knew about Chan was when he showed up in the hallway. With embarrassed steps, you made your way to the bathroom, opening the door carefully where a shy Chan stepped out, his face and hands clean.

“Is… the bathroom ready?” you asked him, waiting for him to catch on to what he did instantly.

“Ah yes, it was nothing really.”

“Thank you.”

“I'm Bang Chan, nice to meet you” he introduced himself to your mother who smiled at him and received the gesture.

Still your mother was no fool, she knew immediately that the two of you were up to something, or maybe you were in the middle of something. Your embarrassed faces gave both you and Chan away.

“Hi, Chan” greeted Kaia, looking mischievously at him knowing that he was also there with you for something and that the bathroom was just an excuse.

He greeted her shyly and your sister's attention focused on your laptop on the counter, she approached the laptop animatedly,

“Ohhh, you're editing a new video, what's it about?”

You panicked and ran to close your laptop, causing her surprise and confusion, if she pressed play she was about to see the pornographic home video of you and Chan. You almost dry salivated, so terrified.

“It's a very important and secret video” you replied, sketching a smile and looking quickly towards Chan.

It was kind of weird, but you had to explain that you were in a way, dating him.

--------

𐙚TAGLIST: @rylea08 @hann1bee @iovecb97 @armystay89

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sugudoe · 6 months ago

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𓈒ㅤׂㅤ ✎ ° 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑 ! ࣪₊ 𐙚

✶ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: being a kindergarten teacher is something you excel at, you even have two students you treat as if they were your own. not that they mind your endless devotion, much less do their dad, 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨, if you could spare some attention to him as well.

✶ 𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: papamin!!!!!!! honestly i love papamin so much, i wish i could make that man a daddy. while on the topic, nanami is girl dad code, but for the plot he is sukuna’s and yuuji’s dad. also i loved writing sukuna as a baby, he is such a menace, he definitely was that kid who bite everyone. just posting this because i can’t wait till i post the series i’m making, i had to do something before. divider by: @cafekitsune

✶ 𝐬𝐲𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬: pure fluff / ooc!sukuna / reader has no gender / no curse!au / modern!au / mention of death and grief (minor character)

✶ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.7k

Yuuji thinks you are his princess, and you let him play with the wood horses and gallops around your desk, sometimes you even play pretend with him, accepting the roses he plucks from the school’s garden and sharing your sandwiches with him. He loves you very dearly, it’s not a secret he keeps that you are his favorite teacher, but it is yours that he is one of your favorites as well.

Now Sukuna, his twin brother, is a whole story. The two and a half years old siblings can be perceived as the perfect opposites, because Yuuji is adorable and expressive in good ways, and Sukuna tries to bite your ankles whenever you move near him sitting on the floor. His sharp teeth are always on showcase by his little smirk, he is a menace.

You know Sukuna might sometimes dislike you, not because you have done him terrible wrong, au contrarie, you have been a good teacher, a good human! He tries to grab your hair with his tiny fists and you put him in your lap quickly, staring at him with a cute smile, he thinks you are encouraging him to leave you bald but he ends up not caring anymore, and decides to snuggle against you and sleep. Only to wake up later with a bite on your wrist.

It’s love for your profession and for the children that you don’t report any of this to the superiors or his parent, you think hopefully that you can change his ways, make him better. It does work, credits be given, he used to be worse! He used to bite the other students, now his teeth are all over your and, unfortunately, his twin.

It’s something you try your best to control, gods be good, Yuuji only whines before slapping his brother’s head, and then Sukuna cries and comes to you. You open your arms and again, he is biting you.

“Ow, Kuna!” You move his head away from your skin. “What do you eat to have such sharp teeth, hm?”

He doesn’t answer you, his big eyes are filled with tears and he is wiggling towards any skin of yours to sink his canines.

“C’mere.” You grab him and adjust the baby in your hips, before moving towards the box filled with toys and grabbing a plastic one, you take it to the class bathroom and wash it, while Sukuna sits on the balcony, staring at you with his sad puppy eyes. “You are so cute, y’know that, right?” He nods, which takes you by surprise. “You can not keep biting me anymore, Sukuna, you get this?”

As expected, Sukuna doesn’t answer this time. He only gets what he wants.

“But let’s make a deal, you don’t bite me or Yuuji, you bite this whenever you feel like it, hm?”

Sukuna is not supposed to be with pacifiers anymore, something requested by his parent and passed to you through your boss. So it’s a little secret to let him have the blue whale in his mouth, he bites the thing so deeply that by the end of the week, you have to change it for a red rubber duck.

It’s keeps going like this for a couple more days until you notice the progress being made, Sukuna always has the toy by his gripping hands or in his pockets, and whenever he falls to the ground or gets pushed by a classmate, his little eyebrows crunch into an angry face. You think he is going to jump the kid or run at you and be a little vampire, but instead he grabs his toy and starts to violently munch on it.

It’s adorable, it makes you want to eat him.

But you noticed, obviously you did, how Sukuna has anger issues, and being a baby he has no idea how to control the anger but to externalize it with violence, and you gave him a escape plan. Now, he isn’t so angry anymore, sometimes he just squeezes the little toy, he also doesn’t spend his time with only you or his brother, he makes some new friends such as little Uraume, who follows Sukuna around and both keep sharing their lunches.

You do find one more problem arising, anytime Ijichi, who you learn is their butler, comes to pick the boys, Sukuna cries desperate for having to return his toy. You tried to let him have but the man refuses and your superior reprimanded you once, after catching you trying to give it. The next day, you notice quickly that Yuuji and Sukuna both have little red teeth marks on their arms.

You sigh desperate.

After class is over, few days later, Ijichi is late for the pickup, so you sat both Sukuna (sucking his little toy) and Yuuji (talking your ear off) down. They stop what both were doing and stare at you, one with pure sparkling eyes and the other with a raising eyebrow. You laugh at that.

“My darling cherubs, we need to talk.” You sit on the floor. “Kuna, you are not allowed to keep biting your brother, you know that. And you can’t bite him as well, Yuuji. You have to go to your papa, okay?”

The little one nods at you.

“Sukuna, honey, you can’t bring the duck home, we tried. But you can find another one to bite, hm?” He doesn’t answer, of course, he is two years he is not going on a quest for a rubber toy. “I’ll talk to Ijichi-san, for you, okay buddy?”

It takes you by surprise when Sukuna gets up and moves to sit on your lap, snuggling his face to your chest. When your arms go to close, Yuuji follows his twin and sits on you as well.

“Thank you, sensei.” Kuna’s little voice melts your heart even more, you hug them back instantly.

“I’ll do anything for the both of you.”

You don’t notice the presence behind you, or the fact that it’s been there since you sat down, and payed attention to everything you said, but mostly by how Sukuna went for you instantly and thanked you. The little bundle of angriness has his eyes closed, but his brother stares behind your shoulder and gasp, wiggling out of your touch and running towards the door.

“PAPA!” Yuuji screams making your heart jump. You turn back, staring at the scene. A tall blonde man, with formal clothes, kneels to the floor before opening his arms and grabbing Yuuji on his arms, kissing the pink hair of his baby.

You have heard the gossips towards the twins’s father, how exceptionally good looking he is, most charming and polite man anyone has ever seen or meet. And that he is single.

Of course, because of Ijichi being the one to bring and get the boys and the first teacher-parents’s meeting of the year being in just a few weeks, you haven’t met the man yet, but he here is, Nanami Kento, in all his glory.

You get up with Sukuna at the same time Nanami get up with Yuuji, and you notice right away that in his other hand he holds a bouquet of purple tulips.

“Look, Kuna, your papa is here.” You bounce the sleepy head on your lap, he opens his eyes before smiling a bit, and closing it again. “I think he got pretty tired after the playground today.” You laugh quietly before staring at the man, his eyes on his baby, a small smile on his face as well.

“Pleasure to meet you, Y/n-sensei.” It’s the first thing he says to you, his voice shaking your smile for a bit. “I’m sorry about being so late, the driver got busy with some stuff, so I had to come. I got you this, for the inconvenience.” He presents you the flowers, in your mind, he was going on a date, never in millions thoughts you would expect this.

“Oh, oh! Thank you, they are beautiful.” With your spare hand, you grab the flowers and smell them, smiling sweetly.

“I told papa you like those, sensei.” Yuuji says, with his eyes closed and large smile.

“Thank you, Yuuji, my charming knight.” You put the flowers on your desk before giving a pat to his head. “And thank you again, Mr. Nanami.”

“Again, I’m very sorry. But now, I think it’s time we go, right boys? Your sensei deserves to rest after the two of you.” Nanami grabs Sukuna from your arms, the boy open his eyes again for a second before falling into slumber. You help the male grabbing the twins backpacks and both of you move towards the parking lot.

When Nanami puts the babies in their seats, he turns to you grabbing the bags.

“Thank you for being their teacher, is not an easy job, but they both really like you.”

“It’s my pleasure, really. Sukuna and Yuuji make this job really worth it.” You answer sincerely, the door to the car is closed and the boys can’t hear you.

“I heard what you said to them, about the bites. I’ll get the toys for Sukuna, thank you for caring for him.“ Before Nanami gets into his car, he stops and turns back at you. “Would you need a ride? After all we did kept you here for longer than anticipated.”

You stare at the sky, dark clouds already reaching the sunset orange and pink, even the moon hangs more brightly than ever. You are inclined to accept, but you hold yourself.

“I would, any other day, but there is so much I have to do in the classroom and to grade the kid’s exercises, but thank you for the offer, Mr. Nanami.” You both exchange a smile before you wave at the awake Yuuji, staring at you by the window.

The next day and the others after, surprising everyone, Nanami is the one picking his sons up. His back is always tainted with the sunset from the corridor’s widows whenever he stays at the door, and a dozens of mothers and staff keep staring at him, searching for any opening to create a conversation. You are putting Yuuji’s bear beanie on, when you hear your boss asking Nanami for coffee with the excuse of talking about the boys, you laugh silently before grabbing the twins’s hands and moving towards their dad, giving an scape for him to move away from the woman.

“No need for the coffee ‘date’, the parents reunion with the teachers is this saturday, we all can talk there.” You say a bit loud, enough to send the message across, and all those people ready to jump at the blonde male move away.

“Thank you.” He whispers before grabbing the boys in his arms. “No ride today?”

Every once in a while, after the first time meeting Nanami, he has been asking you if you need a ride, and with a strength you don’t know where came from, you refuse nicely. It’s not that you don’t want, would be stupid to, it’s more for the fact that he is dreamily, you wouldn’t be any better than those who salivate at the sight of him. You could be worse.

“Not today, Mr. Nanami, these two made a mess in the bathroom, although I think Sukuna has a talent for arts, he painted the walls really well.”

“God, you’re joking.” You sign no with your head and the man sighs. “I’ll ask for the price of repair, please don’t worry about it, it’s my kids, I’ll fix it.”

“No need! Seriously, I believe just water and soap and it’ll be fine.” You grab Sukuna’s cheeks and he hides his face in his dad’s chest. “But if not, it’ll be a cute memory in the future, when they move classes or school.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Yuuji squirms. “We’re staying with you forever, right Papa?”

Oh.

“C’mon, buddy, time to go home.” Nanami laughs his answer, and you move with them, holding their backpacks. It’s a little ritual now, you could say.

You wave them goodbye and return home that day with a slight tremble in your fingers, after this year most likely you wouldn’t see them ever again, and that fact made you terribly sad. You would miss pealing the fruits for Yuuji and being gifted half of it, would miss even the mark bites of Sukuna little mouth, even though he hadn’t been a menace in a long time now.

Admitting, you would miss Nanami and his lovely smile, the way he would ask you for a ride anytime. You should accept it, you know, but could you move on from this little crush you’ve been harboring, if you are meant to never see him again? Doubt it, no one can get over the Nanami Kento.

You sleep with those thoughts, these little moments you had with him and the sweet and gentle and chaotic memories you had with the twins. It’s a bittersweet feeling teachers have, you should be used to it by now, dealing with the fact that the babies don’t stay babies forever, only in your heart and memories. But there is something in that little family that shakes your core, that moves your mind and warms your heart, something that scares you.

Saturday comes but your anxiety stays. You decorate your classroom with a large table filled with charcuterie boards and juices, there is also paintings of the kids hanging by the walls, presents to give to their parents. All of them are on the corridor, you call for one couple after the other, for the intimacy of talking about their children.

You notice how each kid can resemble their parents in a comical and adorable way. Megumi, for example, who has his mom messy hair but his dad scowl, Nobara is energetic like her mom, and sensitive like her daddy who cries when gifted her painting.

You also see how they can be with their babies. Toge’s parents who are elated with your hand signs, and how you explain that you learned it in two months for the boy and has been using and teaching it in your class, for the other students to communicate with the him. Maki’s and Mai’s parents are stiff and bored, and you take notice of that to pay more attention to the girls, help if needed anything.

You do your job perfectly, but your eyes always go searching for a blonde man whenever you go call the next parents. He is not there yet, and you wonder if he won’t come. Maybe job related, maybe he forgot, you try to not be sad.

When you are taking Nanako’s and Mimiko’s fathers to the door, waving them goodbye, you catch sight of a man with beige suit and blue shirt, in his hands another bouquet of purple tulips.

“I told you we should have given something.” Mr. Geto whispers while staring at Nanami.

“Love, that’s not a ‘Thank you for being my kid’s teacher’ bouquet.” Mr. Satoru answers with a smirk your way.

“I miss when you would give me flowers.” Geto answers, his voice low because they are already by the end of the corridor.

“Huh? I gave your flowers last week?!”

Nanami and you are staring at the couple, until their figures disappear and both of you stare at each-other, smiling fondly at first and then laughing a second later.

“I’m guessing these are for me?” You ask when you move inside the classroom, Nanami following behind. You turn to him, and he nods, giving you the bouquet, perfumed perfectly. “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry I was late, the boys wanted to come as well but I had to keep them occupied and tired.” You nod laughing, before pointing at the table in front of your desk, putting your flowers there, he sits and you move towards the wall, grabbing two drawings.

“These are for you.” You sit by his side instead of in front of the man and give him the papers, he has a sweet smile while admiring the drawings. “I asked the class to draw their family, hasn’t had the time to check yet, but I hope it’s better than the one I saw earlier: the girl draw only her sister and their cats.”

“It’s perfect, don’t worry.” Nanami has his eyes on both drawings, side by side. You can tell which is which by the colors and traces, but none other, the art is basically the same. “This is Ijichi in the car, how cute.” Nanami points at the figure in a black suit driving a car besides the house in both paintings. You stares confused at the fifth stick person, besides Nanami and the twins. “Is that…?”

“I think so…” Your hands move to your mouth, hiding your growing smile when you notice characteristics in it that resembles you, specially a rubber duck in your hands, in Sukuna’s drawing. “I’m flattered they consider me family.”

“They are not wrong.” Nanami stares at you now. “That day we meet, you were helping them with one thing I had no idea how.” He moves the drawing to your desk. “I’m not their biological father, don’t know if you know that.” You don’t, so you keep yourself quiet and let him speak. “I was their godfather, been friends with their dad ever since we were little. Itadori Jin, great guy, that’s where they inherited that beautiful pink hair.” Nanami has a sad smile in his lips that break your heart. “He and his wife died in a car crash, first date since the birth of the babies, just two months old. Their grandfather was adamant on keeping them, but he realized he needed my help, so he let me adopt them officially.”

He sighs before grabbing his thighs.

“Recently I told them about their parents, that’s why Sukuna started the biting, his sorrow is physically showing. I tried to help but didn’t knew how, but you did, you handled it better than I could.”

“You are still a great father, they might not have come from you, but they are yours. And you did helped them, Sukuna might have received some slaps from Yuuji, but Yuu always hugged him whenever it became too much, and he listened to me instead of throwing a tantrum.” You hold his arm for a second before removing your hand. “You are raising them very well, Mr. Nanami, it’s not easy to be a parent, but you are doing fine.”

“Thank you, and please call me Kento.” It’s not professional, but you nod.

“Okay… Kento.” You whisper his name like a secret, and you wonder if you feel right, but it tastes like honey in your tongue. It’s just a second of both of you staring at each-other for his eyes to move to your lips. You should move back, but you don’t, nor you can. Instead, your eyes go to his pink lips as well. “We should wrap this up, it’s late, right?”

“Yeah, we should.” But none of you move, eyes moving to eyes and lips, over and over, you wet your lips, he groans and lunges at you. You accept him easily, moving your hands to circle his broad shoulders and touch his neck, while his large hands take your waist.

You shouldn’t be doing this, but it feels wrong to not be doing it. So you allow yourself to be kissed hungrily by Kento.

There is three knocks on the door before you both jump apart, your boss, the principal, makes her way in, eyes shinning at seeing Nanami.

“Mr. Nanami, so good to see you here! Would you like to come and have that coffee we were taking about some days ago?”

Kento looks at you, his hair is a little messy and his mouth is red, he looks even more ravishing than before. You cough awkward, grabbing your flowers, bag and the twins’s drawing before moving to his side.

“I’m so sorry, Principal, but Mr. Nanami is giving me a ride home.” The man has his hands on your back in an instant, moving both of you out of the class. “I see you monday.”

The two of you leave the baffled woman behind, Nanami has an eternal perfect smile charming his face, making you want to kiss him even more. Which you do, when he closes the door he opened for you, and enters the car you kiss him, when you both stop at a red light you kiss him. And when he let you at your house, his hands again in your back, he kisses you.

You are too tempted to bring him inside, even more to have your way with him, but he beats you to it, asking you to go out with him the next day.

It’s just the beginning of your blooming relationship, flowers every week, restaurant dates, kisses at every opportunity. You both keep yourselves occupied and yet reserved. He gives you rides home after most staff and students are gone, the boys happily talking with you all the way to your house, and he leaves you at your door with a peck the babies don’t see.

It’s at your last day of the year, all your students glued to you, crying red faces you promise them to always be there when needed, giving the parents your personal number, they happily accept it. Yuuji and Sukuna are the most devasted, their little hands keep you from moving far away from them, and when Nanami comes to pick them up, Sukuna cries together with his brother, taking you by surprise.

You tell them bye and run to your apartment, where you prepare a whole meal and dress nicely, soon you hear the door knocking. When you open, it takes three stunned seconds before two little babies are running to your arms, screaming happily to see you.

“Now it’s a good time to say, Y/n is staying in our lives.” Nanami says while hugging you, both boys in your arms holding you as well.

“Forever?” Sukuna asks, Yuuji stares at you waiting for the answer.

“Yes, my cherubs, forever.”

#♱ 𓂃 ࣪ ˖ on stage ! ᯤ #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento #nanami kento fluff #nanami x reader #nanami x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami fluff #nanami x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen nanami #gege when i catch you gege #papamin au

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redroses07 · 4 months ago

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The Umbrella Academy Season 4 Fix It Fic // Five Hargreeves x Reader Edition

WC: 3.1k

CW: Canon accurate violence, swearing, kissing, use of Y/N, Y/N is a bad ass, domestic fluff, angsty af.

Summary: A Five x Fem!Reader rewrite for the end of season four because I absolutely hated the ending. Five and Lila are not a thing in this fic, because that made me literally gag.

A/N: Hey luvs! I worked my ass off writing this fic because I needed to have a better ending for season four. In my mind this fic is canon. I hope y'all like it because I truly love how it turned out! Have an amazing day and enjoy! - Claire ♡

Five sat on the empty train, riding round in aimless circles. He had no intention of ever stopping. Perhaps he would die here, if death was even possible in this endless void. There was no reason for him to continue, they were out of options.

All he wanted to do was save his family, save you, but he couldn't even do that. At least this way he could escape having to witness the end of their lives.

He couldn't help but feel as if this was all his fault, if only he had listened to Reginald when he told him never to time travel. So much pain, so many lost lives, it never would have happened.

Five looked out the window, he didn't know what exactly for. Everything looked the same. Round and Round again, each identical station feels more hopeless than the last.

After an immeasurable amount of time, days? years? who knows. Something caught Five's eye.

He jumped up from his seat, following the dark figure out into the station.

Was that? No.

"Hey, wait!" Five shouted, chasing him down a staircase.

He rounded a corner, seeing a dimly lit cafe filled with all too familiar faces. The place was filled with several alternate versions of Five himself. It was an odd feeling for him to see himself this way.

Nonetheless, he took a seat across from the Five he had followed.

No more than ten seconds later, another Five served up two pastrami sandwiches. Five number two began to complain about the amount of sauerkraut on his sandwich, staring intently at the meal.

"What is this place?" Five asked, reaching for the cup of hot coffee next to him.

"It's a gas station. What the hell does it look like? It's a Deli." He could see that the alternate Five share his love of sarcasm.

He went on to explain how this was a place where all of the Five's from alternate timelines end up while trying to fix the "broken timeline" issue.

"Okay, so what shattered the original timeline?" Five asked.

"Not what. Who? I'll give you three guesses." Alternate Five held up three fingers.

"We did!" Another Five yelled.

Five wasn't surprised, everything always seemed to be caused by him.

"By we, do you mean my siblings?" Five asked.

"Yep, the morons."

Five rolled his eyes.

"When we come into existence, the timeline is shattered, and then we're stuck trying to save the world. How many times was it again?"

"145,412."

The number seemed almost impossible to fathom, but the more alternate realities, the more opportunity for the world to end. Alternate Five pointed at the wall, which was filled with every possible way the world had ended. Viktor's attempt at blowing up the moon was front and center. Seeing it gave Five an unpleasant sense of nostalgia.

Five came to realize that the commission was created by an alternate Five in an attempt to fix the timeline, but it was never successful since the Hargreeves siblings were the root of the problem.

"I have to get back." Five turned, rushing out the door. He heard the alternate versions of himself begin to speak, but his overwhelming thoughts drowned it out.

Five ran as fast as he could, getting back on the train and returning to his rightful place. With his family.

As Five entered the abandoned shell of his former home, the room's occupants turned to look at him.

