#What I’ve been waiting for all this time | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

spideyjimin · 3 days ago

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Bloodlines entwined: I | jjk

⤷ having a baby alone was supposed to be easy. but an accidental twist of fate pulled you into a hidden world of werewolves, and ancient bloodlines. navigating your already complicated life becomes even harder as you uncover your past; one tied to a legacy you never knew existed. and in the middle of this chaos stands jungkook, the werewolf king… and the father of your child.

— pairing: werewolf!jungkook x female reader

— genre: strangers to lovers, parents-to-be au, royalty au, werewolves au, soulmates au, angst, fluff, and smut

— rating: 18+

— words: 7,213

— warnings: strong language, mention of death, mention of murder, mention of loneliness, mention of blood, several mentions of abortion, and crying

— author’s note: here it is the first chapter of this series! <3 i’m actually very excited about this entire universe, i’ve been working on it for a little while already & i’ve been taking my time to write each part 🤗 the beginning is inspired by Jane the Virgin and the Flash as they are both my favorite shows ✨ i hope you’ll enjoy this part & don’t hesitate to let me know what you think 😊

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Chapter I: when worlds collide

SERIES MASTERLIST | next

Sitting in your car, you’ve been looking blinkingly at the windshield, hands trembling against the steering wheel. For ten whole minutes, you’ve been frozen like this as if moving would shatter the fragile sense of calm you’ve barely managed to hold together.

Your life is about to drastically change; you know it deep down.

“The deed is done,” you whisper to yourself.

You let out a shaky breath, and your reflection in the rearview mirror catches your eye. You look exhausted, your eyes wide and glistening.

For two years, this moment has been building. You have thoughtfully considered having a child on your own. At first, it was just a random thought that crossed your mind, a curiosity born on one of those quiet, lonely moments where life felt both too much and not enough. Then, you deeply thought about it. The idea rooted itself deep within you, anchoring into something raw and tender: a longing to create a family on your own terms.

After much research and consideration, you decided to go for it.

Many people couldn’t understand your choice, but honestly, you don’t give two shits about others’ opinions. What did matter to you was the support of close family and friends.

Felix, the man who raised you after your parents were stolen from you, proposed to accompany you to the fertility clinic, but you gently declined his offer. This was something you wanted to do by yourself. Well, you just came alone to be inseminated. Other than that, he has been by your side every step of the way.

He helped you to go through the countless donor profiles, and every document needed for this adventure of yours.

The process was a bit long and emotionally draining. The first steps were more like an evaluation, mostly for the clinic to understand your reasons and ensure you’ve deeply thought about all the aspects. Having a kid alone isn’t just about fulfilling your dreams but also about building a life for a child.

Once you’ve successfully completed those steps, you had to choose the donor. There were a lot of choices; it was like going grocery shopping. You were handed a catalog of potential donors with their medical histories and first names. It felt odd to be choosing the progenitor like this. After going through every profile, one of them stood out.

Following the donor selection, your cycles and hormone levels were tracked. When all was good, you’d get inseminated on your ovulation period, which technically is happening this week.

So, ten minutes ago, you walked out of the clinic after being artificially knocked up.

If your egg is fertilized, in nine months, you’ll welcome your very much desired baby. A tiny human who will call you mom. You already picked the names, one for a girl, one for a boy. You simply can’t wait to welcome a tiny human in your life. Hopefully, the life of your baby will be better than yours.

You lean your head against the steering wheel, closing your eyes as the ghosts of your past surface.

Twenty years ago, your life was turned upside down when a terrible murderer put an end to your parents’ lives. Nobody ever found him or her; it’s like the person completely vanished into the night. That person left behind a little girl with questions nobody could ever answer and scars nobody could understand.

Since you didn’t have any family left, you were raised by your father’s best friend, Felix. Over time, he became like a second father to you. Even though you were full of anger when he took you over, he stayed by your side and helped you navigate this sad reality; one where your parents weren’t part of anymore.

His daughter, Lexi is your age. You were already so close, and living under the same roof brought you even closer. She’s your super best friend, almost like a sister today. A smile grows on your face as you think of her. Your life would have been a nightmare without her.