The first person he noticed was you. You watched him with sad eyes, eyes he thought he would never have to gaze into again. Yet here he was, and undeniably, he had a plan.

You watched Five scan the room. Dark hair hung in front of his eyes, his chest heaved from running, or perhaps from anxiety.

"I didn't think you'd be back." You purse your lips, giving him a sour look. '

Facing your bitterness was the hardest part of all this for Five. Of course you had every right to feel that way, he had just up and left you. Although, in his mind that was better than having to watch you die.

"Yeah, neither did I." Five muttered.

Everyone looked at him, obviously awaiting an explanation.

"We caused this." Five began.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Alison sighed.

You stared at Five intently, wondering what had changed since he decided to ditch you and everyone else.

"The marigold that infected our mothers bringing forth our births had a side effect, it fractured the timeline, bringing forth the end of the world."

Five looked from person to person, attempting to read everyone's emotions. They were unreadable.

"Extracting the marigold from our bodies is the only way to stop the cleanse, and in short, fix the timeline."

Silence settled over the room. You weren't born with marigold as the Hargreeves were, but due to Ben's antics, this now concerns you too.

"Okay, but how exactly do we do that?" Diego asked.

Five looked over to Viktor.

"Viktor, you can use your powers to extract the Marigold from our bodies. Unfortunately Ben and Jennifer are too far gone to be saved, but their sacrifice will have been for the greater good."

Viktor let out an elongated sigh, and with little to no hesitation, he agreed.

"Okay, let's get moving before it's too late." Viktor said, speeding out of the room.

You followed closely behind, trying your hardest to avoid Five's gaze.

"Y/N, I-" You cut him off, this was not the time to be talking about all the mistakes he had made. Even if those mistakes led to the answer for all your troubles, they were still mistakes.

"We can talk about this later, if there is one."

Five sighed and watched you exit the room, not even bothering to look his way. He had fucked up big time.

You watched Viktor head towards the monster that was Ben and Jennifer. The creature growled, as it hurdled towards your group.

You turned back as you felt someone grab your arm, Five was standing behind you. You saw something in him that you had only seen a few times before, fear.

"Please. If we don't make it through this I want to make sure we're okay." Five begged for your forgiveness.

In any other circumstance you would not have given in this easily, but the dire situation has just begun to settle in. This could be it.

Neither of you wanted to leave this world with so many words unsaid.

Your gaze softened, and you followed Five away from the other Hargreeve's.

"I know what I did was wrong. With every bone in my body I feel that it was wrong."

He spoke loudly enough to drown out the oncoming chaos, but softly enough to omit any sort of aggression.

Five reached for your hands, and you reluctantly let him take them.

Five paused for a moment, trying to find the words that would mean the most, considering he was dealing with limited time.

"My worst fear is to see you suffer, and at the time, running away seemed like my only escape. I feel like I've already caused so much hardship in your life, and the thought of any more terrified me." His eyes stayed glued to you.

Five was the whole reason you had joined The Commission to begin with. He helped you to believe in a cause that you otherwise wouldn't have, and the two of you hadn't left each other's side since.

You didn't regret it per say, but you couldn't deny that you often wished for a different life. You would never blame any of your circumstances on Five though, and you hated how he always chose to blame himself.

"Nothing that has happened to me, or to anyone, is your fault. I think all of us share some responsibility, but blaming yourself is just wrong." You squeezed Five's clammy hands.

Five let out a sigh of relief as he was able to recognize forgiveness in your eyes.

"I love you." He said, fighting the tears that began to form in the corners of his eyes. The phrase was reserved only for you, as it is a concept that has always been hard for five.

Growing up with Reginald as a father, and a family that could win an Olympic gold medal in dysfunctionality, Five didn't exactly have a positive outlook on love.

"I love you too. We've been through worse, we'll get through this too."

Five pulled you into a tight hug, breathing you in as if it was the last chance he would ever get to hold you. The two of you were versed in the end of the world, this was not the first final hug you had shared. Five placed a soft kiss on the top of your head, and he didn't miss the small cry that escaped your lips.

You rarely cried, and when you did it was always around Five. He was the only person you felt comfortable enough with to show vulnerability. It was the perfect moment, and the past few days had worn down your patience. You reluctantly let a few tears slip loose.

"Get your asses over here love birds, Ben is here." Diego called from the other side of the room.

You and Five exchanged a look before running over to the center of the room and rejoining your family.

Ben growled ferociously, the red goo that dripped from his body falling around the room.

"Just so you guys know, I have no idea what the hell I'm doing. So if we all die, I apologize in advance." Viktor said, clenching his fists on either side.

His newly improved orange power began to swirl around his body. He squeezed his eyes shut, clearly focusing on the task at hand.

You reached for Five's hand, interlocking your fingers with his. If these were to be your last moments, you wanted to make sure he was with you.

Five gripped your hand with everything he had in him, every bit of strength was to remind you of his presence.

With each moment that passed, the colorful plume of Viktor's powers grew, encasing not only Ben and Jennifer, but all of you.

You and Five watched as the all too familiar gold marigold specks began to float through the air. It felt odd, it didn't hurt, but it wasn't a particularly pleasant feeling. It was like your whole body was being poked by a prickly cactus.

The air turned cold, and all other sounds were overcome by the rumbling of Viktor's power.

An unbearable wave of exhaustion washed over you, and it became hard for you to keep your eyes open.

You looked over at Five, making eye contact with him one last time. He gave you his signature smirk, funny how in spite of everything he could still be himself.

The last thing you saw was Ben falling to the floor, the marigold protruding from him filling the whole room with a deep yellow glow.

And just like that, the world turned black.

· · ─────── ·☂· ─────── · ☂ · ─────── ·☂· ─────── · ·

Five opened his eyes, the bright light of day overwhelming his vision. The ground beneath him was soft, the tall grass tickling his fingertips.

Five sat up slowly, his eyes adjusting to the sun. He looked over next to him, and there you were. Just as you had always been, right by his side. Your chest rose slowly, a thankful sign that you were still alive.

Five looked beyond you, to see his siblings all scattered around the lawn. They were all exactly where they had been before the blackout. The empty patch of grass, of course, was where the Hargreeve's mansion used to stand.

Without the existence of their powers, The Umbrella Academy was never formed. It was strange, to know that what Five remembered, no one else did. It was like waking up from a strange dream.

However, one thing was missing, Ben. And of course Jennifer. Five wasn't surprised that they hadn't made it, considering how their bodies were overtaken.

Five watched as his siblings slowly began to rise from their temporary comas, their eyes heavy and glazed over.

Five nudged you slightly. Unable to wait for you to wake, wanting to share this beautiful moment with you.

You opened your eyes and felt as if you had awoken from a decades long slumber. The first thing you saw was Five next to you, a genuine smile on his face. That was something you had missed.

"Are we in heaven?" Klaus mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"Well if this was heaven, I'd be awfully disappointed." Lila replied.

You laughed to yourself, and stood up on wobbly legs.

You all had done it.

"Viktor. I think you might have just saved the world." Luther announced.

Viktor smiled and looked down, maybe eventually he'd let himself take the credit.

You began to take in your surroundings. The sound of traffic in the distance, the wind stinging your cheek, the smell of spring air. It was all so normal.

"Guys, where's Ben?" Klaus asked, and your heart dropped.

"Klaus...we all knew he probably wouldn't make it.." Alison said sadly.

Just then, something caught your eye. Something yellow that stuck out in the patch of green.

"Guys, look!" You pointed at the unique plant.

"Marigolds." Five said softly, and you felt his hand close around yours.

Two beautiful yellow flowers sprouted from the earth, a reminder of what was sacrificed. A reminder of what had to happen for all of this to exist, and a symbol of hope.

~~ Two Years Later ~~

You awoke to the sound of birds chirping outside your window, a song that was often your wake-up call. You rolled over to see Five sleeping peacefully next to you. You weren't surprised. He always slept late, after all, he was an old man at heart.

It had been two years of living freely in the new timeline. You and Five now share an apartment next to Lila and Diego and their three kids.

Life wasn't without its challenges, but compared to everything else the two of you had been through this was paradise.

Viktor had started his own Cafe, a small shop on a street corner that had quickly become a local favorite.

Alison had landed a big movie role not long after everything returned to normal. Ever since it hit the big screen, she had no problem with job offers. She didn't even miss her power of persuasion.

Klaus still lives with Alison. He doesn't really do anything specific, he often refers to himself as 'self-employed'. But he was happy, and that was all that really mattered.

Luther had somehow reconnected with Sloane, who had re-appeared after the timeline was fixed. Of course she didn't remember anything, but it must've been fate because they got to fall in love all over again.

Diego decided to put his skills acquired from his power to use and now taught axe throwing classes.

Lila had decided to help people who had ended up in a mental hospital, similar to how she had. She was working on getting her degree in psychology.

As for you and Five. Five kept his CIA job, and you decided to join him in his career. As the two of you had always done everything together, why not this too?

You felt Five stir next to you, letting out a series of groans. He slowly opened his eyes, a smile spreading across his face the moment he saw you.

"Good morning, beautiful." His morning voice is thick and deep.

"I love you." You whispered, pushing his messy hair out of his eyes.

Five leaned up to kiss you but you counteracted it by jumping out of bed. You pulled the blanket off of him and he whined in protest.

"Time to get up, Gramps, Lila wants us to drive the kids to school today."

Five rolled his eyes at the nickname. You snickered and kissed him on the cheek before heading to the bathroom to get ready.

After the two of you grabbed breakfast, you met Lila outside, Grace and the twins behind her.

"Thank you again for helping us out with this, I don't know how I'd ever get to work on time without you." Lila gave you a quick hug.

"Of course, whatever you need." You ushered her away, signaling that you could take it from here.

You were used to driving the kids places, and they always said you were their favorite aunt. Five however, could not surpass Klaus for favorite uncle.

"Alright guys, who's ready for school?" You said as you jumped in the driver's seat.

There was a chorus of enthusiastic cheers from the back, and you laughed.

"I was never that excited about school when I was your age." The kids had no idea how long ago that actually was for you.

You made sure to put on some kid friendly music, anything but Baby Shark. You dropped the kids off and made sure they all got inside safely.

"Anything else on the schedule for today?" Five asked you.

"Nope, we're both off today so I think the rest of our day is free."

"Great, we should do absolutely nothing." Five's eyes lit up with excitement.

You nodded in agreement and drove towards your home.

Once you arrived, the both of you threw on pajamas and cuddled up in bed. Five flung his arms around you and rested his head on your shoulder, simultaneously letting out a big sigh.

"I love you." He mumbled in your ear.

Even after all these years he still made you blush every time he said those three little words.

"I love you more." You pressed a kiss to Five's nose and he scrunched it up before responding with a chaste kiss to your lips.

After breaking apart you and Five settled into each other's arms, excited to spend a calm day together.

He reached for the remote and flicked on the TV. The small kiss he placed on your forehead didn't go unnoticed.

As Five settled into this new life, he found it hard not to expect a new life altering crisis to pop up at any moment. But it never did.

As the day dragged on, nothing out of the ordinary happened; and you could almost say that it was an ordinary day.

Taglist: @xreader-writing @dorkyfangirl24 @dinorawrss @anne-oop @ladynaviamin @i-amtrash @patchesofdreams @sarbear33 @marinalor

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livebeforeyoulearn · 3 months ago

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A Gift Like Love Is Never Free

Warnings: Soft beach sex, 18+, fluff

Word count: 3.2k

Summary: It's your three-year anniversary and Alexia shows you just how much you mean to her.

The evening air is warm against your skin, the sun slowly sinking into the horizon, casting a kaleidoscope of orange and pink hues across the sky. The gentle crash of the waves fills the air, their rhythmic retreat soothing, like the earth’s own heartbeat. You sit cross-legged on the soft, woven blanket spread over the sand, its fibres warm from the sun, yet now cool in the fading light. Your guitar rests against your legs, the familiar weight of it grounding you as your fingers pluck mindlessly at the strings, each note a soft hum that drifts into the evening.

Behind you, Alexia is seated, her body turned to the side as she leans back on her hands, her eyes scanning the nearly empty beach. The last few stragglers are heading off, their voices quieted as the world around you shifts into twilight. The day is slipping into a peaceful stillness, the kind of stillness where every sound seems amplified, every whisper of wind or brush of sand heightened by the absence of distraction. There’s no one left but you and her, the two of you cocooned in your own little world, safe and quiet, isolated by the gentle shroud of dusk.

It’s your three-year anniversary today. You can scarcely believe it – three years. You never thought you’d get here, never imagined you could be loved for this long, this completely. Your fingers pause on the strings for a moment as the thought sinks in.

Raised by a single mother, with siblings much older than you, who had already left home by the time you could grasp the meaning of love, you had only your imagination to define it. Love seemed like something from fairy tales, always out of reach, until Alexia came into your life. She’s been your definition of love ever since. She loves every part of you – the flaws, the imperfections, the parts you’ve always been afraid to show the world. She’s always there, encouraging, supportive, looking at you like you’re her entire universe. And for her, you are. She is willing to give everything to you, to merge with you, body and soul, until there’s nothing separating you, nothing but the endless depth of your shared love.

You've faced your struggles together, moments when you thought it might all be over. But as Alexia has taught you, a gift like love is never free. It's been a journey, filled with arguments, misunderstandings, and hard times. Yet, love always takes over, compelling you to fight for each other, to hold on to this precious bond you’ve built.

Alexia shifts slightly, the subtle brush of her body against your back a comforting reminder of her presence. Her warmth, her steadiness, her constant encouragement. She’s always been like that, always been the one who looks at you as though you’re the only person in the world who matters. And to her, you are. You are her everything. Every flaw, every imperfection, every scar – she loves it all. She loves you completely, in a way that feels almost impossible, yet here you are, three years later, still wrapped in the intensity of it.

Your fingers begin to move across the strings again, finding a familiar rhythm as you play a soft, slow melody. It’s not something you’ve practised, not something you even really know, but it feels right in the moment. The notes spill from your guitar effortlessly, like they were always meant to be played here, in this space, with her listening.

Alexia leans forward slightly, her breath warm against the back of your neck as her head gently comes to rest between your shoulder blades. The feeling of her so close, her heartbeat in time with yours, makes your chest tighten with emotion. Her fingers begin to trace patterns in the sand beside you, absentminded swirls that match the laziness of the evening. The sun continues to dip lower, casting a rich orange glow over everything, the light softening her features, making her look even more breathtaking than usual – if that’s even possible.

You let the guitar’s melody guide you into a song. You’re singing softly, the words slipping from your lips with ease, a serenade meant for her and her alone. It’s a song of love, a song that speaks to the depth of what you feel for her, the connection that runs through your veins like lifeblood. Each note carries a piece of your heart, an unspoken truth that words alone could never fully capture.

She listens intently, her breath evening out as the song envelops her, her fingers stilling in the sand as if afraid to disturb the moment. You can feel the way her chest presses slightly against your back, the way her body melts into yours as she absorbs every word, every strum of the guitar. She isn’t just hearing the song – she’s feeling it, taking in every emotion you’re pouring out. The connection between you is palpable, a thread of love and understanding that binds you together, stronger than anything else in the world.

As the last note fades into the gentle sound of the waves, Alexia lifts her head slightly, her breath soft against the back of your neck. “That was beautiful,” she murmurs, her voice low and filled with so much affection that it sends a warm rush through your chest.

You smile, feeling your face heat up with a shy blush, the same blush that coloured your cheeks the first time you ever sang for her. It’s funny, the way she still makes you feel like that – like you’re just beginning to fall for her all over again. Every glance, every smile, every touch still carries the same thrill, the same flutter in your stomach.

You can hear the soft rustle of sand as she moves, her weight shifting. Then her lips are on your shoulder, featherlight, pressing a sweet kiss to your bare skin. Her hands follow, sliding slowly up your back, her fingers tracing the line of your spine with a tenderness that sends a shiver coursing through you. Her hands glide over your shoulders, and then she’s wrapping her arms around your neck, her head resting against your shoulder.

You place the guitar aside, gently lowering it to the blanket. With her so close, her warmth seeping into you, there’s no need for anything else in this moment. Just the two of you, wrapped in the serenity of the evening, wrapped in each other.

“I love you,” you whisper, turning your head just enough to catch her gaze. Your eyes meet, and the intensity of the connection between you swells, making your heart pound in your chest. The words are simple, but they carry the weight of everything you feel for her. Every moment, every hardship, every joy – it’s all encapsulated in those three words.

“I love you too,” she breathes, her voice a soft echo of yours, as if those words were meant to exist only between the two of you.

Her lips find yours, there’s no urgency, just the sweet, tender press of her mouth against yours, a gentle exploration that makes your heart swell. Her kisses are soft, innocent, but they send waves of warmth rushing through you, filling every corner of your soul. She kisses the side of your neck next, her lips grazing the sensitive skin there, leaving behind a trail of warmth. Each kiss is a promise, a reassurance of everything you’ve built together, of everything you’ve been through, and everything you still have yet to experience.

Her hands drift down your chest, her touch light, barely there, but enough to send a shiver running through you. You glance around the beach, feeling a flicker of nervousness at the open space, but the beach is empty now, the horizon darkening as the last of the sun disappears behind the ocean. The waves, once gold-tipped by the sun, are now silver in the moonlight, casting a gentle shimmer over the sand. The world feels miles away, and in this little slice of solitude, it’s as if nothing exists but you and her.

Her fingers toy with the tie of your bikini top, and you breathe in sharply at the sensation. The tension is electric, your body humming with anticipation as she plays with the knot, drawing it out, building the anticipation until you can hardly stand it.

“Alexia…” you murmur, your voice a soft warning as her fingers slip closer. “We’re on a beach.”

Her response is low, barely a whisper, her lips brushing your ear as she speaks. “I don’t care. It’s been three years of loving you. Let me show you just how much you mean to me.”

Her words send a rush of heat through you, making your pulse quicken. You glance around once more, but there’s no one here, and even if someone did walk by, the trees nearby offer enough cover to keep you hidden. The world feels small now, as if the beach, the sand, the sea – it all exists only for the two of you.

Her fingers move with practised ease, untying the knot of your bikini top. The fabric slips down, falling into your lap, and you don’t stop her. You couldn’t, even if you wanted to. Her hands slide over your chest, and you gasp at the sensation, her touch sending ripples of pleasure through your body. She cups your breasts gently, her thumbs brushing over your nipples, teasing them into hardness with slow, deliberate movements.

Your breath hitches as you lean back into her touch, your body responding instinctively to her. She presses her lips to the nape of your neck, her kisses soft and tender, but filled with the kind of passion that makes your heart race. Every kiss feels like a promise, every touch a reminder of how deeply she loves you, how completely yours she is.

Alexia shifts, moving so that she’s no longer behind you, but beside you. She eases you down onto the blanket, her body hovering over you as her hands continue their gentle exploration. You smile up at her, that sweet, cute, loving smile that you know drives her wild. It’s the kind of smile that starts small, blooming slowly as the warmth of her gaze fills you with affection so intense that it seems to burn from the inside out. Her eyes, dark and smouldering, seem to drink in every inch of your expression, as if she’s memorising it, as if this moment – right here, right now – could be her last chance to take you in. There’s something so intense, so consuming about the way Alexia looks at you, like you’re her universe, like nothing else exists or matters but this.

She leans down slowly, her face coming closer, and you can feel the heat of her breath ghosting over your lips before her mouth meets yours. It’s a kiss that feels like a question, a gentle inquiry into your soul, and you answer with the way you lean up into her, the way your lips part slightly under hers, inviting her in. There’s no rush, no urgency – just the two of you, savouring the closeness, the intimacy that has been built and nurtured over these years. Her hands are on either side of your head, fingers threading through your hair, holding you in place, but there’s no force in her touch – just an overwhelming need to keep you near, to feel you.

A shift in her energy makes the kiss deepen, her mouth pressing harder against yours as if she’s pouring every emotion she has ever felt into this moment. Her lips are soft yet demanding, moving with a rhythm that’s both tender and urgent. She kisses you like it’s the last time she will ever kiss you, as if she’s terrified that you might disappear if she doesn’t hold onto this connection. Each press of her lips against yours is infused with passion, love, and an unspoken plea that you can feel in the way she trembles slightly as she kisses you.

It’s everything at once: slow, tender, hurried, and rushed. There’s an intensity to it that leaves you breathless, a heady mix of emotions flooding your senses – love, desire, devotion, everything you’ve felt for each other in these past three years distilled into this single kiss. Your lips part instinctively, allowing her access, and her tongue sweeps into your mouth with practised ease. She explores you as if she’s never kissed you before, but it still feels as fresh and electrifying as that very first time. Every swipe of her tongue against yours sends sparks shooting through your body, igniting every nerve.

Her hands slide from your hair, tracing down your neck, brushing lightly over your skin in a way that sends shivers racing down your spine. Goosebumps rise across your arms, your skin reacting instantly to her touch, each stroke gentle yet purposeful. It’s as though she’s worshipping you, taking her time to appreciate every inch of you. Her fingers ghost over your collarbone before travelling lower, brushing the tops of your breasts.

Your nipples harden instantly under her fingertips, the sensation of her touch sending another wave of shivers through your body. Her lips pull away from yours, but not before she leaves one last lingering kiss on your bottom lip, her breath warm as she exhales softly. Without missing a beat, her mouth begins its descent down your body, lips brushing over your jaw, your neck, trailing lower and lower until she reaches your chest.

Her breath is hot against your skin, and you can feel your heart pounding beneath her lips as she presses soft kisses across the swell of your breasts. The sensation is both intimate and loving, her lips moving slowly, with deliberate tenderness, as if she’s taking her time to savour every inch of your skin. When she finally takes one of your nipples into her mouth, a quiet gasp escapes your lips, your back arching slightly at the overwhelming sensation of warmth and wetness.

Her mouth works slowly, expertly, her tongue swirling around the sensitive peak before she sucks gently, drawing a low moan from deep within you. Every touch, every kiss, feels like a confession, a silent vow of her love for you, for your body, for everything you are. Her other hand slides down your side, fingers lightly tracing the curve of your waist before she reaches the tie of your bikini bottoms. She tugs gently, teasingly, her eyes flicking up to meet yours with a glimmer of playful mischief, her lips still wrapped around your nipple.

The ties come undone with ease, the soft fabric slipping away from your skin as Alexia pulls your bikini bottoms down and tosses them aside. She pulls back just enough to take you in, her eyes roaming over your naked body with an expression that borders on reverence. She knows your body intimately, yet the way she looks at you now feels as though she’s seeing you for the first time, all over again. Her gaze is heavy with love, admiration, and pure desire.

You wait beneath her, your chest rising and falling with each breath, anticipation coiling in your stomach as you feel her eyes on you. There’s a vulnerability in the way you lay there, completely exposed, body and soul laid bare before her, but there’s no fear in it – only trust. She looks at you as though she’s falling in love with you all over again, her gaze sweeping across every curve, every line, every inch of your skin. The intensity of her gaze almost makes you squirm, the weight of her desire palpable in the air around you.

She moves lower, setting herself between your legs, her hands guiding your thighs apart with the softest pressure. Her hands are gentle on your hips, holding you steady as she kisses her way down your torso with deliberate slowness. Each kiss sends a spark of warmth through your body, her mouth worshipping every inch of you as she trails lower and lower. Her lips find your inner thighs, brushing over the delicate skin there, each touch feather-light, driving you mad with anticipation.

When her lips finally reach the apex of your thighs, your breath catches in your throat, a soft gasp escaping you as she presses a tender kiss to your centre. The sensation sends a shock wave of pleasure through your body, your hips shifting forward instinctively, seeking more of her touch. She smiles against you, her breath warm and teasing as she kisses you again, her lips soft, gentle, yet filled with so much love. A soft chuckle vibrates through her chest as she pulls back to look up at you, her lips still glistening from that brief, tantalising touch.

“I love you,” she whispers, her voice soft and filled with an emotion so deep that it makes your heart clench in your chest.

Before you can respond, her mouth is on you again, her tongue flicking out to glide over your clit in one slow, languid motion. Your entire body jerks at the sensation, a moan slipping from your lips as your eyes flutter shut. Her tongue moves in slow, deliberate circles, each flick of her tongue sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body. She’s unhurried, savouring the taste of you, drawing out each sound, each gasp, each quiver that escapes you.

The pace quickens, her movements more precise, more focused as she builds you up, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your body is trembling now, your muscles clenching as your breathing grows heavier, shallower. Her fingers spread you open, giving her better access as she plunges her tongue deep into you, savouring the way you taste, the way you feel around her. She moves her thumb to rub against your clit, the extra pressure sending your mind spiralling, your body teetering on the edge of bliss.

It’s the perfect combination, the perfect rhythm, and it doesn’t take long before your body begins to unravel. The world fades away as the pleasure overtakes you, every nerve alight with sensation, your muscles tensing, trembling as you finally come undone over her tongue. Your climax washes over you in waves, leaving you breathless, your heart pounding as you release everything to her.

Alexia doesn’t stop until she’s taken every last drop, her mouth never leaving you, her tongue still moving slowly, gently, until the aftershocks fade away. Finally, she pulls away, climbing up your body to lay on top of you, her chest rising and falling in time with yours as she presses a kiss to your lips. You taste yourself on her, the kiss slow and tender, a reflection of the love that has filled every moment of this day.

As you lie there, wrapped up in each other, you feel nothing but pure, unadulterated love. Every curve of her body pressed against yours, every whisper of her breath against your skin, every beat of your heart – it’s all for her. Alexia consumes you whole, filling every corner of your soul with her love, her devotion. You’re hers, and she is yours, completely and utterly.

And in this moment, under the dimming sky, with the sound of the waves crashing softly in the distance, you know that nothing could ever come close to this feeling. This is love, in its purest, most beautiful form.

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso smut #woso one shot #woso #espwnt x reader #barcelona femeni #espwnt

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morguecuts · 3 months ago

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Incase I’m Not Here

five hargreeves has a baby with fem!reader synopsis: five has saved the world from an apocalypse countless times. after creating a loving family of his own, his constant worry that the end will come again unfortunately became true. word count: 1.5k tags: five is a father, fluff, angst, death, a few sad moments authors note: this is one of my most beautiful, yet devastating pieces. i truly love the idea of five being a loving father :(

♱⛧ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨ ୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⛧♱ the end of the world was an ongoing tragedy for many years, ruining the lives of billions over and over again, but especially the hargreeves. the umbrella academy, as they were called, spent endless months trying to prevent an apocalypse from occurring. they traveled from timeline to timeline, skipping around decades trying to save themselves and the remainder of earth.

when the timeline was assumed to be restored, the superhumans had agreed to go separate ways and live their lives. diego and lila created their own family, housing a new timeline version of lila’s birth parents. viktor moved all the way to canada, owning a bar and a gray cat named misty. luther was typically off the grid, except the occasional birthday post for him and all of his siblings. klaus and allison lived together, in a three story house with allison’s daughter claire.

five hargreeves traveled the world, worrying about the potential upcoming events that would force him and his siblings to reunite in tragedy. he tracked previous timelines, looking for artifacts that hint at a glitch in the system. after the first 5 years of silence, and seeming nothing pointing toward any timeline issues, he began to calm his nerves.

that’s when he met the mother of his child. she was the light that five never knew he was missing. she ignited a burnt flame deep inside his soul, rekindling the lost inspiration he held for things that were other than research. in addition, her beauty was unmatched to anyone he had ever seen, or met before. her long hair completely covered the back of her body, tracing the outline of her beautiful shape. her perfectly puzzled face made him swoon almost immediately. most importantly, the way that she loved him made him learn to love who he was inside, instead of who people wanted him to be.

their home was a perfect combination of their personalities. a matte black and white aesthetic, perfectly clean and chic, with a hint of victorian vampire. her feminine touch was visible in all the right places, creating a warm home for the two of them, and anyone else who entered. his headstrong worries of future destruction set up for typically annoying safety procedures, but she didn't mind it. the pair merged together quite beautifully, carbon copies of the other. if five didn’t know any better, which to be fair he actually did, then he would say they were lovers in every possible timeline.

five was used to living for himself, his siblings, and even the rest of the world. his purpose was always meant to save other people, live for them, protect them. however, now 5 years into the loving marriage with her, he had learned to live for someone who wasn’t superhuman.

he stood hovering over the clean white bassinet. the small beaded eyes glance up at him, an overwhelming amount of confusion falls over them before turning to love. her small nose scrunching at the sight of him. the few hairs brushed upon her head are slicked down away from her face. her small pursed lips release grumbles and whines at an alarming volume, desiring for the tall suited man to hold her.

“she isn’t going to crumble if you pick her up, five. you have to hold her eventually, she needs to know who her father is.” the child's mother cooed, leaning into his back, wrapping her arms around his waist lovingly. the man sighed into her touch, except it wasn't really there. the air behind him was cold and stiff. his body ached for her, a sense of comfort was quickly turned back into sadness.

“what if she doesn't like me?” he spoke into the rather empty room. “what if something triggers me to teleport and i hurt her? my only way of protecting her is loving her from a distance.” the water in his eyes glasses over the blue. he reeks of sorrow, insecurity, and fear.

“you are the one man designed to protect her, my love. don't let what happened in the past make you afraid of what's happening in the present. she’s going to need you, we both know i can't help you anymore. please just pick her up, five.” the voice echoes around him, his eyes narrowing down onto the now sleep filled child.

he carefully unbuttons the sleeves on his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders and draping it onto the side of the crib. he rolls his white undershirt above his elbows, hyping himself up in the process. the small fragile girl rests on the pillowed surface, her tiny chest rising and falling. his hands carefully wrapping around her body, supporting her head while raising her close to him.

the small being is unlike anything he’s ever seen. tiny hands attached to tiny arms, short legs with the smallest feet. she’s unable to do anything without him. her entire life for the next few years depends on his actions. a small worried smile spreads across his face, admiring the girl leaning against his arms.

small eyes blink open tiredly, glaring around before landing on her fathers. pure love glistens with the hazel colors swimming around. she makes chirps and squirming noises, slightly frightening five in the process. he takes mental notes on all of her little features. definitely her mothers eyes and lips, but his nose. truly the perfect combination of the two lovebirds. tears form in his eyes when he sees her smile, a miniature yet exact replica that once belonged to her mother.

a faint knock taps upon the nursery door, the caretaker is chattering unknown words outside. theres a moment of silence before she enters the room, glancing at five with the baby cradled lovingly in his embrace. he turns around at the sound of her appearance, looking into her puzzled face. “there’s been a call for you, it's from your sister in law.” her eyes are firm and strong, holding his gaze causing him to pause for a moment.

“and what did she say?” he turns his back to her again, slowly rocking the baby back into her peaceful rest.

“a briefcase was found in new york this morning. i’m so sorry, but it’s starting, sir.” she holds her hands together in front of her body, head dipping into her chest.

“how long do we have?” five knows his constant worrying would eventually lead to this. he thought by spending endless hours hunting down glitches in the timeline, he could find a cause, find a solution, but nothing ever came until now.

“they don't know anything yet. it could be weeks, months, possibly even years. i’ve been told it's not severe, but that doesn't mean that it won't become so.” the sorrow in her voice runs deep, an unfortunate sigh escapes her lips.

his stillness is deafening, the room has a slight buzzing noise from the house's electricity, but otherwise is completely silent. the babe shifts in his arms, nuzzling into him for better warmth and comfort. it is at this exact moment that everything clicks into place. she is his new purpose, and she will be his future. if anything is to go wrong, he would sacrifice his life for her without a question. nothing will ever be able to cause harm to her as long as he is alive.

his mind races thinking of the possibilities, will she have powers like him? will she be as headstrong as him? will she be accurately able to save the world if he is no longer alive to do so himself? The caretaker takes a step backwards, beginning to leave the room before his voice breaks the silence. “i need parchment, as much as you can physically gather.” his words are cold, and demanding, nothing that he has ever been towards her before. “and pens as well, as many pens as you can find me. i have work i must do before it's too late.” he begins to lie the child back into her bassinet, gently wrapping her back into the warmth of the bed. “yes sir, is there anything else?” the caretaker steps towards the door once more, ready to step into motion as requested. five’s eyes scan over every inch of his beloved offspring, a protective concern washed over his face. “yes actually, the albums from the attic please. i want her to be able to recognize her family when things go south.” his comment is quieter, more personal and calm. the caretaker whisks away, leaving the man and his daughter alone once more.

“you will never be alone” a gentle hand brushes small hairs away and out of her face. rubbing her small, chubby cheeks before pulling back. “i will guide you through everything that i possibly know, you will not fail this world.” his feet step back from the white wooden crib, reaching for the black jacket that was hung upon it earlier that night. slipping into it before exiting the room, heading toward his office.

♱⛧ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨ ୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⛧♱

thank you so much for reading!

i hope you’ve enjoyed it, please feel free to make any comments or story requests down below. any support is always appreciated <3

#five x reader #five hargreeves imagines #number five imagine #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves #number five #number five x reader #tua season 4 #tua x reader #tua x you #five x you #the umbrella academy season 4 #five hargreaves x reader #tua five #five tua #umbrella academy #angst

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7s3ven · 3 months ago

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ONE THING LEADS TO ANOTHER, pt 1. neteyam x fem! metkayina! r

IN WHICH… Y/N and Neteyam’s walls suddenly come crashing down one night after a heart to heart conversation.

( requested )

Notes: mentions of sex (not written out, though), throwing up (morning/pregnancy sickness), small panic attack, a little angst, fluff ending, neteyam + reader are like 19 ig, teen pregnancy?

—

Neteyam was thankful for the Metkayina allowing his family into their home but he missed his own. He missed the trees and the forest and his friends. The forest was all he had known. He was supposed to be the next clan leader, it was a job he had been preparing for since his birth. But it was all ripped away from him when he and his family were forced to leave. Now, he had nothing. No status, no promises of greatness, and almost no friends. Lo’ak didn’t count because he had to see his idiotic brother every day.

The night was quiet and cool as Neteyam slowly stepped over Lo’ak, who was sound asleep on the floor of the hut. Neteyam rolled his eyes at his brother, who was always sleeping in odd places.

He had been sneaking out regularly, trying to get away from his crushing responsibilities. Neteyam always sat in the same spot on the beach yet when he arrived, he found it was already taken. He recognised the Metkayina girl as Y/N, Tsireya and Aonung’s older sister and the future Tsahik. Kiri was better friends with her than Neteyam was. Nevertheless, he slowly walked up behind her.

“Out here all alone?” He questioned, crouching down. Their shoulders brushed as Y/N turned her head to glance at him. Her narrowed eyes softened at the sight of him.

“Oh, it is only you.” She murmured.

“Sorry. Did I startle you?”

Neteyam heard Y/N quietly laugh. “A little. What are you doing out so late?” She tilted her head, looking up at Neteyam. He sat down, shrugging.

“No reason.” He replied, “I just needed some peace and quiet.”

Y/N nodded in understanding. “I am doing the same. As mean as it might sound, I had to get away from my family for a little bit. Aonung’s snores are always so loud too.”

A small smirk crept across Neteyam’s lips. “You should hear Lo’ak. Sometimes, he’s snores so loud that it wakes my dad up.”

“How is your family settling in, Neteyam?” Y/N inquired, leaning back to stare up at the starry sky. Neteyam held back a sigh.

“We are trying our best.” He uttered, “But it is not easy. We are used to trees… not sand and water.”

Y/N hummed. “Do you miss the forest?” She mentally scolded herself for asking such a question. Of course he did. He would not be talking about it if he did not.

“Yes. And as much as I try to enjoy all this, I will always prefer the forest.” Neteyam abruptly shook his head to rid himself of such thoughts. “But I cannot complain. We are lucky to be here.”

Y/N looked Neteyam up and down, observing his body language. Slowly, she reached out a hand, placing it on Neteyam’s. “You can complain to me.” She gently told him. “I will not judge. I will only listen.”

It seemed Neteyam had been waiting for this exact words. He launched into describing his home with a smile on his face. He told Y/N of the banshees, the mountains, and the trees that stretched across the land for endless miles. It all sounded very foreign yet fascinating to Y/N.

“My parents would not want me to complain. Lo’ak, Kiri, and Tuk are allowed to miss the forest but not me.” Neteyam fidgeting with his fingers, a constant reminder that he would never be viewed as true Na’vi.

“Do they expect you to be perfect?” Y/N spoke up, her voice a soft whisper over the sound of the waves crashing against the sandy shore. Silently, Neteyam nodded.

“I am the golden child. I should not be saying such nonsense… but I miss my old life. Here, I get in trouble for every little thing Lo’ak does. I know as the oldest sibling, it is my job to look out for them, but it is growing tiresome.” Neteyam looked at Y/N, who was listening intensively, “Do you ever feel that way… about your siblings?”

“Yes. Aonung is always getting into mischief and I am given the job of picking up his slack. I am the future Tsahik yet with all the scolding I receive from my parents because of Aonung, it makes me feel like a failure.” Y/N aimlessly picked at the small shells nestled in the grains of sand as she spoke. “I love Tsireya and Aonung… but I cannot always be there to protect them. And that scares me.”

Neteyam nodded. He was closer now, barely an inch away from Y/N. She would have pushed him away if he was any other boy. But it was Neteyam, sweet Neteyam who was trying his best to gain his father’s approval and protect his family. She made no move to shove him.

“I feel that something terrible is approaching… and I am scared that I can no longer shield my siblings.” Y/N kept speaking as Neteyam drew soft circles in the palm of her hand to comfort her.

“I understand.” He muttered, locking gazes with Y/N. They held eye contact and for the first time in years, Y/N felt truly seen.

The feeling of finally being understood without judgement clouded Y/N’s mind as her back hit the soft sand and she returned Neteyam’s kiss.

The days after their sudden incident were a jumbled blur. Y/N had been feeling moody as of lately and it all made sense when she threw up the food she had eaten just minutes ago. Y/N shook as she wrapped her arms around herself in disbelief.

She was frozen in fear, barely able to register that Tsireya was calling out her name. “Y/N! I’ve been looking for you. Would you like to swim with Aonung and I and the Sully kids?” Tsireya brightly beamed, having no idea of the panic plaguing Y/N’s thoughts.

“I am alright, Tsireya. Thank you for offering. I do not feel good.” Y/N willed Tsireya to disappear so that she could figure out her situation.

“Oh… of course. I will tell Neteyam you cannot make it. I hope you feel better soon, sister.”

The mention of Neteyam’s name almost made Y/N spin around and throw up again. It was partly his fault she had gotten into this mess. Why did he have to be so kind and understanding?

Y/N quietly groaned in frustration as Tsireya walked away. She lay on her back, staring up at the brightly lit sky. Her thoughts weren’t giving her a break to think clearly. Obviously, she could not confide in her parents. She would not be surprised if they threatened to throw her out. Tsireya could not keep a secret for long and Aonung… well, Y/N would never willingly tell him. He would use every chance he got to remind her.

And Y/N dreaded telling Neteyam. He was already having a hard time fitting in, he did not need the trouble of this either. If word of this spread, his family would be outcasted even more than they were already.

She aimlessly wandered the beach, thinking to herself. The pressure of gaining her parents’ approval was becoming all too much.

As expected, Neteyam and Y/N avoided each other. Neteyam thought it was best to leave her alone and give her space to think, which was something he desperately needed as well.

Y/N was feeding her ilu when Tsireya and Aonung approached her. “Sister.” The latter uttered, folding his arms over his chest, “We need to talk.”

Y/N merely sent him a confused glance. “About what?” She questioned.

“Why are you avoiding us?” Tsireya got straight to the point. She huffed. “You never want to swim with us… and you are hardly around. You do not even eat with us. Why?”

Y/N looked away, petting her ilu. “I am busy.” She lied through her teeth. “Mother is encouraging me to oversee the affairs of the village and it is more tiresome than I expected.”

Tsireya faltered, suddenly feeling bad for accusing her older sister. Aonung, on the other hand, was not so easily fooled. He had always been annoyingly good at reading people. But neither of Y/N’s siblings asked any more questions. They simply accepted her answer and left her to tend to her ilu.

A few quiet minutes passed before the wood beneath Y/N creaked. She looked over her shoulder, almost jumping at the sight of Neteyam.

“Sorry.” He muttered. “Just came to check up on my ilu. She’s been more hungry lately.” He sent her a sheepish smile, hurrying over to the creature. Y/N tried not to pay him any attention as she kicked her legs in the water, the cool droplets splashing against her body.

“So… how are you?” Neteyam spoke up. There was an awkward pause. It took Y/N a moment to register his words.

“I am good.” She responded. Neteyam took her short answer as an attempt to ice him out, which he did not blame her for. In reality, though, Y/N was trying to stop herself from exposing her secret. She knew if she kept talking to Neteyam, then his sweet voice would coerce her into revealing everything.

“Right… I’ll see you later, I guess.” Neteyam walked off, rubbing the back of his neck. Y/N tried not to show her hurt at how quickly he left, seeming like he wanted nothing to do with her.

Her ilu nudged its head against Y/N’s thigh, cooing. Y/N sighed as she pet it once more. “What am I going to do?” She murmured. Time was running out and she still had no idea what she was going to do.

She clasped her hands over her belly, sighing as she lowered her head. She rarely ate with her family now, doing everything she could to avoid them. Her siblings and even her parents were bound to become more suspicious; Tsireya was already questioning it and Aonung did not believe any of her lies.

Y/N was a strong girl, both physically and mentally, but she could not handle this. Having to keep such a large secret from her parents and her siblings, whom were her world, and Neteyam was eating at her.

Her attempts to distance the eldest Sully boy from her were becoming harder but the secret could not be revealed. She knew Neteyam would ultimately talk. It was up to her to ensure his family would not be isolated any further.

Y/N’s heartbeat spiked and despite her underwater training, she could not slow it. She placed a hand over her chest, gasping for air. “Shit.” She murmured out a word she had heard Neteyam say, which only sent her further into a spiral.

It was becoming increasingly harder to clear her mind and she suddenly felt uncomfortable in her own skin. Her thoughts exploded into a flurry of negativity.

Her father would be so disappointed in her careless behaviour. And her mother… Y/N almost threw up at the mere thought of Ronal’s look. She would be livid that her perfect daughter, her daughter who consistently kept Aonung out of trouble, her daughter who was the future Tsahik, had engaged in such acts with a forest boy.

She clawed at her skin, trying to rid herself of such thoughts that caused more harm than good. Y/N leaned forward to comfort herself but she ended up diving right into the water purely by mistake. She thought of just staying under the glistening water. It brought her comfort. There was no one talking to her while she was on the verge of a breakdown. It was peaceful.

A hand suddenly grabbed onto her forearm, heaving her up. Y/N spat out a mouthful of water, coughing in surprise. “Aonung!” She exclaimed, slapping her brother’s shoulder. Though, it probably did not hurt him as much as she wanted it to. Aonung was a few months younger than Y/N but had much more muscles.

“Why are you lying in the water?” Aonung questioned as he pulled her back onto the dock. “It is not like you to be so distant. What is the matter?”

To others, particularly the Sully boys, Aonung was mean and a bully and an outright nuisance to be around. But to Y/N, he was sweet. He was Y/N’s sweet little brother who used to come crying to her when he scraped his knee.

“It is none of your concern. I am fine. I am simply stressed.” Y/N reassured him. Unfortunately, her soft words did not have the impact they had on Tsireya.

Aonung narrowed his eyes like he always did when he could tell Y/N was lying. “You are not telling the truth. You can tell me. I will not tell mother or father or even Tsireya. It will be our little secret.”

Y/N stared at her brother then at her shaking hands which had not stopped trembling since she found out she was pregnant. “I am with a child.” She suddenly blurted out.”