Lexi was the first person to be aware of this desire to become a single mother. She even pushed you to do it as soon as you could, and she has encouraged you like nobody else. She also helped you select a donor; she even made fun of the names of some of them.

Your phone buzzes; the name and picture of Lexi appearing on the screen.

“Hi,” you say when you pick up.

“Soo,” she says. “How did it go?”

“Good, I guess?” you say with clear hesitation. “The doctor just inserted a thin catheter, looked at the screen, and said it was done,” you explain. “Now we just have to wait.”

Waiting is now the worst part, especially since you decided not to take any pregnancy test until the next appointment. Meaning, you have to wait two full weeks.

“Let’s hope the donor’s little swimmers are good ones,” she says.

While you always wanted to have a kid, Lexi never wanted one. You and her are total opposites but that’s what helped create such a strong bond between you. “Yeah, let’s hope for that,” you smile.

Two weeks later

A couple of days ago, you took a blood test, and now, you’re in the waiting room, patiently waiting for the doctor to call you up.

These past two weeks, you’ve been internally battling to take a pregnancy test. It’s been hard to fight the urge to discover beforehand if you’re expecting or not. On your way to the clinic, your heart was beating extremely fast with nervousness. Even the music playing in the car didn’t seem to calm you down.

Even though you’re extremely nervous, a part of you knows. You can’t explain it, but you feel it deep down. Two nights ago, you were lying in bed completely exhausted after an intense day at work. The rhythm of your heartbeat was rocking you to sleep. Amidst the thrum of your own heart, you swear you could hear a faint, smaller, and quicker rhythm.

You instantly opened your eyes, scanning the room. The sound wasn’t coming from outside. It felt like it was inside you. You stayed perfectly still, listening to that tiny sound. That night, you were rocked to sleep by that new rhythm.

The morning after, as you caught your reflection in the bathroom’s mirror, something felt off. Your brows furrowed as you noticed your own scent was different. It felt like it was mixed with somebody else’s scent, but it wasn’t as strong as yours or any other living human. It was extremely odd.

After a little while, the doctor says your name, and with shaky legs, you walk to her office. Your heart is beating at a very crazy pace, ready to burst at any moment. This is so stressful; it feels like time is moving so slowly.

“Hello yn,” the doctor smiles at you while you’re entering the room. “How have you been feeling?” you now take a seat.

“I’m good, thanks,” you smile back at her.

She sits down at her desk and takes a look at her computer.

“So, did you take any pregnancy test?” she asks.

“No, no,” you answer. “I wanted to keep the surprise for today.”

“I see,” she looks again at her screen before taping on her keyboard.

She seems to quickly read something before her smile widens. Your heart is going completely crazy. It really makes you nervous, and you try to mentally prepare yourself to receive the bad news as well. It’ll definitely break your heart but you’ll try again.

This entire process is quite expensive, but the payment can be spread out over time rather than made in one shot. With this first payment, you have the right to three attempts. If pregnancy isn’t achieved after those attempts, you’ll have to go through another round and pay for additional attempts.

The doctor mentioned that usually, it takes about three to six attempts to achieve a successful pregnancy. Hopefully, you’ll get pregnant within those first three tries. You’re not entirely sure you’ll be able to afford another round of insemination.

“Well, it looks like it only took you one try to conceive,” she informs you.

And right there, your heart bursts with joy. There’s indeed a little human being growing inside you. You’ll become a mother in nine months. You can’t believe it.

A little tear runs down your face as you hear the good news. It’s such a relief. You won't have to worry about coming back for another round.

“That’s good news,” you clean the tear on your cheek.

“It is indeed,” she says. “In four weeks more or less, we’ll plan an ultrasound to confirm the embryo’s implantation and check for a heartbeat,” she adds.

Well, you’ll still get worried about that because maybe until there, your baby will not survive. But you need to remain positive. No need to start stressing about it; you promised yourself that you’ll try to remain calm the entirety of the process and pregnancy so you’ll offer a great beginning of life to your baby.

“I’m very hopeful everything will go well because both you and the donor are in good health,” she says.

“Let’s hope for that,” you answer.

You then proceed to schedule the next appointment in four weeks. You can’t hide the immense smile on your face. This is the best news you got today. Nothing else will ever be possible to ruin this day.