Aonung was silent. He opened his mouth to say something but the pair heard a gasp behind them. Y/N quickly looked behind her, partly relieved that it was only Tsireya. She had been holding a bowl of fruits, which were now rolling around in the floor.

“I am sorry.” She immediately apologised, covering her mouth with her hands. “I did not mean to eavesdrop. I just wanted to bring you some fruit so you would feel better.” She quickly crouched down to pick everything up. “Is it true… are you really?”

Tsireya sat on the other side of Y/N. Aonung swiftly reached over, grasping a piece of fruit despite Y/N’s look. She had always told him not to eat anything from the floor.

“Yes.” She hesitated.

“Damn, who knocked you up?” Aonung carelessly asked. Tsireya clicked his tongue, her long tail slapping him.

“Do not, Aonung.” She warned. “We will not tell anyone, Y/N. Do not pressure yourself into telling us the dad. We will let you take your time.”

“It’s Neteyam.” Y/N blurted out. She could not contain it anymore. Beside her, she heard Aonung choke. Y/N promptly slapped his back.

“Neteyam?!” Aonung exclaimed but Tsireya and Y/N both hushed him. “Mother and Father will not be happy.”

Y/N sent him a glare, “I am aware.” She muttered.

“Wait, this is good. This will top anything else I do. Father will be like, ‘Aonung, why did you slap Lo’ak?’ And then I’ll just reply with ‘well, remember when Y/N got pregnant?’” Aonung faced his sisters only to be met with their unimpressed faces.

“Aonung, take this seriously.” Tsireya hissed, resting her hands on Y/N’s shoulders. “Whatever you do, Y/N, we will be here to support you.”

Neteyam was not doing any better. The last few days had felt like a constant test on his patience. His father was always ordering him around and Lo’ak was getting on his nerve.

The last straw was when Jake had decided to scold Neteyam for Lo’ak’s actions. Neteyam had returned from the docks, still wondering as to why Y/N was suddenly acting so cold. He tried to forget that night, to move past it, but it was easier said than done. Y/N seemed to be everywhere Neteyam was.

The oldest Sully boy walked into their hut, exhausted and fully prepared to collapse. However, when he saw Jake standing in front of Lo’ak, his father’s arms crossed sternly over his chest, Neteyam almost groaned. Neytiri and Kiri were inside as well, exchanging worried glances. Tuk was nowhere to be seen, most likely playing with her newfound friends.

“Neteyam.” Jake said. Neteyam dragged himself to stand beside Lo’ak, his back straightening.

“Yes, sir?” Neteyam murmured, wanting to get this over and done with so he could tend to his own thoughts.

“Your brother got into another fight today.” Jake uttered. “Where were you? You’re supposed to keep an eye on him.”

“I was busy, sir.”

“Why weren’t you with your brother? Sully’s have to stick together.“

Neteyam, who had been trying to hold down his bubbling anger, suddenly snapped. “I wasn’t with my brother because it’s not my job to keep him in check.” It was the first time Neteyam had ever talked back. His ears flattened down, an action he didn’t usually do but had started doing because of Y/N. “What Lo’ak does with his spare time should be none of my concern. It is not my fault he fights every day.”

“Yeah, but you’re the older brother. It’s your responsibility to look out for him.” Jake poked Neteyam’s chest, causing everything to come crashing down. Neteyam, who had been trying so hard to hide his fury at how unfairly he was being treated, broke.

“It is none of my responsibility! I can’t be everywhere with Lo’ak, babysitting him! You forced me away from my home, from the forest in which I grow up in. I know nothing here! I am simply too busy trying to fit in to watch over Lo’ak! He is not the only one who needs comfort. I am still a teenager! Have you ever asked how I feel?!” Neteyam didn’t waste a heartbeat in spinning around, storming off. His swishing tail hit a bowl, causing it to fall. It did not break but Neteyam wouldn’t have cared anyway.

Neteyam left his parents and his siblings in shock at his outburst. He always took the blame for Lo’ak, what had changed?

Kiri quickly followed after Neteyam. Lo’ak, with a small nod from Jake, followed.

“Ma Jake,” Neytiri reached out for her mate, “What is wrong with Neteyam? He has been acting strange lately.” Jake held her hand, staring at the spot where Neteyam had been standing moments ago.

Jake wasn’t stupid. He saw how Neteyam’s gaze always found its way to stare at the Chief’s oldest daughter. He had been 16 once upon a time; it did not take long for Jake to form a suspicion.

“Neteyam!” Kiri grabbed her brother’s wrist, forcing him to turn around. “What is the matter with you? You have been acting so moody lately.” She pouted.

“Nothing!” Neteyam harshly insisted. “I am not acting moody.” Lo’ak caught up with his older brother but remained silent, knowing Neteyam’s anger was a result of his recklessness.

“My idiot brother, why must you be so stubborn?” Kiri groaned, “You are like Y/N sometimes, so hardheaded and annoyingly independent.”

Her name set Neteyam’s face alight. A dark blush spread across his cheeks. “She is the problem.” He finally admitted. “Y/N is.”

“Did she reject you or something?” Lo’ak voiced, arching an eyebrow.

Neteyam wished she did. This situation would have been much easier. “No… Y/N and I, we…” Neteyam trailed off, suddenly embarrassed.

Kiri got the hint. She slapped his shoulder. “You did not!” She hissed. “She is the Chief’s daughter!” Lo’ak stood beside Kiri, ever so clueless.

“What? What did they do? He didn’t even finish his sentence. You guys are acting like they”- Lo’ak paused, “Oh. I get it now.”

“It was an impulsive decision.” Neteyam uttered as he resumed walking.

“One that will get you killed.” Kiri added. “You are lucky she is not betrothed yet. Have you talked to her?”

“Briefly. She does not wish to speak to me.” Neteyam was met with another slap from Kiri.

“Idiot! She must be lonely. You must speak to her so that you can resolve this!”

Neteyam groaned, walking faster in hopes his siblings would leave him alone. “She avoids me.” He said to Kiri. “I told you, she doesn’t want to see me.”

“Then try harder to talk to her! Y/N is as stubborn as you. Do you not see the pattern?!” Kiri yanked Neteyam back, “You must tell Father and Mother.”

Neteyam scoffed. “I have caused enough trouble already. I will do no such thing.”

“You are foolish. If Tonowari and Ronal find out, Father will be able to calm them. If you do not tell, then at least speak to Y/N.”

Neteyam exasperatedly sighed. “Fine. I will talk to her. Happy?” He wandered off, leaving Kiri and Lo’ak behind. He knew where to find Y/N. During her spare time, she was always at the docks, playing with her ilu or swimming.

“Do you not ever move from this spot?” Neteyam spoke as he halted behind Y/N, who was sitting where he suspected. He saw her back tense up.

“No. I have moved. To eat. I came back.” Y/N was careful with her responses. One stumble and she’d end up spilling everything.

“Kiri says I should talk to you.” Neteyam muttered as he sat beside her, dipping his feet into the water. Y/N turned to face him, staring with wide eyes.

“You told Kiri?”

“And Lo’ak.” Neteyam’s reply did not ease her panic. “But I suspect you told Tsireya and Aonung.”

Y/N nodded. “I cannot hide anything from them for long.” In truth, Y/N had returned to the docks to mentally prepare herself for telling her mother. She could hide the sudden pregnancy but her body could not. It would start to show.

“How are you feeling?” Neteyam questioned.

“Stupid.”

Neteyam lowly chuckled, staring down at his hands. “Kiri is advising me to tell Mother and Father. But I do not want to do it without your permission.” Y/N almost melted at how sweet and considerate Neteyam was.

“I do not mind.” She muttered, “As long as they do not spread the word.” It was not Neteyam who would get the harsher punishment anyway. As the daughter of the clan leaders, Y/N had a standard to uphold. She had failed after managing to balance it for so long.

After a much needed talk, Neteyam and Y/N parted ways. The latter slowly walked into the medical hut where she found her mother grinding leaves. “Mother.” Y/N said, hands clasped in front of her. Ronal hummed, too busy with her task at hand. “I have something rather important to tell you.”

“What is it, child? Could it not wait until after dinner?”

“I am pregnant.” Y/N quickly said, half heartedly hoping she had spoken too fast for her mother to understand her. Ronal paused. The leaves she had been holding previously fluttered the floor.

“You are pregnant… by who?” Ronal was trying to keep calm.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her head lowered. “Neteyam.” She whispered.

Ronal hissed in anger. “You allowed this?! When he is not your mate?!”

“I did not mean to, mother.” Y/N insisted, stepping forward.

Ronal thought for a second. “We must find you a mate.” She announced after what felt like an hour.

“But what about Neteyam?” Y/N frowned, “He is the father! Does he not deserve to know?”

“He is not Metkayina.” Ronal almost sneered, “If word of this gets out, it will create a scandal. Your father and I will find you a suitable mate.” Her mother turned to walk away but Y/N desperately grabbed onto her arm.

“No… please… mother, do not make me do this! I want him to be the father! I do not want any other idiotic boy!”

Ronal softly caressed Y/N’s face as small tears dripped down her cheeks. She finally allowed herself to cry after holding everything in. “I am sorry, my child, but it is for the best.”

Y/N abruptly straightened her back. “No.” She firmly refused, surprising Ronal. “I have been the perfect daughter for you and Father. Do I not receive a reward in return?”

“You have a baby without a mate. I could hardly call that a reward.”

“Why will you not allow me to decide? You say it is for the best but do you really want to live the rest of your life knowing I am miserable? Will you put me through that just to keep your reputation? Is your reputation among the clan more important than your own daughter’s happiness?!” Y/N had not inherited Tsireya’s gentleness nor Aonung’s ego. She had inherited her mother’s temper.

“Listen to me, child, they will leave sooner or later. They will not stay here, no matter how much Neteyam will claim he loves you.”

“Then I will pay the price. Let me do this, mother. I have already suffered enough. I cannot do it again.”

Ronal narrowed her eyes. “Come.” She beckoned her daughter out of the hut. Y/N did not ask where Ronal was leading her; she simply followed behind.

Ronal’s sudden appearance in the Sully Family’s hut caused them to quiet down. Neteyam shared a look with Y/N, confused.

“It seems my daughter has found herself… involved with your eldest son.” Ronal spoke, sending Y/N a subtle glare. Y/N chewed the inside of her cheek. “This is not the Metkayina way but unfortunately, she is pregnant.”

Chaos broke out. Jake spat out a mouthful of water while Neytiri coughed to hide the fact that she had almost choked in shock. Lo’ak muffled his loud laughs as a look of horror crossed Neteyam’s face. Kiri quietly clicked her tongue, staring at her eldest brother.

“For some unknown reason, my daughter wishes for Neteyam to be the father. I will allow this if your son proves to me that he will be able to provide for Y/N. She is the future Tsahik and I will allow only the best for her. That is all.” Ronal walked away, expecting Y/N to follow.

“You knocked up the Chief’s daughter?” Jake said as soon as the two Metkayina women were gone. Lo’ak could finally freely laugh while Neteyam shoved him.

“Shut up.” He muttered, standing to run after Y/N.

514 notes · View notes

vividxpages · 3 months ago

Text

°‧⋆.࿔*:･ ocean-touched, sun-kissed･: * ࿔. ⋆‧°

pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader

words: 5400

summary: Jacaerys and you are on vacation with his family. A shared shower before dinner is tempting you to indulge in your constant hunger for each other.

warnings: modern au, established relationship, domestic fluff, vacation bliss, making out, sexual content, oral (f receiving), gentle smut

a/n: this can be read as a standalone, but the story takes place after “no parents, big house”.

Thank you for the love this little story has been getting, it means a lot to me! <3

-⋆ ˚｡⋆୨🐚🌊🍹୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

In this summer, you started to believe you were meant to be loved under the sun, surrounded by the perfect blue of the sea and your love, Jacaerys.

Jace and you had been inseparable for the past few days, insufferable with how clingy and happy you were in each other’s presence.

Having been invited to join the Targaryen-Strong’s vacation had its many perks.

After a long flight where you mostly had been napping against Jace’s arm, you had found a paradise of sandy beaches and clear blue sea waiting for you.

You were sharing a master bedroom like his parents did - a luxury compared to his twin size bed back at home, although you were always gravitating towards each other anyways.

So far, you had woken up every morning and gone to sleep together every night, the sunny meantime filled with laughter and kisses that tasted like the cocktails you drank, endless dinners by the ocean and late-night talks in the dark. You went on walks by the ocean, collecting seashells and little stones that matched each other’s eye color, him always taking pictures with his polaroid camera of you. And you of him, determined to keep every single one forever.

You had sat on his shoulders while battling his siblings in a fierce water war. You had swayed together in the privacy of your room, your lips trying to seek out and kiss every little freckle of his that the sun brought out. And you had spent time with his family, going snorkeling and shopping in the local small town, selecting friendship bracelets for each other.

It was a good summer.

The day was sluggishly drifting along, the high temperature making it impossible to be productive. Jace and you had gotten some light lunch at the beach club near the holiday home and taken a quick dip into the ocean before walking back to nap by your own private pool.

Now, you were laying together on a big lounge bed by the pool, naked legs tangled together, his sun-kissed skin warm against yours. Both of your swimwear was still drying from earlier and you sighed happily as you laid with your head on his chest, one of his arms slung around you while the other rested on your waist. To your feet waited your open book and a plate of half-eaten watermelon you had shared before falling asleep.

It was adorable how sleepy Jace could get after a good snack, the butterflies in your stomach doing an extra round as your eyes fluttered open and you watched him sleep. His dark curls were slicked back, a little frizzy from the sea salt and your hand ached to run your fingers through them. Jace looked angelic underneath the sun umbrella, his relaxed face so close to yours, you could feel his even huffs of air against your cheek and count the freckles on his nose.

You quietly smiled to yourself.

You were happy, young and in love with the most beautiful and kind boy you knew and you were granted two full weeks by his side underneath the warm summer sun by the sea. Everything was perfect until you suddenly heard the sharp whispers of his younger brothers drawing near.

They were arguing with each other, excitement and mischief in their voices and as you sleepily blinked at them over your shoulder, they froze, caught in the act.

“We thought you were sleeping.” Joffrey whispered, not even hiding his disappointment.

“You have to be quieter than that to not wake me.” You whispered back and his shoulders slumped, the twins still giggling with each other behind him. On the other side of the pool, Luke was snoring on his own sunchair, his ears covered by headphones.

Joffrey gestured to the sand bucket in his hands, the water in it splashing a little onto the hot stone floor. “We found a jellyfish and wanted to give it to Jace, to prank him.”

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips and you put your sunglasses back on, slowly and carefully slipping out of Jace’s embrace. He made a small noise in his sleep, his subconsciousness not happy over your familiar warmth vanishing, but yet letting him continue to nap.

You tiptoed to his younger brothers, taking the small bucket from their hands and glimpsing into it. You raised a finger to your lips and slowly walked back to your napping spot, silently setting the bucket down in front of Jace’s face.

The twins behind your back gasped in excitement and you grinned, brushing back your boyfriend’s stray curls, softly talking to him. “Jacey…time to wake up, my love…”

He stirred, a croaky groan getting stuck in his throat as he furrowed his brows and opened his pretty eyes. Jacaerys found himself face to face with a big gooey jellyfish and the sight of you and his brothers laughing as you saw his confused face. He shuffled backwards, pushing the bucket away.

Your eyes met and you could tell you might’ve made a grievous mistake, having conspired against him like this.

“They made me do it!” You grinned, harmlessly raising your arms in defense as he fixated you with a dark stare, an idea coming up in his mind. Directed to his brothers, you said: “Alright now, get this poor thing back in the ocean where it belongs before your parents see, come on.”

Jace sat up, stretching his limbs, his eyes darkening playfully. “You know I would’ve expected such a joke from my little brothers, but you, my love? I’m deeply wounded.”

He slowly rose from your napping spot and you took a step backwards on the warm stone plates, the sparkling mischief in his eyes making you giggle nervously. When Jacaerys looked at you like this, nothing good could follow…

“I think…” He took a sudden step into your direction and a funny feeling shot through your stomach at his predatory stare. “I might have to get revenge for that…”

Joffrey and the twins burst apart with a collective sneak, quickly retreating as he lunged for you. You let out a screech, heedlessly running around the pool’s edge as he chased you around it. You heard his laughter echo across the Mediterranean walls, the laughter of a man who knew he had already won and before you could outrun him, he snatched you by the waist-

“Jacaerys-!”

- and jumped into the pool with you.

Water crashed together over your heads and you clung to Jace’s body underneath it, weightless and trusting. He found you quickly, holding you against him as you came up, sputtering and laughing at the cool shock of the pool’s water.

He shook out his wet hair and you squealed.

“You could’ve warned me!” You splashed some water at him, but he only held you tighter and laughed with you, walking you backwards in the refreshing deep. Your legs found their way around his waist on their own, hugging him close to you like a koala baby would.

“I could say the same thing.” He shot back, his hand caressing your bum and supporting you, and then you were getting kissed against the wall of the pool. His free hand softly held the back of your head, making sure you weren’t hitting the hard stone as he ravished your mouth, him tasting like sugar and watermelon on your tongue.

Cool water drops coated your lips as you lazily slung your arms around his neck, gasping quietly as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

“Eww, stop it, you’re going to drown!” Joffrey screamed at you from the pool’s edge. “Mooom!”

Jace and you broke apart, laughing with each other as you hid your face in his neck, playing with his wet hair and relishing your closeness underneath the water surface.

“We’re fine, Joff.” Jace told his brother, nuzzling your neck one last time before you looked up and spotted his mother.

Rhaenyra stood on one of the balconies, fondly looking down on her sons. “We are all going to a restaurant tonight. Be ready in two hours and for the love of the gods, someone please push Luke’s chair out of the sun.”

You pressed one final cool kiss to the tip of Jace’s nose before he walked you two over to the shallow end, gently setting you down on your feet again. You walked out of the pool together, him holding your hand so you wouldn’t slip and draping your fluffy beach towel around your shoulders.

You both looked at each other through the wet strands of your hair.

Jace stroked the side of your waist, collecting your book and his bag. “Want to go take a shower?”

You could never say no to a suggestion like that.

When you entered yours and Jace’s bedroom, the playful atmosphere by the pool had shifted into something heavy, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine, your mind having been tricked into believing there was going to be more after a heated kiss like that.

The glowing afternoon sun painted your room golden and Jace’s eyes were shining like liquid amber as they rested on you, draping the towel around you over the chair in the corner. You turned to him, suddenly very aware of your dripping wet bikini, a particular nice pair you owned that Jace loved to take off of you whenever he could.

“Do you want to go shower first?” You asked him innocently.

He brushed his hair back with both hands, his muscled arms on full display for you. You swallowed. When had it gotten this hot in the room?

He shrugged; eyes sparkling. “I thought we could save some water and go together?.” His swimming shorts were steadily dripping onto the floor, but neither of you cared.

“Such a brilliant idea.” You breathed, reaching behind your back to unclasp your bikini top.

But as if he couldn’t have that, Jace was there, leading you to the big mirror next to your bed, a beautiful detail to the room you had already been using to your advantage every night…

Your breath faltered as he stepped behind you, letting you look at yourself as he brushed your wet hair over your shoulder, delivering a small kiss to it. His eyes were not leaving yours in the reflection as he skillfully unclasped your top and began to sensually kiss your neck, a small moan escaping you as you tilted your head to the side, becoming putty in his caring hands.

You held your breath, biting your lip in bliss as he slid his warm hands over your form, feather-lightly caressing the side of your breasts before his arms came around you. A sun-kissed embrace. It was getting hard to think clearly as you listened to the sound of his mouth on your jaw and neck, traveling indulgently over your skin and searching for your sweet spots he knew so well.

You did not know how, but somehow you managed to stumble into the bathroom without tripping. You quickly turned around and kissed him like your life depended on it, your bikini top falling carelessly to the floor with a wet sound.

His eyes darkened as he looked up and down your silhouette, the warm light of the bathroom making it seem like you were shimmering for him. And you did, beaming under his attentive gaze, almost forgetting that you came here with the intention to get clean.

You had thought before that Jace’s shower at home was big, but this one was ridiculously enormous. There was enough space for the two of you to comfortably stand in it together, with a little stone bench in the corner and a big rainforest shower head above you. To be clear; the perfect playground for lovers.

Your chest tightened adoringly as you watched him making sure the water was the right temperature before he took your hand and pulled you against him under the spray, your chest pressed against his as he hugged you. You simply held each other for a while as the salt and sand was washed away from your bodies.

Jace and you shared some achingly sweet kisses, your hands exploring each other’s naked and wet bodies, one of his arms always steadily around your waist as your fingers ran up and down his chest, feeling his heart beat wildly underneath your touch.

There was no rush in your actions and yet you made out more fiercely now, the memory of sleeping together yesterday night already fading and needing to be refreshed…

You quietly laughed against his lips as he struggled to push off his wet swim shorts, helping him eagerly to get rid of them before you gently cupped his bulge, a sharp gasp being torn from his throat by your bold move.

He leaned back against the wall, exhaling shakily and his head hitting the tiles with a quiet thud as you began to kiss his neck, your tongue licking over his skin. You distracted him with those deep kisses until your fingertips trailed down his toned stomach and brushed against him, his dick twitching at the small contact.

You smiled against his neck, shushing him sweetly as he whined, your fingers finally wrapping around him and slowly beginning to jerk him off. He bit his lip, but his little moans and whines were stronger, echoing across the shower cell, heat pooling between your legs at his loss of control over himself.

“I’ve been wanting you all day...” You whispered into his ear, your nails scratching lightly over his skull and he gasped as you twisted your wrist around him.

“Please, baby, ah-“ He broke off, shaking his head like he was trying to fight it. You watched every little reaction crossing his pretty face as you continued, varying between slow strokes and gentle twists of your hand, knowing the mix it needed to get him off like you knew yourself.

You leaned closer, breathing heavily yourself, kissing his chest and sucking on the sensitive side of his neck.

But just before he could spill and finish into your hand, Jacaerys grit his teeth, fought off the haze you brought on him and grabbed you, effortlessly hoisting you up and pushing you against the shower tiles.

You let out a surprised gasp, your hands scrambling for his shoulders as he rolled his hips forward and ground his dick against your core, barely covered by the wet bikini you were still wearing.

Jace and you moaned in sync, looking at each other through wide and cloudy eyes.

One of his hands braced itself on the wall behind you and your hand flew up to grasp it as he continued his sweet assault on you, nearly making you forget your own name until it was your turn to beg for him now.

“God, you feel good…” Jace moaned, his head dropping on your shoulder before he captured your mouth with his again. “So lovely, all for me…”

Your original plan to get ready for dinner efficiently was thrown carelessly out of the window, completely forgotten and vanished as hot friction shot through your nerves, making you whimper and hold on tightly to his shoulders.

You clung to him, planning on never letting him go again as he peppered kisses on your skin. His mouth trailed down your collarbone before he sucked one of your breasts into his mouth, his hot tongue swirling around the sensitive bud that ached for him. You almost did not notice how he was walking out of the shower with you in his arms.

Your head was spinning with dizziness, having to blink a few times to see the bathroom disappearing behind you, the steady drip of water trailing along with the two of you.

“Jace, what are you- don’t trip!” You squeaked and clung to him, a hoarse chuckle escaping him as you buried your face in his neck and held on for dear life. One of his hands soothingly stroked your back.

“We’re going to get the bed all wet.” You protested weakly, not able to pretend like you weren’t absolutely thrilled by this side of him, carrying you wherever he wanted like you weighed nothing and deciding he needed you in a bed instead of quickly and rushed in the shower.

Jacaerys let you down gently, placing you among the disheveled sheets you had woken up in this morning. You had slept in long, letting the sunbeams tickle you awake through the window, cuddling without a care in the world and the bed suddenly looked like it now.

The white blankets and pillows welcomed your naked body and you felt like you were resting on a cloud with the way Jace came to kneel over you, breathing heavily with wide pupils, his dark eyes exploring your glistening body silently. You bit your lip, embers swirling in your stomach, feeling the sheets under you turning drenched. Little water drops were raining down from his hair tips, landing on your thigh.

He looked like an angel and your heart nearly beat out of your chest, knowing he was yours.

“The summer sun suits you, my love.” He murmured, lost in your sight underneath him.

He lifted one finger and followed down the tan line of your bikini top, your chest rising and falling faster as his pointy finger reached one of your nipples, lazily drawing circles around the rosy bud.

You let out a tiny grunt as he hummed appreciatively as it got harder underneath his touch, one warm hand splayed on your tummy to feel you squirming.

A loving smile tugged at the corners of his plump lips, the hunger for him achingly flaring up in you. “You look like you’ve been kissed by the sea.”

“I’d rather get kissed by you.” You confessed, gasping when he suddenly bent down and placed an open-mouthed kiss on your stomach, his tongue briefly dipping into your belly button while his lean hands took a hold of your quivering knees.

You watched him, speechless and in awe of your perfect adoring boyfriend and he rested his cheek against your smooth thigh, smiling up to you. “I plan to, don’t worry, love.”

His fingers wandered along the seam of your baby blue bikini bottom, not yet pulling them off. You could feel his breath ghosting over you, mouth falling open from the tiny sensation.

“Is this okay?” His fingers hooked into the sides of your bikini, waiting for you to give him an answer.

“Yes…” You whispered to him, nodding quickly. “More than okay.”

Your hand stroked through his wet curls and a shiver went through his entire body. Like this, he looked like a young prince, dreamy but with fire in his beautiful eyes, focusing only on you. From this angle, you could see his dick throb against his thigh, but the bliss of having you like this seemed to cloud his mind for the moment, making it hard to think.

“Please, Jace.” A whine got stuck in your throat as you wriggled your hips, urging him on to undress you fully. “Kiss me, please, I need you-“

You lifted your hips for him as he slid off the last barrier between the two of you, groaning wantonly when he saw your soaked core, your glistening wetness helplessly leaking into the sheets below you. You clenched around nothing underneath his dark gaze, feeling as if your whole body was on fire and only he could make it better – by adding gasoline to the mix and setting you aflame.

He absently licked his lips, not parting his eyes from your most sensitive parts as he carefully grabbed your legs and spread them, twin kisses pressed to each of your calves as he got comfortable in between them.

He cursed under his breath, flustered and driven by love and lust as he made eye contact with you. “God, you’re so wet for me, baby.”

You hissed when one of his fingers dragged through your folds, spreading your wetness tortuously slowly over your pulsing clit. You squeezed your eyes shut, mouth falling open, hips bucking uncontrollably into his grasp.

If this was his sweet revenge for the jellyfish earlier, you’d make sure to dive into the ocean first thing tomorrow and catch hundreds of them.

Jacaerys slowly began to trace circles on your clit, his fingers achingly soft and slow, exactly how he preferred to get you off. Shuddering little sighs and moans left your lips as he started to kiss your inner thighs and the tightly wound spiral in you drew itself only tighter, ready to snap and send you into sweet oblivion.

While one hand pampered your clit, alternating between featherlight strokes and slow patterns, the other soothed you with gentle touches, caressing your stomach and your chest, never stopping in just one place and always wandering as if it was the first time he explored your body.

“You are so sweet.” Jace murmured and you lifted your head from the fluffy pillows, whimpering needily when you saw him licking his lips in excitement. He placed one of your legs on his shoulder, shuffling even closer and gritting his teeth when his dick dragged over the sheets.

“Tap my shoulder if you need me to stop.” He told you hoarsely and you threw him a look that said absolutely not, never.

He cocked his eyebrow at you and before you could prepare yourself in any way, he softly blew on you, the cool air meeting your hot flesh and sending lightning through every nerve in your body.

Motivated by your surprised mewl, Jace wasted no time anymore and dove in, moaning as he kissed your folds and spread them apart with his tongue, kissing you like he had in the shower earlier, your sweet scent going right into his brain and making him drunk on you.

He took his time with you, attentively eating you out like you were his favorite meal on earth, relishing the act of being so close to your most intimate part. Your hand found his outstretched one, squeezing it tightly as you whimpered from pleasure, sweat collecting at your brow and legs shaking on his shoulders.

He licked you sensually slowly, sucking your clit into his mouth and releasing it with an obscene sound while his burning gaze stayed on you.

You were losing it.

You could not decide if you wanted to close your eyes and give in to this feeling or keep them open to watch his every move.

His lips and chin were glistening, covered in you, and you tried to brace yourself on your elbows to look at him, mouth agape and brows scrunched together as Jace continued to worship you. His soft wet curls were a tickling sensation on your inner thighs whenever you tried to clamp them together, but his bony shoulders were there, keeping you perfectly wide open for him.

“Jace.” Your breath hitched, tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. “More, please. Shit-“

A relieved moan tore through you when he slowly pushed one of his long fingers inside you, breathing heavily in sync with you as your warm walls welcomed him, sucking the familiar digit in. You slumped against the pillows as he nestled his face against your thigh, watching as he slowly began to finger you, your pelvis beginning to move too, meeting every little push of his.

One finger soon became two and he crooked them up just as the right time, making your back arch off the mattress, keening highly towards the ceiling. Everything seemed to melt together as he suckled on your clit, the sounds of his finger sliding in and out of you outright dirty. Combined with his muffled groans and whines at your taste on his tongue, you were catapulted towards an inevitable edge, a familiar abyss ready to welcome you home.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty, baby.” He praised huskily and you clenched down on his fingers, crying out as he licked one fat stripe up your core. He was intoxicating and thought the same of you, his own definition of paradise on earth. He never wanted to let your taste leave his mouth. “So sweet for me…I can tell you’re close, aren’t you?”

“So close.” You sighed in agreement, holding on to his shoulders and trying your best to buck forward and match his rhythm. Occasionally, your fingers would find their way into his hair, tugging at the silky strands and he’d moan right into your cunt, the vibrations making your eyes roll back. The water on your skin had been replaced by a thin layer of sweat and he exhaled sharply as you rode his fingers, seeking out the edge of the mountain, the bottom of his endless sea of love for you.

“I love you, love you so much.” He tried to coax it out of you, encouraging you as he peppered kisses on your sweet rosy cunt. “I want to see you come so badly, my love, I need to feel it-”

The intensity of your peak nearly blinded you and you were sure you were ascending up into the air, only grounded to this world by Jace holding and kissing you through your orgasm. He made it even longer, stronger for you, suckling your clit once more as high whines and whimpers left your lips, a tear escaping your shut eyes and being caught by his thumb.

Little shockwaves still danced through you as you watched him with half-lidded eyes, his hand disappearing to grab himself-

You shook your head, tugging him up and against you by his wet chin. You shivered, hugging him close as he exhaled shakingly, your naked bodies rubbing against each other. You needed him close, needed to melt into one with him and you were not letting him touch himself to completion, not when he had you.

“I need to feel you.” You mumbled, a little out of it, tearily blinking at him as he looked at you like you were an angel having been sent to be his.

“Are you sure?” He looked at you searchingly, brushing back your sweaty hair from your forehead. “I don’t want you to be sore later…”

You cupped his cheek, timidly shaking your head. Your next words were barely a whisper. “I just need you, Jace. Please, make love to me.”

Jace let out a croaky sigh, kissing your fingertips as his own fumbled for a condom on the bedside table. Your hand sneaked down his body, giving his weeping dick some merciful strokes before he rolled on the condom and buried his face in your neck, slowly sinking into your welcoming warm heart.

Your boyfriend moaned so prettily at how tightly you squeezed him, it almost was enough to make you come again.

Jace was utterly overwhelmed, taking a few deep breaths as he let you both adjust to the never tiring sensation of being connected like this. You hummed happily, kissing his temple and stroking his back and he hugged you tightly to him.

He was in heaven as he looked deeply into your eyes, babbling softly how much he loved you and whining when you crossed your legs behind his back and pulled him deeper.

There was no rush in the way you kissed each other, lazily exploring each other’s mouth as he began to move, pulling out the slightest bit before easing forward again, the drag of his dick against your over sensitive walls enough to make you a quivering mess.

“’m not gonna last long…” He confessed, a pretty frown on his forehead, sensually rolling his hips forward as you met him thrust for thrust. “You feel so good, baby, so perfect, all mine…”

“Yours.” You echoed dreamily and then his lips found yours again, feverishly this time and searching, his hips slowly picking up a delicious rhythm, chasing the high he had been suppressing ever since you stood under the showerhead together earlier…

You touched his shoulders, played with his hair as his lashes fluttered, his thrusts losing their pace as he felt it approaching, the storm that was you, ready to sweep him off his feet. A whine tore itself from his throat as you purposefully tightened your muscles around him, one hand buckling under him and flying to your clit where skin slapped against skin and you were still sensitive from your first orgasm.

“Jace-“ You gasped, biting your lip so hard it nearly bled, grinding against him. “Let go, love, I know you’re close, let go for me-“

A dam in Jacaerys broke and with one deep last rock forward, he found his release in you, losing himself entirely in his sweet girl. He groaned long and deep, gasping into the crook of your neck as he slowed his hips, lips ghosting over your skin as he touched you and tried to stop himself from shaking.

You couldn’t help but fall over the edge a second time, your whole body shaken by uncontrollable twitches and imaginary electricity. The two of you clung to each other desperately, riding the high you brought down on one another together until your hips began to slow.

Not ready to let go of each other yet, Jace sighed and rolled down from you, but not without pulling you with him and tucking you safely against him. Humming happily, you draped one leg over his and smiled as he kissed your forehead, your cheek, your jaw.

“You were amazing.” He whispered into the content silence, his eyes full of adoration as he cupped your cheek and kissed your lips. “Was it okay for you? Not…too much?”

You smiled brightly. “It was perfect. I think I saw stars for a moment.”

You giggled as he turned red, hiding his face in your neck, your fingers brushing through his hair. The two of you had dried off by now, only your wet bikini on the floor and his extra curly hair evidence to the shower you had attempted to take.

“I love you.” He breathed, hugging you tightly and stroking your back, lifting you closer with a secure hand on your bum. “I’m so glad you came with me on this trip…”

“Thank you for bringing me…love you too.” You stroked his cheekbone, getting lost in his eyes and the love you shared for each other. He lifted your hand to his mouth and kissed your knuckles, one by one.

Out of the sudden, you frowned and lifted your hand to his neck, fingers brushing over a red spot near his nape. “You got a sunburn, Jace.”

“Oh…” He mumbled, his eyes still closed and happy to just hold you like this for a little while longer. “I’ll live, don’t worry about me.”

“You have to let me apply some of my aloe vera before we go to dinner, okay?” You mumbled back, pressing a small kiss on the burn, making him squirm. “If you start to peel, I’ll sleep elsewhere.”

He let out a displeased tut at that, his strong arms tightening around your waist. “Nu-uh, not letting you…we can just order room service later, who needs a fancy dinner by the beach…”

“I do.” You laughed lightly at his blissed out and carefree smile, softly hitting his chest. “And it would be so rude not to show up. I’ll remind you of your own words later when you overtake yourself at the buffet.”

He hummed considerately, not convinced yet. “I don’t know…staying in bed with you sounds pretty good to me already.”

“We can stay in bed for the whole night.” You argued playfully, knowing exactly how to sell him the deal. “I’m going to wear my sundress later, the one you love so much. Would you want to miss me in it?”

His hand on your hip bone stilled and you giggled victoriously. Got you.

“So…” Jace smiled sheepishly at you, a small blush coloring his freckled cheeks. “Do you want to take a shower then?”

#jace velaryon #jace targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #jace velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys targaryen x reader #jace targaryen x reader #hotd imagine #hotd

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gyummigon · 5 months ago

Text

☆ my days with you (they are always happy)

beomgyu x gn!reader

୨୧ genre: fluff/comfort ୨୧ word count: 4.4k ୨୧ summary: after having a crush on your best friend for months, you have a silly, very silly, confession of feelings. ୨୧ a/n: truth be told, this is a little silly, and cheesy, but I wanted needed to write something that felt easy and refreshing. it's a little longer than i originally thought it would be, but it was fun. hope you like it, have a nice day:))

You liked Beomgyu. You liked him because of the way his eyes sparkled when he hummed his favorite song while doing the dishes, when he collapsed on the bed after an endless list of complaints about how tired he was, or when he spoke with overflowing emotion about the things he liked. You liked him because you found in him a kind of gentleness that you didn't find in the rest of the world, that you didn't think you could get from a man. And the amazing thing is that he was a man, but when you were with him, it was as if you saw the world through the eyes of a child. Eyes that saw happiness and didn't twist it, but made it bigger, spread it out and expanded it until those eyes - brown and deep and enchantingly beautiful - were the last thing left.

Perhaps you were in love with one of your closest friends. Or maybe you were just in the right place.

This thought was even harder to resolve when you arrived at your parents' house that Sunday afternoon, having checked off every single item on your mother's shopping list. You had only been out shopping for an hour, but it was as if you were returning home for the first time after the days out of town you had left behind. You didn't even know when you'd left the bags of groceries at the front door, or when you'd turned back to the garden to see that beaming smile with the wrinkles in the cheeks, let alone when your voice, shaky and too anxious for your taste, uttered an embarrassed "hey".

Beomgyu, who until then had been laughing at a ridiculous joke he had shared with your father, turned to look at you with an enchanting calm that could only be found on a beach at sunset, when the moon was doing its thing and the tide was ebbing in deep, sentimental sighs. The boy seemed to see something you couldn't define on your face, for his smile shrank to a soft, almost shy line.

You didn't take your attention off your face as he approached, hands hidden behind his back, and stopped in front of you. Despite your father's loud voice, the mischievous laughter of your younger siblings, and your mother's scolding of the dog to keep it away from the meat ready for roasting, the only thing you found yourself paying attention to was the disturbingly fast beating of your heart.

"Hey," you repeated, no less awkwardly. "What is this, I travel for a few weeks and suddenly my family has already adopted you?"

Beomgyu kept his shy smile and leaned against one of the wooden boards of the porch for a moment. His checkered shirt billowed slightly in the soft summer breeze.

"I think it's your father who decided to adopt me. He says I'm the exact representation of his youth: charming, talented, and outrageously beautiful."

"I think he says that to every young person he meets."

"Are you saying I shouldn't believe him?"

You didn't know when you started smiling, but your cheeks were sure to hurt if you didn't relax the muscles in your face soon.

"No, I'm just saying my father talks too much."

"A sincere and open man, I like him."

"As sincere as a politician in an election debate."

Beomgyu laughed and looked out into the garden, where your father was still sitting in a folding chair with a scowl on his face, trying to light the wood-burning barbecue. In a measured, polite voice that you didn't know he could have and that almost made you want to mock him, Beomgyu offered to help; but when your father looked up and - in the most millennial, bland way possible - gave him a thumbs-up before shouting a friendly "I've got it under control, son," for some stupid, irrational, and probably childish reason, you blushed. You blushed badly.

What the hell, since when did your father call Beomgyu "son"? And since when did your family normally invite one of your friends to join them on Burger Sunday? Was that your mother putting another plate on the table? Was that what Beomgyu did while you were away? Eat your burger in your place?

Beomgyu seemed to read the thoughts embodied in your expression very well, because he laughed softly and lifted a shoulder with an unseemly shyness. Surely, that's how you had captivated them all.

You little harpy.

And yet, to see him as vibrant and jovial as when you left was like a Band-Aid that lightened the burden of stress you'd endured these past few days. When you arrived in town last Thursday night, the first thing you thought of was to look for him, but the idiot had gotten sick from drinking bad milk and had begged you not to visit him until his diarrhea was over. He hadn't texted you since the night before, and you were beginning to think he'd dropped his phone in the toilet during one of his diarrhea attacks, but what you didn't expect was to find him at your house on your way home from the supermarket, nor did you expect to feel the way you felt: nervous, with words thought but never spoken, with desires intensified but more terrifying than ever.

"So... how was the convention that starved you for almost a month?"

You looked up as your younger brother ran past you, the dog not far behind. Before reaching the short stairs that led into the house, Beomgyu scooped your brother up in his arms and spun him around in the air before setting him down and encouraging him back to where your parents were. Your brother ran off with the dog behind him.

You blinked.

"It was a month of physical pain. I didn't know what an international accounting convention would be like until I went to one. I thought it would be like the boring lectures we had in high school and college, but apparently businessmen have fun with taxes and returns."

Beomgyu snorted in amusement and shoved his hands into his pants pockets as he turned to lean against the railing, looking you in the eye with that sweet smile of his.

"I missed you."

"Oh, did you?" you asked, keeping a neutral expression on your face as you raised an eyebrow. Despite your coolness, it wasn't hard to notice a slight blush spreading across your cheeks. It wasn't that you had been away from him for a long time, you had been apart for months at other times, but there was something different about his words this time that made you wonder if he really missed you or if he missed you the way you felt.

"Is that why you snuck into my house as an undercover usurper?"

"See, I've been taking over your family members one by one," he said with mock seriousness as he gave you an exaggerated look. But then the mischievous smile returned to his face, and he took a step closer. "What's the matter with you, aren't you going to confess that you missed me, that you were writhing in agony without my presence?"

"You've been texting me almost every day for the past three weeks, Beomgyu. I don't know how I could have missed you."

Her lips curled into a pout of indignation as she frowned. You noticed that one of his hands was on the railing, inches from yours. "That's really cruel. He was really unhappy."

"Right, how's your diarrhea?"

"Uhmm," he hummed, and from a distance you could tell he was trying to maintain a disinterested expression as he looked away. "I'm a feisty guy, you know? A diet based on soda crackers and oral electrolytes and puf, good as new. Why, are you going to make fun of me? Because let me tell you, you won't make me suffer as much as Yeonjun and Soobin already have."

"Diarrhea teasing is not my strong point."

Beomgyu let out a gasping, feigned sigh and placed his right hand over his heart, his eyes dramatically wide. "Is this empathy real, is it possible you'll come back a little softer?"

You snorted and shook your head. You couldn't remember when last summer had been like this: quiet conversations, laughter, and a silence that seemed somehow comfortable even when tension was building between you. You had forgotten the ease that had always existed between the two of you. You used to hate these months of excessive heat and aimless days, but ever since you met Beomgyu, you begged for every chance to laugh together, no matter the season.

"I'm not going to laugh," you said, lowering your eyes to your hands. You were about to say something else, but the words died in your mouth as he moved even closer, sliding his hand over yours on the railing.

You nearly choked on your own saliva. God, why did you get so nervous, didn't you just talk about diarrhea a few seconds ago?

You said nothing, and neither did he, but you watched his cautious, anxious expression before looking down again at your joined hands with his hand: yours flattened against the light wood, covered by his slender fingers and the soft, delicate pads of his thumbs, almost always rough and calloused from constant use of his guitar. His hand was warm, and you felt your heart flutter as he ran his thumb over the knuckles of your hand. It was a gentle, casual, maybe even innocent gesture, but it felt like a million fireworks on the skin of your hand.

"I... I thought about you while I was away."

He didn't answer, he just turned to look at you, and you couldn't help but feel your heart beat faster when you saw the look on his face. His smile was still there, but it had changed, it had become softer, and you felt like it was the only thing you could hold onto to keep from blurting out the pile of words that had begun to form on the tip of your tongue.

"It's stupid, isn't it?" you added, trying not to notice the butterflies fluttering in your stomach as his fingers brushed harder against yours, as if encouraging you to speak, to spit out the words before they bloated your stomach and turned you into a useless ball of desire and... God, weren't those lips so beautiful? "I've missed you. I've missed you all week."

"All month?" He corrected quietly, and you just rolled your eyes as you tilted your head toward the floor and kicked an invisible rock.

"I guess I miss you every day since I met you."