When you leave the clinic, you instantly call Lexi.

“I AM PREGNANT!” you scream with excitement.

“Yeeeah,” she screams as well. “I’m going to be an aunty!” she adds.

“I’m so relieved that this first attempt was successful,” you admit.

Once you get inside your car, you touch your belly to caress it.

“That baby is so lucky to have you as a mother,” she says after. “And even more lucky to join our family.”

For sure, your family will extremely love this baby. It’s such a desired baby, and everybody has been so excited.

“They’ll be so loved,” you reply.

“There’s absolutely no doubt,” she says. “Dad will be so happy about this news; he’s been so excited to become a grandpa.”

Felix has expressed lately that he couldn’t wait to welcome a baby and become a granddad. This man has raised you for twenty years, and you consider him as a second father. There’s no doubt that your baby will see him as their grandfather even if, biologically speaking, he isn’t.

When you hang up, you stare into the void for a couple of minutes. In this moment, you wish your parents would be here. They would have been so happy to become grandparents, but they won’t be by your side for this new chapter of your life.

They are also the reason why you’re doing all of this. Since they passed, there’s been a tremendous emptiness inside you that even the love of Felix couldn’t fill in. This void stems mostly from the fact that you were left alone when they were killed. You’ve been feeling so lonely since then.

Throughout your life, you tried to fill it with relationships but they all failed. As far as you can remember, you wanted to follow the traditional path to build a family. However, it never worked out. Then, one day, you saw a brochure about single mothers, and you’ve been thinking about it since then.

You’ve seen motherhood as a role that will fill this emotional void you’ve been carrying for years. Plus, you’ve also seen it as a way to finally control your life. Twenty years ago, someone decided for you what your life would become. This wasn’t fair.

And you also want to give your baby the life you never got. You want to give them a loving family that won’t disappear the second the parents die. Outside of your parents, you didn’t have a family. Based on what Felix told you, your grandparents were against your parents' relationship so they moved into another city to live freely and build a family.

Life hasn’t been fair for you, but you want to make it fair for your baby.

Two weeks later

The clinic called you this morning to urgently come in the afternoon, only making you grow concerned during the day. You kept wondering what the reason for such urgency would be. Did they notice something when they did the blood test? Did they get the wrong blood test? Are you even really pregnant?

However, you’re a hundred percent sure you’re carrying a life inside you. You haven’t had the ‘normal’ early symptoms yet, but you can feel your baby inside you. The faint heartbeat can still be heard, and there’s still that subtle scent interwoven with yours.

For the past two weeks, you’ve repeatedly inhaled this new scent, almost to make sure you weren’t hallucinating. Most of the time, you wondered if it wasn’t something like blood, sweat, or the smell of your new shampoo. It was definitely an earthly one. One that only a human can possess.

Once inside the clinic, you’re instantly installed in the doctor’s room. Your heart is crazily beating inside your chest; you’re so nervous right now. Seconds later, a man joins you in the room.

At first glance, you’d think he is the CEO of a huge company. He’s fully dressed in a black suit with a white shirt underneath, his hands casually placed in his pants pockets. This man is extremely charismatic; something about him draws you in.

The man looks at you while frowning, his eyes moving from your eyes to your belly. By reflex, you cover your stomach with your hands. He’s making you uncomfortable with his intense stare.

He has a very strong bestial scent, it predominates his cologne. Everything about him is imposing, even the way his heart beats; it’s so calm while yours is completely erratic. The man’s eyes are clued on you.

The doctor arrives right after and closes the door behind her. Her face is quite serious; she even seems concerned.

“Miss y/l/n,” she takes a seat at her desk. “Mister Jeon,” she looks at the man behind you. “Please take a seat.”

The two of you sit down next to each other with apprehension. You can hear his heart beating a little faster, but he remains extremely calm on the outside.

“There’s been a mistake,” she starts saying.

The words hang in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. The doctor pauses, giving you time to absorb the gravity of the statement. Her tone is gentle, but at the same time professional.

The sterile, cold walls of the room seem to close in around you as the doctor’s words pierce through your thoughts.