Even though you saw his smile widen out of the corner of your eye, he didn't respond right away, and that made the knot of apprehension in your chest grow. However, the wave of fear dissipated as soon as it came. His thumb was right on your pulse, probably sensing the way it had quickened for him. His touch was tender, nothing more than the gentle pressure of his thumb against your skin, but you were so mesmerized by the soft gesture that you barely noticed when he took a step closer, his body so close to yours that it was as if you were enveloped in the soft scent of his cologne. It felt like a secret moment, the way that even with your whole family gathered around the grill preparing dinner and the two of you, separated by the noise, just a few feet away, you didn't seem to notice anything but each other's presence.

"Tell me more about it." His voice was lower, softer, sending shivers down your spine.

"You want me to talk about how I missed you?"

He bit his lip as he gave you a mischievous, perhaps very silly smile and... No, it definitely wasn't the smile of someone who wanted to grab your heart and run away, was it? Because, hell, it felt like that.

You forced yourself to look away from his lips. Nothing could make you stupider. Nothing could make you freak out more. You had to avoid them, avoid the madness. But it was in vain, a deluded attempt to escape the traps of your heart, because just as you looked into his eyes, he dropped his gaze to your mouth for a moment, and you were convinced he could feel your pulse fluttering under his thumb. He took another step. Now he was close enough to push your back against the railing, his hand fully clenched over yours, and his eyes lost on your lips, begging you to speak up and do something stupid.

And so you did.

"I... I can tell you how I think of you when I see something funny. Or something frighteningly beautiful. Like those pink sunrises we barely see if we're not lazy and stay in bed till noon. Or two cats curled up on the sidewalk. Not that I want to cuddle with you, mind you... Well, it's not that I don't want to. The point is, cats are cute. Like you."

With a grimace, you paused to take it in and then forced yourself to pretend you hadn't said that. But you were strong, and you didn't let yourself stop, because you had already screwed up, and you knew that if you didn't say those words right then, you could never say them again.

"Today I was surprised to see you with my father, laughing and joking, when my father doesn't laugh with any boy who is related to me. Then I was even more surprised that it felt so intimate, so familiar, so close. I don't know if it was like one of those equations that I know at first glance will make me lose my mind and want to give up life at the slightest attempt to solve it, or one of those formulas that, even unsolved, look like one of the most beautiful in the mathematical world. Yes, I... I just made a metaphor using the words "beautiful" and "mathematical" in the same sentence. Okay, okay, stop laughing. It's just... You laughing with my father, what a disaster. What a disaster to realize that every aspect of my life likes you and what a disaster that every aspect of my life clings to you so much. I think that's why I miss you even when we're close. I don't want there to be any distance between us.

There it was, you said it. Done. Now you could breathe. Now your heart could relax a little, take a blanket and wait for the rainbow or the misfortune. It could go get a bunch of duct tape and Band-Aids or get naked and pole dance around an artery. It could get a funeral box or start believing that it's immortal. And it all depended on the guy in front of you.

Beomgyu's gaze was soft, as soft and gentle as the scenarios that automatically began to form in your head when you saw the mixture of surprise and tenderness that ran through his expression when you finished speaking. He looked down at his hands clasped against yours and exhaled a laugh that came out a little shaky. Then he returned to your gaze and stood there, silently studying you.

"I want to answer you," he whispered, "but I want to make sure I find the right words.

Idiot.

You tried very hard to keep a serene expression on your face, as if your world wasn't hanging by a thread. Then he did something you'd never seen before: he swallowed spit, his gaze sliding down to linger on your lips for a moment before returning to your eyes and swallowing again. "Wait a minute," he said hoarsely.

Without warning, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing against the railing as you struggled to catch your breath.What the hell had that been? You watched as he walked over to the garden table, grabbed a soda, then walked back over to you and leaned against the railing next to you.

He cleared his throat, took a sip, then looked back at you.

"Are you kidding me?" there was a mix of emotions in your voice, amusement, confusion, embarrassment, insecurity, indignation..., the urge to grab the soda can from him and bash his head with it.

Beomgyu blinked, seemingly surprised by your statement, then laughed, his mouth twisting into a smile that felt like a prize.

"What?" he asked, his eyes flashing. You tightened your mouth and he laughed even harder. "I can't believe you just said that!"

"What an asshole," you muttered, nudging his side.

He laughed, but his arms shot out to hold you, just as your nudge knocked him off balance for a moment. His hands wrapped around your arms and he straightened up, but he didn't let go of you or wipe that goofy grin off his face. You struggled to keep up the gesture of annoyance, though it didn't work very well when he pulled you to him.

"I... I'm actually pretty nervous."

His gaze had dropped to your mouth again, and when it came back up to meet your eyes, he bit his lip. His gaze was intense, as if he was struggling to find the right words to say whatever it was he was thinking. He let go of your arms to lean against the railing next to you, keeping his distance so close that your shoulder was trapped between his right arm and his side.

"I want to kiss you, but your dad is right behind me and I'm afraid he'll leave me without a burger," he joked, but his laugh came out too quickly and you realized he was really nervous. His gaze landed on your mouth again and he held it there for what seemed like an eternity before he let out a loud breath and closed his eyes. You were still processing the fact that the words "I want to kiss you" had just come out of his mouth.

"I'm sure you can live without a hamburger, Beomgyu."

His gaze returned to your mouth and your heart skipped a beat as he came even closer. Now he was so close you could feel his breath caressing your lips as he brought his hand to your waist to pull you even closer, and his lips - so soft, so tantalizing, and so agonizingly close to yours - parted and they were about to say something when suddenly your father's voice boomed across the yard.

"Hey, guys," he said in a hoarse voice. "Dinner's almost ready."

The sound of his voice made you jump, and you were surprised at how quickly Beomgyu turned away, taking several steps back and moving as far away from you as possible. His face was red and he held his arms carefully at his sides as your father looked up at the two of you.

"Is everything okay here? You two looked very... lovey-dovey," your father joked, his eyes narrowing as he watched both of your reddened faces and Beomgyu desperately trying to act normal.

"Eh-" Beomgyu opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. He opened and closed his mouth as if he was struggling to come up with an excuse. Your father, who was now smiling broadly, looked from Beomgyu to you and back to Beomgyu, who was still struggling. "Sir, I am in love with your daughter."

His unplanned statement came out in a rush, and your face quickly turned to him, mouth agape. He was also surprised by his own words, his eyes widened even more and he now looked at you in disbelief, his lips parted slightly as he processed what he had said. My goodness...

Your father had dropped the lid of the grill, your mother had stopped making the salad, and your brothers had stopped torturing the dog to look at you and Beomgyu. There was silence; no one moved or said anything. For a moment there was only the humming of the grill and the whisper of an occasional breeze. You were sure that Beomgyu could hear your heart beating in your chest and you were sure that you could hear it when he swallowed spit. He was so red, so shocked, that you thought he would faint right there, or run out first and then pass out in front of your house.

"Gee, well." After a long silence, your father nodded and added, "I'm sure dinner will be a long one."

You wondered if the seriousness in his tone was real.

Beomgyu shivered like a tired old oak leaf. Your mother shook her head, struggling to keep a smile from peeking out of her lips. Your siblings, like you, just stared at him, eyes wide.

Your father broke the second silence by clearing his throat and tapping the lid of the grill.

"I think the burgers are ready."

Before you could find the stability to move towards your family, Beomgyu's hand wrapped around your arm and his eyes, now wide and ridiculously expressive, shouted the words you had been waiting for.

"Listen."

"Yes?"

"I... I... It slipped out of my mouth."

"I know." Oh, God. No. You didn't know. You didn't know anything. You weren't thinking clearly. Your heart had eloped to a party and your brain had followed.

"Your dad likes me, look, it doesn't look like he's going to let me go without a burger."

"Beomgyu, I..."

"Listen," he repeated, and you would have told him to lower his voice if you hadn't seen his determination. "If your father banishes me from your house and I don't survive the heartbreak to tell you, I want you to know that I've been thinking about you all this time, every day, at all hours; especially in the morning, which is why every day starts out well now and is all happy and pretty and cheesy and all that. You're so... so fucking cute and distracting, which is why you saw me with my shirt on backwards the other day, which also explains the toothpaste stain on my sweater; oh! And the different colored socks. I didn't know that... This, that... you know, yeah... Love made people so clumsy and clueless, but now I know that if I get hit by a tricycle going three miles an hour, it will be because I was thinking of you”.

He was still talking, the words coming out of him as fast as the stream of water coming out of the hose one of your brothers was using to wash a sausage he had dropped on the floor. You just stood there, mouth agape, struggling to take in and process all those words.

"And just a moment ago I was so excited, so high, such an idiot for what you said to me, I can't believe I almost left without telling you, because I've been wanting to tell you forever. I don't know if it was those beautiful cheeks that I want to cradle and pull and pinch and bite all the time, or if it was the way your lashes whispered romantic tales and happy endings to me. I... I don't know how you did it, or what seductive trick you used to trap me, but you can take as much from me as you want; I don't know how much I have, only that I was empty until you came”.

Beomgyu finished, paused for a moment, and then smiled and shrugged, such an adorable and nervous and yet ridiculous and funny gesture. "Well, that... that's it."

There was no air in your lungs. Your heart, which had come back drunk, racing and out of breath, was beating so fast that you couldn't think of anything but the deafening sound it was making in your chest. One, two, three minutes passed and you still hadn't regained your mobility. Beomgyu inhaled sharply, shrugged again, and gestured to the table where the rest of your family was already sitting, looking at you, trying to pretend they weren't listening.

"I think they're all waiting for us to eat."

Fortunately, he made the decision for you and took your hand to lead you to the table. You still had your eyes fixed on him and your mouth hanging open as he led you to your seat. You sat down and your trembling legs were grateful, but your hand felt empty, sweaty and scared when it came away from his.

Beomgyu cleared his throat, blushed at the sight of you and murmured, "I'll be back in a minute, okay?" Then he left, mumbling something about going to the bathroom.

Your father looked at you as if he expected you to say something, but he must have seen the embarrassment and confusion on your face, because he then turned to your mother. "Did you understand him? I didn't understand him."

Your mother laughed. "I love that boy, but God, he talks fast."

"He wants to bite her cheeks," said one of your siblings.

"And pinch them." Said the other.

Your father nearly choked on his soda, and you nearly fell out of your chair.

"What? What is he talking about?"

"He wants to bite her!" your younger brother nearly howled with laughter. "He's always talking about biting her cheeks."

"And pinching them."

You covered your face with your hands and grinned like a fool. You didn't mind the dozens of questions your father asked and the teasing of your siblings; you looked at your mother's smile, full of peace, hope, promised laughter and dreams to be fulfilled, and you admitted to yourself that the days with Beomgyu would always carry a load of happiness that was capable of subtracting the importance of everything else.

At the same time, Beomgyu was leaning against the wall and facing the closed bathroom door, trying to sort out his thoughts. As he stood in front of you, the words came out of him so fast that he didn't even have time to realize how hasty and awkward his statement was. He felt exposed, vulnerable, he needed a moment or two or many to recover, but he was undeniably happy.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, thinking of you and laughing for no reason.

"Oh my God..." he murmured. "I'm so fucked up."

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arlertwhore · 5 months ago

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draft #1: sneaky link series, pt. 7

completed draft - not a part, a draft - meaning there is technically no pt 7. i have no issues with people taking it as pt 7though.

pairing: paige bueckers x fem! “sneaky link” reader.

warning(s): angsty, argument / breakup, fluff, smut, scissoring, pussy eating, fingering, spitting, hair-pulling, unedited.

synopsis: Despite your admission of feelings, Paige still wants to keep you as her secret. However, as the threat of discovery looms and you grow close with someone else, she jealously realizes she doesn't want anyone to think you don't belong to her. Even if you remain a secret, you are undeniably hers.

word count: 7.1k (what happens when ana's creativity fights to not fight)

Author Note: first ever draft i'm dropping AH! i'm so weirded out that i'm leaving this series unfinished (for now) and posting something this trash, but i think its what best for me. like i said, this isn't an official pt . 7, it's just a draft, but i have no issue if i get an inbox we can talk about like its an off pt 7 yk?? you guys are also so free to leave ideas for pt. 8 and 7 in my dms, inbox, etc.. so if i return i can get back into the groove!

Paige, after a week of ghosting, suddenly texts: "Good News", and despite being frustrated with her, you're desperate for a study break in studying for your last exam of the year and some positivity, so you quickly respond: "?"

She tells you her old friend from Minnesota, Serena, is in town for the week at a hotel while her soccer team plays Connecticut, and she's allowing Paige to use the hotel room while she's away due to her losing a bet.

You respond with a terse "Cool", and Paige's response hangs in the air, marked by those ominous three dots. After an agonizing pause, her next text arrives: "See you by tomorrow night?"

And although you're betraying every emotion you've had at the frustration of paige ghosting you the whole week, you say, "yeah."

You felt like a total idiot for believing that perhaps now that she'd confessed, Paige would stop running from it. You should've been wiser, given your history with Paige, but the thrilling days that followed your vulnerable confession of feelings deceived you. They were a dizzying whirlwind of happiness, lulling you into a false sense of security, and masking the reality of her true intentions.

You and Paige had a fast romance, resembling a newlywed couple's bliss. You strolled hand-in-hand through the neighborhood, enjoyed family movie nights, and explored the mall together. She even surprised you with intimate gifts, like delicate lingerie, which she eagerly removed in the privacy of your bedroom. Those days were filled with laughter, love, and a sense of security, free from the fear of rejection that once plagued you. Your connection deepened so much that Paige even let you take her with her strap, a thrilling milestone in your relationship.

The experience was magical, but as the school week began, reality hit hard, and Paige, as she always did, resumed the cycle. She seemed to have perfected the art of creating distance. Her texts became short and infrequent, she stopped answering your calls, and just ghosted you.

You were crushed: you made it clear on the week she did ghost you that you hated when she did that, and the fact she ignored your pleas and chose to cowardly avoid everything was heartbreaking. But at least you had your new roommate, Maggie, to distract you. After growing up with a wayward sister, Maggie was your first taste of what a healthy sibling relationship could be like. She was everything you weren’t—energetic, popular, outgoing, and the life of every party—your polar opposite, and her presence brought a refreshing contrast to your life.

She filled your evenings with wild stories of campus drama and an endless supply of party interesting anecdotes. And also, piping hot gossip that you were more than amused by until one night, when Maggie stumbled into your room back from a party, reeking of alcohol and giggling uncontrollably.

"Paige Bueckers, aka Ms. Hollywood, is allegedly hooking up with some mysterious girl on campus who claims to be straight."

Your heart skipped a beat: you had never claimed to straight before.

And also, both of your entire life's focus had been on your careers, and this rumor had potentially to be extremely damaging to your professional prospects. Especially for you — you had worked tirelessly to build a respectable image, and the thought of being linked to Paige's scandalous behavior was daunting.

You played it cool, dismissing the rumor with a nonchalant laugh: "Oh, really? People say crazy things." But inside, you were turmoil-stricken, unable to reveal the truth to Maggie due to Paige's strict secrecy and dislike of her for being a blabbermouth.

Maggie shrugged, "Well, Paige is in trouble; social media's onto her, and they're searching for her mystery girl. Apparently, they even go clubbing together." Your heart sank, knowing this was all too true. As exams approached, you pushed aside the rumors and pretended to be too busy to care, all while secretly suffering in silence, worried about the potential fallout on your career.

So, when you pulled up to "Serena's" hotel the next day, really Paige's place, you were exhausted, beaten down by her behavior, the looming rumors, and the fact that you had probably bombed your exam that night. You couldn't have been acting more out of character, bursting through the hotel door and pushing past Paige, who stood awaiting your acknowledgment in the foyer.

"Is there anything to drink? Maggie drank every last drop of alcohol in the house." you called out, voice laced with desperation and a hint of frustration, as if the scarcity of alcohol was the final straw in a long series of disappointments.

"Me?" she whispered softly as she crept up behind you in the kitchen, wrapping her arms around your waist with a gentle kiss to your neck. "Or Rose. In the fridge. You're lucky S I'm sharin'; S got it for us tonight." The warmth of her embrace and the sweetness of her kiss sent a buzz down your spine, momentarily distracting you from the fact she was everything wrong these days too.

"Oh, is that why you've been ignoring me? For Rose, Serena —because Paige, if we're being honest," you said, pulling away from her and striding over to the fridge to grab the coveted bottle, "I don't like sharing either."

There's a tense and awkward momentary silence as you stretch to reach the glass from up-top the shelf, and Paige approaches, her hand resting on your lower back, and her breath on your scalp. "We've both been busy - I'm not ignoring you, alright?" she says in a low, defensive murmur, her gentle touch sparking a flutter in your chest, making it hard to maintain your frustration.

Together, you manage to retrieve the glasses, but her gentle gesture has already disarmed you, and the tension between you shifts, your defenses slowly dropping, a fragile facade crumbling under the weight of her.

"I miss you even when we're together." you admit, looking up at her with a vulnerable gaze, your eyes locking onto hers as you bare your soul, the weight of your words conveying the constant fear of losing her, the ache of knowing that external pressures and expectations can tear you apart at any moment, and the desperation to hold on to her, even when she's right in front of you.

"I've had the worst fucking week, and- I spent most of my time in bed and not studying, thinking about why I could make you confess, but not... not stay with me." The pain in your voice as you reveal the turmoil that's been consuming you, and the desperate desire for her presence in your life is felt mutually.

"Okay," you whisper shakily, feeling tears prick at the way Paige looks at you, mutually, like she feels the same, but where you can see her resistance up still. And you know you'll never win. You have to stop thinking you can.

"I'll drink my feelings away, and then we're gonna fuck to get it off my mind, and we're never gonna bring this up again." your voice cracks as you surrender to the defeat, seeking temporary escape.

You pour the rose in both your glasses, and Paige stands back watching, knowing that this is exactly what's happening. She's suppressing her inner fear and has no choice but to acquiesce, and not say anything because she told you her rules at the beginning, and fears if she says anything, it'll be from her heart because it hurts her as much as it hurts you.

She's trapped in her own emotions, unable to express her true feelings, and resigned to silently follow the script you've both agreed upon.

"Cheers," you say, raising your glass, and she looks confused, but reluctantly clinks your glasses together and watches through a slow sip as you down it and then pour yourself some more. The alcohol burns your throat, but you welcome the numbness, trying to dull the ache in your chest.

Paige's gaze lingers, melancholy, but more neutral, as she silently acknowledges the change in you, trying to read to lightheartedly conversate.

"I see Maggie's introduced you to the lifestyle. You guys still getting close?'' her voice is subtly clad with a hint of detachment, an attempt to shift the focus away from the tension between you, and onto a more casual topic, but her underlying concern and curiosity are both still evident.

You nod, your eyes focalled on the alchol in your glass. "Yeah, she- we're thinking of doing a double date thing and I was gonna ask you before - y'know, but I guess it's pointless even though she already kinda knows."

You mention the fact - y'know - that you guys just suffered a breakup without even being together in a very odd manner, and that that is the weirdest thing ever. Well, to Paige, the second strangest thing of the night - the third is that how you broached the subject courageously in the first place, and the first: "Maggie knows?" she repeats, "Did you tell her?" a slight accusatory tone to her voice, her eyes narrowing slightly as she sets her glass down, her gaze fixed intently on yours, as if searching for any sign of betrayal or deceit.

"Everything." you whisper, jokingly confessing and shaking your head at her ridiculous pissed face (that's also sorta hot).

Paige glares back at you, serious and you furrow your brows, feeling the alcohol hitting you already. "Shit, what do they put in here?" you ask, checking the label for the alcohol volume, when Paige snatches it out of your reach and demands, "I'm serious, Y/N, what'd you-"

"Nothing!" you interrupt, exploding, "Nothing, Paige, there is fucking nothing to tell Maggie because all of this," you notion back and forth between you two, face-to-face, "Is nothing! What would I tell her, huh? That you don't text me for days on end and shit like that?" Your words spill out in a frenzy, the alcohol fueling your emotional release in the opposite sense you wanted it to.

Paige hates how that's supposed to comfort her, but instead makes her feel belittled and trivialized as she processes, now reaching for her own glass to forget about what you just told her - that you guys are "nothing." The word stings, a harsh reminder of the boundaries she's set, and the apparent insignificance of their connection in your eyes. She takes a swig, the rose souring her throat, as she struggles to reconcile the conflicting emotions within her.

Pretty soon, because you guys are weird and perfect for each-other, you're in bed and dealing with your conflicting emotions in a thoroughly unproductive way.

Paige kisses down your neck, hands roaming over you with a fervor in her eyes like she had the day at the bar, but now, times ten, and mixed in with something new. As she's stripping off your pants and kissing down your legs, she's still doing that thing where she murmurs vague stuff she knows she can deny if you try to confront her later. "So pretty, baby," she whispers, spreading your legs apart and kissing your calf, "My pretty baby." If not for the desire you have to get fucked out of your own brain, you would probably tell Paige to stop entirely or just stop saying that, but you can't, especially because it at least feels good to pretend that all just didn't happen.

By now, you've had plenty of rose, a lot more than Paige has, and under the spell of alcohol, every sensation she evokes in you feels better than the last. The room spins, and your senses blur, but Paige's touch is the one thing that feels lucid, the one thing that makes sense in this haze of emotions and alcohol.

Before Paige can put her mouth to use on you, the bedroom door is bursted open, and the once muffled call of her name that you're too tipsy to register becomes audible. "Paige! Bro, practice is cancelled, let's go-" she suddenly crashes in, who you can only assume is Serena, and walks in on the compromising sight and exclaims, "Oh shit!" standing there in awe as Paige scrambles for your clothes to cover yourself, furious, "Get out!"

She storms, jumps out of bed and slams the door in her face. The sudden movement makes your head spin, and you wince, the loudness reeling in your head from the alcohol and the abrupt interruption.

When Paige sees you lying still, eyes shut in what looks like anguish, she rushes over to you, apologetic. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, she's- she's obviously not supposed to be here as you just heard and-" - "It's fine." you interrupt, gathering your clothes hastily and getting out of bed. Once again, Paige has let you down, and it annoys the both of you equally. "Call me," you say, your tone indifferent, "Or don't."

You go to open the door and rush away before Paige can stop you, but Serena awaits on the other side, and you pause, dissecting her.

You were going to be jealous over this girl until you realize she's like Paige, just a little less tall, a lot less blonde, and skinnier. She isn't her type and she's masculine too, to your delight, and not because of Paige and her not being compatible, but at the fact its your type.

"Sorry," she says cheekily, "I thought she was here to take a break from the team."

Serena smirks, amused. "I mean, I guess she was." and her eyes linger at the hickey on your neck. The implication is clear, and you feel a flush rise to your cheeks as you try to brush it off, the alcohol still clouding your judgment.

"Y/N," you laugh, smiling, "I'm sorry, I- I drank all your rose tonight, and you just saw me kind of naked, so probably not a great way to start things off." you chuckle, trying to play off the awkwardness, and she smiles, exposing pearly whites, and seeming to appreciate your honesty and humor.

"Oh trust me, I couldn't mind less." and you can't figure out which way she means it before she continues again, "But... if you had too much rose, I don't just wanna send you driving home with a stranger. And better yet, by yourself. You're welcome to stay the night if you want to." her tone is genuine, and you hesitate for a moment, weighing your options, before nodding in agreement, grateful for her kindness.

Paige is forced to watch her Serena clearly court you over the night, dressing you in her oversized t-shirt and shorts, and giving you some cold water as you guys converse on the couch in the living room. She does need time to herself after the alcohol begins to wear off and she begins to think about the consequences of her actions, the weight of her emotions, and the reality of her situation with you, but she can't do that logically while hearing you giggle and laugh at everything Serena says.

When she emerges from the bedroom, realizing she can get a rise out of Serena too, you both glance at her like she's intruding once she plops down at the couch in the living room. Serena laughs. "Yo, are you- you staying here tonight?" she asks, her tone playful, but also hinting at a sense of not wanting Paige too, as if she's making her rethink her choice, and maybe even staking a claim on you, much to Paige's dismay.

"Well, yeah, that's the plan for the week, S," she says, eyes darting between you two, "Unless you guys want the house all to yourselves." Paige's tone is laced with a hint of sarcasm and a dash of curiosity, as if she's testing the waters, gauging the dynamics between you and Serena, and perhaps even hoping to stir up a reaction from one or both of you.

"Maybe we do," you say, leaning back on your couch, and Serena smirks, Paige rolling her eyes.

"Well, yeah, we're learning lots about each-other. She's a huge soccer fan, and I'm a soccer player."

Paige scoffs, shaking her head and laughing, "You hate sports. You're a nerd, what do you mean you're a-" - "I am." you interject, "You just don't care enough to know that." you shoot back, Paige's expression a mix of amusement and disbelief, as if she can't fathom you pretending to be something you're not.

Serena glances at between you both, intrigued, and curious. "So, uhh...before I ask what I do, what are you guys?" she asks as if she's navigating a sensitive topic, and her eyes dart between you and Paige, seeking clarification on your relationship status.

"It's complicated," and "Nothing," you both say in simultaneously, and when Paige's eyes narrow and she falls silent, you learn that the word "nothing" triggers her. The air is thick with tension, and Serena's eyes widen, sensing the underlying dynamics at play.

"Nothing?" she raises an eyebrow at Paige. She pauses. "Uhh... well on that case, why don't all three of us go get dinner tomorrow? Paige can bring somebody!" she suggests, hoping by the proposal, it will soften the blow of tension.

"And... And so can you, even though I'd prefer if you don't." You smile warmly at her attempt to flirt, and also, keep things equal. "What about my friend Maggie Bowman? She's practically my sister, I think you'll love her. She plays soccer too." You offer, trying to lighten the mood and include Maggie, finally, in your real life.

Paige realizes thats how you must've been able to keep up a sports conversation for so long. "Maggie? I mean, c'mon, I-" "I'd love that!" Serena exclaims, "Who're you bringin' Paige? Maybe another hot model girl?" she teases, referencing you, who does that stupid giggle again and it takes Paige all her might not to lash out as she calmly responds, "I don't know, Azzi maybe."

Serena nods. "That'd work." and Paige grimaces at the fact she'd try for her best-friend too.

The rest of the night is a blur and you come down from the alcohol, all eventually falling asleep on the couches, yet you awaken in bed, next to Paige, like you had become used to as of a week ago. The familiarity of her presence, the scent of her skin, and the warmth of her body engulfing yours stir up a mix of emotions, from comfort to guilt, as you try to process the events of the previous night and the current state of your relationship.

Your body may crave the comfort of her closeness, but your mind knows that giving in to these desires will only lead to more heartache and confusion in the end, so you nudge her. "Off, Paige." you whisper, your voice gentle but firm, trying to extricate yourself from her embrace without hurting her feelings, and subsequently yours.

"Hmm?" she murmurs from sleep, groggily, "No, stay," she slurs, her voice laced with a hint of desperation, as she tightens her hold on you. She has a bad sleeptalking habit, one that you've struggled with in the past to understand if she's just stupid and asleep or genuine.

It's both. And it also seems like old patterns are dying hard. You force yourself up, you exit her arms, and book an Uber back to your house, where Maggie is waiting at the doorstep with coffee. "Where were you all night? Gosh, I was worried sick, I called everybody you knew. Fuck, your friends are dicks." She scolds, her expression a mix of relief and annoyance, as she hands you a steaming cup of coffee, her eyes narrowing slightly as she takes in your disheveled appearance.

"Serena's house," you reply, "This friend of mine. She's in for the week while her Soccer team plays Connecticut."

Maggie's eyes widen. "What? Like The Minnesota Stars playing Connecticut this week? As in the Serena Davis?" She asks, her voice laced with excitement and disbelief, as if she can't quite wrap her head around the fact that you spent the night at the hotel of a famous soccer player.

"I think," you smile, glancing down at your clothes, "I didn't catch her last name, but these are all hers. She's sweet." Maggie's jaw drops, her eyes bulging in utter shock, before she lets out a squeal of excitement, jumping up and down like a teenager at a rock concert. "OH. MY. GOD! You're a groupie! You're a total groupie!" she accuses, laughing and teasing, her hands on her hips. You nod, playing along, "Would this groupie still be one if she was inviting you to dinner with Serena? And Paige Bueckers? And maybe Azzi Fudd?" You ask, grinning mischievously, as Maggie continues to freak out, still in disbelief.

Up until 8:00, the confirmed meetup time, is when Maggie energizes.

She talks endlessly about how you're basically living a double life, how you're "rubbing shoulders with soccer royalty", and asks you what it's like to be with Serena, her questions ranging from serious to absurd. On the drive to the restaurant, you have to lecture Maggie on proper etiquette, reminding her to behave herself, not to fan-girl too hard, and to please, for the love of all things good, not ask Serena for a jersey or autograph.

"Just be chill," you advise, shaking your head in amusement as you walk into the restaurant together. You can feel Maggie's excitement radiating like a force, and you know she's struggling to contain her inner fan-girl. You shoot her a warning glance, silently reminding her to play it cool, as you spot Serena, Paige, and Azzi waiting for you at a table, Serena looking radiant and entirely too comfortable in her celebrity skin.

You underestimate just how famous the girls are, especially Serena, but when even your waiter is a little starstruck to see the three of them, telling them each she's seen them in sports, you realize that you're dining with genuine sports royalty.

You each spend the dinner laughing. Maggie and Azzi talk for some time, both self-proclaimed party-girls with mutual friends, and Paige, you, and Serena—mainly Paige and Serena—do their own thing up until you guys have finished eating and chatting, at which point Serena pays the bill with a flourish, her celebrity status evident in the discreet yet deferential service you received all evening. As you prepare to leave, the waiter lingers, still starstruck, and Serena, Paige, and Azzi graciously autograph a napkin for her before you exit.

The night ends with Maggie inviting you all to a party that you and Paige decline, however, Serena opts to go. "Might as well make the most of it while I'm in town." she says with a grin, "But... if you wanna stay at the hotel, Y/N, we'll all see you guys tonight." She winks, eyes sparkling as she ganders at you hungrily.

Azzi, the only person besides you and Paige who knows your history, a member of the "Paige needs to stay focused" club, and also her best-friend knows exactly what'll happen if you guys are left alone together, and once you say, "I think I will, S," Azzi is quick to interject, "Sure you BOTH don't wanna join us? I mean, Y/N, I remember the first time I met you. At a party." she teases you playfully, coaxing a smile out of you.

"And you remember how I embarrassed myself, Azzi?" you ask, laughing. "How could I forget?" the girl chuckles, "I wanna hear this story tonight," Maggie chimes in, and Serena agrees, "Me too." before Azzi just sighs, knowing there's nothing further she can do, and relents with a playful warning. "Just don't get too distracted, you two. We'll see you tonight."

You don't think you'll get distracted as they disappear into the distance, waiting for their Uber, and you and Paige head towards your car, walking down the street together in silence. The only sounds are the crickets chirping and the occasional passing car, but the air is thick with an underlying tension between you and Paige until you speak up.

"Can you drive? I'm too tired, I wanna take a nap." you ask Paige, tossing her your keys. She catches the keys with a hesitant smile, her eyes searching yours for a moment before she nods. "You done being mad at me?" she asks, her voice soft, playful, and a little vulnerable, like she's feeling her way through the moment, trying to gauge if the chill between you has started to return.

"I was never mad at you," you say with a shrug, avoiding her eyes and sounding utterly nonchalant. "I was mad at myself." Your tone is detached, like you're dismissing the whole thing, and your gaze drifts away from hers, leaving a sense of distance between you.

She decides not to go there with you. "So, Maggie's actually chill," she says, changing the subject, her tone light and conversational. "It's kinda weird it's all falling into place now even though we're not, y'know, 'friends' anymore." her words hang in the air, not probing or accusing, just stating a fact.

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "What do you mean?"

She shrugs, continuing, "Well, Azzi just accepted the fact I'm staying at a hotel with you, which means they all will because she's my best friend. I like Maggie. You like Azzi. And the net is catching on."

You chuckle, amused, and she smiles, playfully teasing. You can't help but think that if you two were still close, she wouldn't be so nonchalant about this situation. It's as if she's only comfortable with this all coming to you both at once because you're no longer under her control.

The thought crosses your mind that sometimes, it takes losing something to realize its value, and you wonder if she's come to appreciate you only now that you're no longer there. You have to remind her you aren't, because with the way her eyes scan your body, your dress, her favorite color on you, black, accentuating your shape perfectly before she licks her lips, adjusting her gray Nike tech, its obvious.

"I do have to say, I like Serena. How come you never mentioned this 'friend' of yours was hot and also really talented?" you laugh, a low throaty sound, and raise a waggling eyebrow that makes Paige herself chuckle smally.

With her laughter, her inability to go there with you ever, you don't expect it at all when she looks you straight in the eye, and boldly smiles, "No you don't. You like me? Remember? Back at your parents' at the park?" there's a dash of challenge to her tone, as if daring you to admit the truth, her eyes sparkling with a knowing glint that makes your heart race.

And just like that, you fall back in.

You slip up in your words. "The car's here, Paige," but you swallow the last part, jumbling it into, "C'mere Paige," instead of repeating what you had actually meant to say. Your voice is struck with want, your brain foggy with the familiar haze of passion, as you pull her closer, your hands roaming over her body like they used to, like no time has passed at all.

Within seconds, you're inside of your car, making out with Paige as her big hands grasp your hips, and you can't at all believe yourself one bit — that you're doing it again — that Azzi was right — and letting her fuck her way back into your life again, but you did have unfinished business.

And plus, now, with it all out of the way — you didn't mind just being casual, your resistance crumbling like dust as her lips devour yours, the familiar spark between you, consuming all rational thought.

"Fuck, I-... I never wanna see you like that again, do you hear me?" she growls again, staring intensely with her hand gripping your tits, spilling out the top of your dress. "Never," she repeats firmly and pulls you back in roughly by your ass, making you yelp into her mouth as she kisses you fiercely, tongue claiming yours.

Luckily for you guys, the deserted streets are quiet and your windows have a tint. It would be a shame for anybody to witness how Paige pulls you over her lap in the driver's seat, pulling your dress down and popping your tit into her mouth, sucking on you with hungry groans, tongue flicking against your nipple as she murmurs, "You like that?"

It's obvious in the way your body responds to hers, hips bucking against her thigh, and how you moan, "Y-Yes, shit." She holds your hips firmly, guiding you back and forth sensually, and due to how wet you are, she can feel you soak her knee through her sweatpants. She softly whispers into your ear, "No panties, huh? Of course, such a slut," and she grabs your hair, forcing your head to tilt back as she suckles on your neck. "Let me show Serena who you belong to."

Those times you knew Paige would flat out ignore you or deny it when you brought up her possessiveness and control during sex, were far behind you because you knew she couldn't now, and it was clear she didn't want to, and it was the hottest thing ever.

Her passion and intensity were undeniable, and you were swept up in the fervor of the moment, loving every second of her unbridled desire.

Once she's done doing that, you can't take it. "Wait, I-.. home Paige home, it's too tight in here." Your voice is laced with desperation, pleading with her to stop or to slow down, but your words are overtaken by her intense kisses, your body betraying your mind as you succumb to her fervent touch, the confines of the car suffocating you.

You don't know how you guys even manage getting home: the want is that much. You have so much need in your body that you do the most reckless thing ever known to mankind. As Paige slams on the accelerator, you spread your legs and slip your fingers down between your thighs, rubbing on your clit, in your wetness that makes the lewdest sounds ever, second to when you moan her name breathlessly. "Paigeee, fuck…! Wish this was you, P, mmph, gosh."

She tries not to glance and she tries not to react, but when you extend your arm and put your hand right across her lap, fucking your own fingers into you with wet noises and desperate whimpers before you give her a taste of it, it's like she's possessed.

You're rushing through the hotel to get back to the room, and in the elevator, more kissing continues, but at the door, you guys tap in and are making out furiously, for what feels like hours, hotly, both stepping out of your clothes in the corridor.

Your hands are all over each other once you crash in, rekindling the passion that never quite faded as you stumble into the room, locked in a embrace that's hard to break.

You unzip Paige's sweater and remove her Nike tech pants and are upset to find the truth about layering being true now of all times -- underneath, she has a black sports bra and blue basketball shorts.

You drop to your knees, sliding them down her legs, and your mouth is on her cunt in a flash. She's insanely wet—probably the wettest you've ever had her before in all your years of fucking.

"Do I have to be standing for this?" she asks through gritted teeth, and you realize that she's complimenting your head game like that, and smile, smirking as you look up at her and delving into her pussy with a strong flick of your tongue against her clit a couple of times, moaning hungrily.

The teasing gets her weak, her knees buckling.

Your words, your touch, your gaze—all of it has her surrendering, her defenses disappearing as she gives in to the tension that's been building between you two.

It's been ages since you've gotten to do this—melt Paige on your tongue, and she tastes like heaven, and sounds like it too. When you focus on her clit, parting her folds with your fingers to angle your tongue and flick at it, she whimpers.

Your touch is so, so perfect it doesn't even feel real, and though none of it does, Paige can't help but savor the moment. She gazes down at your face, looking deep into your eyes as she grinds her hips against you, in a frenzy riding your face as she moans loudly.

"Fuck, you're so good," she groans, pulling you back up by your hair and onto your feet, eyes blazing. "Tell me you wouldn't do this for Serena. For any other girl," she demands, tugging your hair in a way that turns you on intensely as you murmur, "Just you. Always only you." And she's relentless, spitting into your mouth, her saliva thick and warm, before she pushes your face back into her cunt, making everything a wet mess through the singular action.

You pull back and marvel at her pink folds. "So beautiful," you whisper against her cunt, entranced with desire and by the way her pussy glistens and gleams, sparkles, and you suckle her clit like a connoisseur.

The signs she's going to climax emerge: her eyes shut tightly, her abs contract repeatedly, and her face turns red and redder by the moment as you work your jaw faster, slipping your finger up into her entrance, but she stops you with a yank of your head backwards.

"Seriously, I'll fall over if we—c'mon, let's go to the bed." she pants.

This time, Paige remembers to lock the door behind her before she slips in between your legs, dangling her chain enticingly in your face. "Still wet?" she softly and earnestly inquires, and you chuckle at her ridiculous charm. "Yeah, of course."

She kisses you deeply, hands roaming eagerly. "Lemme check," she whispers, and then she slides up your dress, exhaling in awe at the sight because you're genuinely dripping.

"So fuckin' perfect, fuck," her warm breath against your stomach gives you chills, and you twitch slightly in her embrace, prompting her hand to fly to your hipbone, anchoring you with a desperate gaze, afraid you might slip away. "N-no," she stammers, her voice trembling, "No, just... just stay like this, just like this." With lustfully hazy eyes, she closes them as she nuzzles her nose against your clit, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from you. "Ah, Paige-!" you yelp, and she's quick to hush you.

"Shhh, angel, please," she whispers, her eyes meeting yours fleetingly. "Please," she repeats, more firmly this time, before her tongue teases at your clit carefully - like she just wants a small taste.

The shamelessness in her begging — begging for you to be complicit with her, coupled with her mouth, it all makes your head spin.

When you nod, silently giving into her, you watch as she indulges in you, moaning at the faint taste of you on her tongue before she withdraws. "You taste amazing," she mumbles, "Just for me."

Your eyebrows furrow at her words, arousing you further, soaking you thoroughly and making you squirm once more, much to her dismay. "Stay still," she instructs firmly, pausing. "Stay still or you won't get anything out of this… I could do this all night, I promise you."

It took you back to when you first met Paige and she told you the exact same thing. You didn't believe her at first, and then she ended up not letting you cum for half an hour, her fingers inside you changing with every stroke, LITERALLY keeping you on edge.

Your hands laced into her hair, and you tugged lightly. "'s what you get, you bitch… so fuckin' mean to me," you teased, knowing exactly how to get her where you needed her, just like she'd gotten you to where she needed you for what you were about to do. "Serena'd be fucking me good by now. She almost did last night before you came out on the couch."

That was true. You weren't just saying it, and you both knew it. That was true.

"Is that so?"

In moments, you were now both naked, her hands gripping your ass and tits eagerly. Her kisses were urgent and messy as she undressed you, her lips assaulting your neck with hungry fervor. "I'm going to fuck that out of you," she declared, her voice filled with need, her breath heating your skin. "I can't get enough of you."

"Do it."

Paige complied, her hands gently kneading your breasts as she positioned herself between your legs. You gasped softly as she settled against you, the heat of her body melding with yours as she aligned your cunts precisely. The room seemed to fade away as you focused on the exquisite friction between you, the heat intensifying as Paige hooked her leg around your thigh in a sense, drawing you closer with each movement. Her voice was a whisper against your calf, filled with need as she questioned, "Feel my clit, baby? Feel how wet I am for you?"

You whine, overwhelmed. "You're so wet, P, fuck." She had your leg bent back towards your head, her slick heat gliding against yours as she moved forward, inhaling sharply at the exquisite friction between you.

She smirked down at you. "Fuck, you're my slut, baby," she moaned, pupils dilated as she arched her back, pressing her body closer to yours.

With each powerful thrust of her hips, you could see the subtle flexing and rippling of muscles beneath her skin, a testament to her arousal. Her voice was heavy with desire as she lifted your leg higher, craving deeper access. "Fuck me back, baby, come on. Just like that." the last part a near whine as you appeased, meeting her every grind with a fervent thrust of your hips.

"God, you're so wet," she whimpered, biting onto her bottom lip to stifle her moans, "Fucking dripping, aw.. shittt." in the break, she's panting, breathing fast breaths into your ear, and then it falls silent.

The sound that fills the air between you two once it does was raw— carnal. It had grown louder as you complied, truly fucking her back, your clits sliding against each other frenziedly, eliciting a wet sound that mingled with the rhythmic clapping of your skin. Unable to stifle it, a sigh of satisfaction escaped you, breaking the silence. "So deep, Paige," you grunted softly, reaching up to fondle her firm tits, her eyes fluttering shut as she quickened her pace, urging you to keep up.

"Don't… do not fucking stop," your voice cracked with pleasure, urgent and needy without care. "Then fuckin', ohh," testing her resolve, you pinch her nipples mid-sentence, and they perk up, practically begging to be sucked. Her voice trembles so invitingly that your mouth waters.

"Then fuckin' keep up with me, ma. You can do it, angel," she encouraged, brushing your hair from your face just to look you with her glossy from determination, and then she's crying out, "Fuckk, yes!" as her hips buck against yours snugly. You're just about to ask what has her so riled up when you feel it— her nails digging into your skin at the sensation of your clit, rubbing hard against hers and pulsating, driving her insane and making her lose control. It makes you shake with pleasure. It was all just perfect — Paige never fucked you like this often just because in her own words, she didn't like sounding like a bitch.

Moaning like a girl. And... she always warned that she couldn't hold back when it came to your pussy. She'd always lose control if she took you like this, and she knew you secretly liked it when she did.

It was hot watching her internally battle the side of herself that wanted to hold the power and the side that wanted to fuck you stupid and give you all her cum.

Nevertheless, she's spilling more arousal from her hole into the mix, and the glide just gets smoother and smoother, like water on water.

You push your hips up harder, grunting with each forceful thrust, and Paige sounds like she's exerting herself at the gym, groaning gruffly as she fucks you relentlessly, babbling about how badly she wants you to cum in her.

"You do? You want it?" you tease, and she's quick to nod her head vigorously, hair flying free from its bun as she moves. "Mhm," spitting down between you both and pleading, "I want your cum so badly, baby, please give it to me, please let me have it, please make me- make me cum, shit you're gonna-"

Her eyes squeezed shut and she moaned deeply, hips bucking, signaling her impending climax. "Look at me," you urged, "Look at me, Paige, I want to cum, I want to give it to you, look at me."

When she forces her eyes open, glistening with tears, she freezes on the spot at the sight of your tits bouncing and clapping together rhythmically, the way you bite your bottom lip, and how desperate you sound once you climax at the exact same time as her, calling out her name hoarsely. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, Paige, oh—! Oh fuckkk, yes!"

She's whining and crying out listlessly as she collapses over your body, muscles contracting as she spills onto you, and with each slow movement, her cunt feels like glue against yours, so much so that you tremble.

Your skin sticks to each other, a mixture of sweat and arousal making it feel almost impossible to separate, and before you can offer to clean her up again like you so desperately want to — to finish what you started earlier and have her cum on your tongue, a firm knock is heard on your door.

"Guys?!" shouts Maggie, "What the fuck are you doing in there?"

Paige is so thoroughly fucked out that she can't move or speak or react, even though her worst fear has come true, and Maggie knows.

You shake your body, responding cautiously, and inadvertly shaking Paige in the process. "Peanut Butter?" you say. "Yeah?" she manages timidly and you press your hands on her waist, moving her gently, only for her to shudder at the sole movement.

You chuckle at her sensitivity and general posterior as you disclose, "Secret's out," with a humorous whisper.

And to your collective surprise, realizing Serena is back too, she responds resolutely.

"Good."

MASTERLIST

AUTHOR NOTE #2: i think you just witnessed the fact i can’t write angst — or maybe it’s just the creative slumping idk man show all your fav writers some love it’s rly tough out here lol! as always i am now gonna beg for you to interact with me because ily all sm - ana. ALSO TY FOR NEARLY 900 FOLLOWERS WTF!! love u all my cutiemooties, followers, anons 🤍

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slu7formen · 8 months ago

Text

luke castellan x fem!reader

Luke has been making fun of your ‘unnecessarily absurd beauty routine’ —as he liked to call it— for the past week, so, you decide to drown him in it, just to see how much he can handle.

warnings: just a single use of the word b1tch, fluff at the end <3, little use of yn

reminder: english’s not my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes

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i. the eyebrows

“Ow, ow, ow! That hurt!”

“No it didn´t!”

“Yes, it did!”

“Shut up and hold still”

“Ow! You´re pinching my skin, you bitch!”

“That was fully on porpuse”

A chorus of laughter erupted from the nearby bunk beds. Most of the boys, Luke´s half-siblings, gathered around you both, enjoying the show, eyes gleaming with mischief as they witnessed their usually stoic and confident counselor reduced to a whiny mess. Luke´s head was leaning on your thighs as you plugged his eyebrows with some dangerously sharp tweezers.

“See, that´s what you get for making fun of a girl” Travis Stoll, the elder of the Stoll brothers, joined in, a smirk on his lips. "We all warned you about messing with her” he pointed towards you.

“Shut up, Travis!” Luke spat.

You enjoyed the way his face was turning red, from embarrasment and because he was trying so hard to hold back his tears.

“You know, Luke” you started, plugging on another thin hair which earned you a little curse whispered from his lips. “You can always just, give up on the bet”

You found yourself enjoying the sight immensely. The perfect Hermes´ cabin counselor who'd spent the past week mocking your beauty routine,– here he was, sprawled across your lap, a prisoner of your tweezers.

“There´s no way in hell I´m letting you beat me that easily" he declared, though his voice lacked its usual conviction.

You couldn't help but smirk. The bet had been born out of sheer frustration. For the past week, Luke had been relentless in his teasing about your beauty regimen. He'd mocked the meticulous way you cared for your eyebrows, the endless battle against unwanted body hair, the whining about the occasional pimples even when you spent a good twenty minutes locked in the bathroom cleaning your skin. He'd called you high-maintenance, a slave to societal expectations, and everything in between.

Finally, you'd snapped. "Alright, Castellan" you'd declared, eyes blazing. "How about a little bet? If you can handle a full day of 'girl stuff,' I'll clean your cabin for a week"

The look of surprise on Luke's face had been priceless. He'd scoffed, of course, overconfident and utterly clueless about the sheer torture involved in waxing, tweezing, and mud masks. But fueled by his arrogance, he'd readily agreed.

Now, here you were, watching him squirm on your lap like a fish, a testament to his underestimation of the situation. A wave of satisfaction washed over you. It wasn't just about winning the bet, though that was certainly a perk. It was about showing him, in a slightly sadistic way, that there was more to "girl stuff" than he thought. It was about proving that self-care wasn't about vanity, but about feeling confident and comfortable in your own skin.

“As you wish, little baby”

Chris suddenly appeard in your vision, the satisfaction on his face plagged as if he was enjoying this more than you did. “You know, yn” he called out, you momentarily stopped, accidentally giving Luke a break. “Luke has a little hair situation going on under his arms”

“What!?” Luke blurted out. His siblings laughed again.

“He does?” you asked Chris, looking down at Luke and patting his head like a little kid.

“Oh, yeah” Chris smirked. “Maybe that could be the next step, don´t you think?”

“I´m gonna-” Luke tried to get up from his bed, hands reaching out towards Chris. He took a step back just as you grabbed Luke by his shoulders and pushed him down again towards your lap.

“I´m not done with you yet, tough guy. But Chris´ right. Get your hairy armpits ready”

ii. the waxing

You pulled out a box of waxing stripes. Luke, oblivious to the impending torture, was too engrossed in examining his newly sculpted eyebrows in the hand mirror you'd provided. A satisfied smirk played on your lips. The eyebrows looked fantastic – perfectly groomed without being overly feminine. Because yes, he asked you to keep them as close to their natural shape as possible.

“Shirt off” you declared.

His head whipped towards you, eyes wide with horror and disbelief. His half-brothers, mirrored his action, erupting in a chorus of whistles and catcalls.

"Excuse you?" he sputtered, h is voice a touch higher than usual.

"Damn," Connor drawled to you. "at least ask the guy out first"

You rolled your eyes. Luke shot him a withering glare, but beneath the bluster, you could see a flicker of nervousness.

You held up the waxing strips. “It´s time for your armpits, champion” you announced with a playful lilt in your voice. You began rubbing the strips together to warm the wax.

He whined, pulling his camp t-shirt over his head, revealing his well-toned torso, and throwing it over a nearby bunk. You stole a glance at his body for a microsecond, a slight red blush coloring your cheeks. His brothers were quick to start a echo of whistles.

He flopped down heavily on the bed, one arm raised awkwardly above his head. To your surprise, there wasn't as much hair as you'd anticipated. But that didn't diminish the sheer terror radiating from him. You stifled a laugh. "Relax, Luke" you said, your voice gentler now. "The tenser you are, the worse it'll be."

His brothers leaned in closer, their eyes glued to the scene unfolding before them. You carefully pressed the strip against his skin, smoothing it down with the practiced ease. He held his breath, his entire body tensing in anticipation.

You inhaled sharply yourself, then you ripped the strip off in one swift motion. Luke let out a yelp that would have made a banshee proud. His face contorted in pain, and his free hand clenched into a fist. His brothers erupted in laughter, their amusement fueled by his pain.

"Alright, alright" you said, trying to sound sympathetic despite the laughter bubbling in your throat. "Deep breaths, Luke. If you don´t relax, it´s gonna hurt more"

He glared at you, his voice laced with a hint of betrayal. "Easy for you to say."

Ignoring his grumbling, you ripped off another strip. A chorus of gasps filled the room, and Luke let out another yelp, his face turning an even deeper shade of red.

"See?" you said, holding up the strip adorned with a few stray hairs. "Not so bad, right?"

He wanted to murder you.

"Don't you use anesthesia for this?" he wheezed after a particularly harsh pull on his other armpit, his eyes watering slightly.

“We´re not babies, Luke” you replied, shaking your head. "Just good old-fashioned grit and determination. Besides, you wouldn't want to miss out on the full 'girl stuff' experience, would you?"

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity —at least for Luke—, you finished. His armpits were as smooth as a baby´s butt. His brothers, unable to resist themselves, reached out and slapped the freshly waxed skin, earning them a swift kick each from a now-furious Luke.

iii. the skincare

"Skincare? Seriously?" Luke asked, sitting down on your bed, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You all went to your cabin to continue his so claimed ‘girl´s day´. You would´ve paid to take a picture of your sisters´ faces when they saw you walk in with a bunch of boys following you behind.

“Just lay down, princess” you declared “I´ll bring my stuff”

He leaned back against the your pushy pillows, getting comfortable.

“First time on a girl´s bed?” Chris asked, earning a few laughs from his siblings.

“Shut up” Luke spat.

You came back with your washbag, full of different products that nearly gave Luke a heart attack. You had to assure him that this time, this wasn´t gonna hurt. At least not the first part, but you kept it a secret.

"Alright, beautiful” you teased. “Let’s get started. First thing’s first. “Cleansing”

You dipped a soft washcloth in warm water and began gently wiping away the dirt and sweat from his face. Luke closed his eyes, a look of unexpected serenity washing over his features. You noticed him get loose under your touch, a slight smile playing on his lips, and crossed his arms over his chest in a gesture of surprising compliance.

“Wow” he said. “This is actually quite nice”

"See?" you said softly. "This isn't so bad"

He opened one eye, a playful glint mirroring your own. "Not bad at all" he admitted, a hint of amusement in his voice “Guys, you should try this."

The Hermes´ cabin boys leaned in closer, their usual boisterousness replaced by a quiet attentiveness. They watched as your fingers moved with a practiced ease, cleansing Luke's skin with a tenderness they hadn't seen before. They saw you take some cleanser, and rub it softly against Luke´s skin.

They all exchanged glances, a new kind of curiosity flickering in their eyes. Usually, the sight of anyone touching Luke, let alone his face, would have elicited a barrage of teasing. But seeing you, your movements gentle and practiced as you gathered a gentle cleanser, they found themselves strangely mesmerized.

"Well, he looks chill" Connor added. "Could you clean my face sometime, yn?"

You chuckled, throwing a playful glance thorwn at him. "Maybe later, Connor. Right now, it's all about Luke's glow-up."

Next came the toner, followed by a light moisturizer. Luke remained surprisingly still, his eyes closed, a contented sigh escaping his lips from time to time. His brothers, bored by the lack of drama, started to get bored.

Just as you were about to get some eye patchs, your eyes drifted on a little tool inside your washbag; your blackhead remover. An idea came up to you.

"Alright, Luke" you announced, a hint of warning in your voice. "Time for the fun part."

You reached for a steaming hot towel and pressed it gently against his nose and forehead. He inhaled deeply, the steam opening up his pores.

"This feels so nice" he mumbled, his voice muffled by the towel.

A slow grin spread across your face. "Oh, it gets better" you said, an evil spark in your eyes.

You grabbed the blackhead extractor and, with practiced ease, began gently removing the unwanted blemishes.

Suddenly, Luke's eyes flew open, a look of pure horror replacing his previous serenity. "Wait! What are you doing?" he shrieked.

"Shh" you hushed him playfully. "Relax. These little guys gotta go. Trust me, it'll be better for your skin in the long run."

"But it hurts!" he whined, swatting your hand away with a surprisingly weak attempt.

"Just a little pinch" you reassured him, your voice a mockery he hated. "Besides, if you don't remove them now, they'll grow bigger and poppier, and that will hurt even more."

Luke opened his mouth to protest, but the words died on his lips as you expertly extracted another blackhead. This bet was getting a little harder to beat than expected. He winced slightly, then a defeated sigh escaped his lips.

“So, Connor” you called. “You wanted to be next, right?”

iv. make up

"So," you began, a sly smile playing on your lips as you settled into the chair across from Luke, "you think makeup is easy, right?"

"Shouldn't be that hard, I guess" he mumbled, trying to sound confident. Inside, however, his stomach churned with fear and worry.

You gestured towards your desk, which was now overflowing with an array of colorful tubes, palettes, and brushes – an arsenal of beauty products foreign to the boys' eyes. "Alright then," you declared, a playful lilt in your voice. "Here's a little game. I'll show you each product and you have to guess what it's for. Every one you get wrong? Goes on your face."

Luke's eyes widened in horror.

"Wait, what?" he sputtered, a nervous tremor in his voice. "You can't be serious!"

You raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "But Luke, you just said makeup was easy. This is your chance to prove it!"

"This is cheating" he mumbled, looking betrayed. "You never mentioned makeup in the bet!"

"Technically," you countered, holding up a finger, "it's still 'girl stuff’, as you call it”

A groan escaped Luke's lips. He shot a desperate glance towards his brothers, hoping for some kind of intervention. Charles Beckendorf, who allegedly decided to join the fun, just grinned towards him.

"Don't chicken out now, Luke" he said, arms crossed over his chest. "You can always give up on the bet and let her win”

Luke glared at his friend, silently cursing the day he ever agreed to this ridiculous wager. He sighed dramatically, slumping back on the bed. "Fine" he mumbled, defeated. "At least try your best to make me look decent."

“That´s not gonna be on me, dear”

You couldn't help but laugh at his misery. You reached across the desk, picking up a sleek black tube with a silver cap. It felt cool and smooth in your hand.

"What do you think this is?" you asked, holding it up for him to see.

Luke squinted at the tube, his brow furrowed in concentration. He recalled seeing something similar in movies, actresses applying it with a flick of their wrist. An idea flickered in his mind.

"Eyeliner?" he ventured, his voice laced with a hint of uncertainty.

You arched an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "Huh, correct”

You set the eyeliner aside, a mischievous glint returning to your eyes. Next up, you picked up a thin, wooden-looking tool with a pointed tip. There was a small, round piece of what looked like colored chalk attached to the end.

"Alright," you announced, "round two. What is this?"

Luke studied the object carefully. It did resemble a pencil, but the colored tip threw him off. He wracked his brain, trying to recall anything similar he'd seen in the vast array of makeup products on your desk.

"Uh… a pencil?" he finally ventured, his voice lacking conviction.

You burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the cabin. Tears welled up in your eyes quickly, blurring your vision slightly.

"A pencil, Luke?" you wheezed, wiping a tear from your cheek. "It’s a lip liner"

Luke's cheeks flushed crimson.

"Lip liner?" he echoed, his voice barely a whisper. "For what? Do I need to draw on a bigger mouth?" He gestured to his own lips, a hint of self-consciousness creeping into his voice.

You shook your head, stifling another giggle. "No, no need for a bigger mouth. Lip liner helps define the shape of your lips."

With a shake of your head, you said, "Now the fun part begins. Bring those lips here, handsome."

Luke leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his face hovering a few inches from yours. The air got filled with a strange tension, probably because his brothers walked closer so they could get a better look. His breath hitched slightly as your fingers brushed against his skin, sending a shiver down his spine.

“You´re lucky this is the same shade as your natural lip color” you whisper.

“Yeah” Chris adds. “Maybe you should wear it more often, handsome” he reaches out his hand to squeeze Luke´s cheeks, but he´s quick enough to slap his hand away.

“Shut up”

The minutes that followed were filled with a more lighthearted energy. You continued the game, Luke surprisingly getting a few things right – foundation, and even a surprisingly good guess on a shimmery eyeshadow palette.

But he wasn't without his misses. The concealer, a light, creamy formula designed to camouflage blemishes, ended up being applied liberally under his eyes, leaving him with a ghostly pallor that had his brothers doubled over in laughter. Then came the blush. A delicate peach shade, turned his cheeks a comical shade of fuchsia thanks to your deliberately exaggerated application with a fluffy brush.

His brothers, fueled by this new display of comedic gold, howled with laughter. Charles, wiping tears from his eyes, wheezed, “He-, he looks like a baboon in heat”

"Oh man" Travis howled, clutching his stomach. "This is even better than the armpit wax"

Next came the eyelash curler, that strange-looking contraption that promised to create dramatic, fluttery lashes. The moment you held it up, Luke's eyes widened in suspicion. He snatched it from your hand before you could ask him what he though it was.

"What the hell is this!?" he exclaimed, his voice laced with a mixture of disgust and fear. "You girls like torturing yourselves with these things?"

You reached out and gently took the curler back. "No torture involved" you replied. “And since you know absolutely nothing about it…"

He tried to look defiant, but a flicker of uncertainty betrayed him. "I know what it is" he mumbled, avoiding your gaze.

"Oh really?" you challenged, raising an eyebrow. "Then what is it?"

You handed him the curler and watched as he fumbled with it, his big hands clearly not designed for such delicate work. He eventually gave up with a defeated sigh.

"Okay" he grumbled, handing the curler back to you. "Do your worst."

The final touches were a disaster, a glorious, hilarious disaster. Every fiber of Luke's being screamed in protest as you handed the brushes over to his merciless brothers.

“Come here, Lookie-Pookie” Travis cooed, his voice dripping with mock sweetness as he leaned in with a thick brush loaded with sparkly eyeshadow. Luke recoiled, swatting his hand away with a glare.

"Don't touch me!”

“Come on Luke, give us those pretty little lips. We need to make sure they're nice and kissable” Beckendorf joined, opening a little lip product tube he wasn´t sure what it really was.

Luke wanted to melt into the floor, his face burning hotter than the volcanic eyeshadow now smudged across his eyelids. The audacity, the betrayal! His own brothers, the supposed bastions of masculinity, were gleefully participating in this humiliation.

“Maybe some of this highlighter will make him look prettier”

He couldn´t believe his own brothers knew what highlighter was except for him.

As he looked at his reflection in the mirror, a mix of horror and amusement washed over him. He never thought he'd feel so violated by makeup. But somewhere amidst the frustration and embarrassment, a strange sense of camaraderie bubbled up. His brothers, usually his biggest tormentors, were doubled over with laughter, tears streaming down their faces. And you, the leader of this whole mess, were practically glowing with barely suppressed mirth.

Despite himself, a smile tugged at the corner of Luke's lips. Maybe this wasn't so bad after all. Sure, he looked like a technicolor disaster, but the shared laughter, the fun, it felt strangely… good. He glanced at you, your eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Gods” he breathed, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "This is the best day of your life, isn't it?"

You couldn't help but laugh, a genuine, unrestrained laugh that filled the cabin. "Hell yeah it is" you replied as you offer him make up wipes.

v. the reconcile

Night had fallen, painting the sky with shimmering stars. The campfire illuminated the campers´ face, its flames dancing higher as the Apollo cabin filled the air with joyful camp songs. Laughter mingled with the strumming of guitars and lyres, creating a symphony of pure summer camp bliss.

The fire itself danced in response to the campers' emotions. It roared a little higher with every burst of laughter, dimmed momentarily during a quiet story, and flickered with a playful intensity as the Hermes boys, fueled by their mischievous exploits, recounted their version of the day's events.

You sat by the fire, poking a marshmallow with a stick, watching the scene unfold. Their narrative, of course, focused heavily on your supposed "torture" of Luke. Specially the Stoll brothers; they painted a picture of you as a ruthless makeup artist, a waxer who pealed Luke´s skin off and left his face shining like marble. Meanwhile, Luke simply sat there, a faint smile playing on his lips.

You noticed the Hermes boys regaling other campers with their story, punctuated by bursts of laughter. And yes, you didn´t like to admit it but, you'd lost the bet. Technically. But watching Luke handle their teasing with surprising grace, a hint of amusement in his eyes, filled you with a strange satisfaction.

You were there by yourself for a few more minutes. The camp sounds filling your ears as you tried your best not to stuff your face in all the toasted marshmallows your sisters offered you. Your hands felt tired, because yes, even though what you did was not too much for you to handle, Luke squirmed and behaved like a worm covered in salt, which only made your work harder.

Just then, a figure settled in front of you. Luke. He held two sticks, each crowned with a perfectly toasted marshmallow. He offered one to you, his usual smirk replaced by a genuine smile.

"Truce?" he asked, his voice laced with a playful challenge.

You couldn't help but grin, accepting the marshmallow with a playful jab. "Truce"

He sat beside you, the marshmallow on his stick disappearing in one swift, hungry bite. Suddenly, you leaned in closer, feigning seriousness. "Oh dear" you said, your voice laced with mock concern.

Luke raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "What is it now?"

"You've got a blackhead. Right, there" you declared, pointing to a non-existent imperfection on his nose.

His eyes widened in mock horror. "No way! I´m not letting you touch my face again" He swatted at your hand playfully, but you were quicker.

"Hold still, you wriggly worm" you teased, pretending to grab his nose. A playful fight ensued, a flurry of limbs and laughter. You managed to land a swipe at his cheek with a gooey bit of marshmallow.

Finally, breathless with laughter, you both settled back down, enjoying the warmth of the fire and the quiet camaraderie. As you bit into your marshmallow, a comfortable silence settled between you.

"So, about that bet" he began, wiping his marshmallow-streaked hands on his cargo pants.

You turned to look at him, still chewing on another marshmallow and a piece of melted chocolate. "Yeah?"

"I don't want you to clean my cabin" he explained.

"Why not? I lost the bet" you replied, surprised by his sudden declaration.

He looked at the sky, a hint of pink dusting his cheeks. "Yeah, but… We're kind of a mess, actually. I would feel bad if you did it alone."

"Aww, Castellan, are you worried about little ol' me?" you teased him, squeezing his cheek playfully. He blushed a deeper shade of red, looking positively flustered.

"Maybe" he mumbled, avoiding your gaze.

"Okay, here's a deal" you continued, trying to cover your own blush. "I'll clean your cabin, but you have to help me. I really don't wanna get into dirty-underwear-business."

Luke considered this for a moment, then a grin spread across his face. "Deal. But I'm warning you, there might be some things you shouldn´t even try to touch with bare hands. And I mean Travis´ and Connor´s bunks”

From a distance, a group of campers — a mix of Hermes, Apollo, and Hephaestus cabins —watched your exchange with keen interest. The playful teasing, the way your hands brushed as you made your deal — it was all too much for their already overactive imaginations.

"I bet you fifteen bucks he's gonna ask her out by the end of the week" an Apollo camper, Lee, declared.

Chris snorted. "That's weak. Twenty bucks says he does it tonight."

hiiya, just thought I could write something different to what I usually do. hope you enjoyed <3 🩷

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