“There was a mix-up with the sample…” your breath is caught in your throat, your hands trembling. “We were supposed to inseminate you with the donor sample you selected. We still don’t know how but you got inseminated with Mister Jeon’s sample.”

Your eyes look at the man sitting next to you. All you can see in his eyes is the same disbelief that reflects your own. So, this is your child’s father.

Many questions cross your mind, but they remain unspoken, lodged in your throat.

“We truly apologize for our mistake,” she says. “We were totally aware you both wanted to have a child alone.”

You desired nothing more than being alone in this adventure; you didn’t want a present father. That was the whole point of a donor. Now, you know the father of your child, and he’d probably like to be present.

For the past months, you went through a series of questions regarding the fact that you’ll raise your child alone. They asked you many times how you’d explain to your child that they don’t have a father. This now feels like a complete waste of time.

“We understand the nature of this situation. We will refund the totality of the treatment’s costs. We can also terminate the pregnancy if you both wish.”

Those words seem so heavy and yet, they represent the reality of the choice you now have to face. A knot tightens in your stomach at the thought of undoing something you wished for so long. The baby is now growing inside of you, you’ve got used to falling asleep with their tiny heartbeat. The only thought of not having it anymore breaks your heart beyond comprehension.

Right now, everything—your carefully constructed plans, your hopes, the small life growing inside you—seems to be slipping through your fingers.

Mister Jeon is silent beside you, his hands clenched into fists on his knees. He seems as stunned as you, but you can’t help but think that there’s something else there too. Something deeper and darker.

You ignore if he’s thinking the same thing as you, but you can feel it: the strange twist of fate pulling you both into an unknown world, one you both hadn’t planned for.

“You still have some time to decide, of course,” the doctor’s voice is still very soft.

Time seems irrelevant now. There’s a choice you need to make; a choice you didn’t expect to face. You swallow hard, your heart racing inside your chest. Your hands caress your belly through your shirt while you only hear the baby’s fragile heartbeat.

This isn’t supposed to happen. This can’t be real.

Jungkook’s face went pale as the doctor’s words sank in.

“There’s been a mistake,” she starts saying.

Just like you, the room’s white walls feel suffocating, the air thick with a tension he can’t shake. A mistake. His mistake. He tried to avoid this situation. He was supposed to go through surrogacy to guarantee a child that would uphold his lineage. His werewolf lineage, pure and untouched by human blood.

“There was a mix-up with the sample…” the doctor’s words hang up in the air like a death sentence. “We were supposed to inseminate you with the donor sample you selected. We still don’t know how but you got inseminated with Mister Jeon’s sample.”

His eyes quickly look at you, and he notices how much you’re shaking. It seems like you’re in a more devasted state than he is.

“We truly apologize for our mistake,” she says. “We were totally aware you both wanted to have a child alone.”

Jungkook blinks, trying to absorb what is happening. A human child. Nonetheless, his child. Having children with humans isn’t just a personal choice; it’s a fundamental rule of the werewolf society. The very foundation of his power as the king depends on the purity of his bloodline. To break the rule is to risk everything.

He knows better than anyone what happens to the werewolf-human hybrid kids together with the parents. They are killed by the pack. Being a king doesn’t make him the exception to the rule. If this pregnancy goes to full term, not only will he be killed, but the baby and the lady sitting next to him will too.

You didn’t ask for any of this. You don’t deserve to die because of a mistake.

His gaze filled with frustration and panic moves toward you once more as his pulse quickens. He wanted control over the situation. He never intended to father a hybrid child. And now, not only is he involved in this pregnancy, but the child is going to carry his blood mixed with human genetics. God only knows what can happen to this kid, genetically speaking.

“We understand the nature of this situation. We will refund the totality of the treatment costs. We can also terminate the pregnancy if you both wish.”

‘This can’t be happening’, he thinks.

His eyes move back to the doctors, his hands clenched into fists. The thought of the entire werewolf community learning of this is unbearable. And what is his mother going to think of this?

She was the first person to support him in this surrogacy journey. She knew how important it was for him to have a child as soon as possible because he’d been struggling to find someone with whom he’d mate. Having an heir is the first thing a king should do to ensure the legacy.

Now, he’s about to have a child with a human. That’s not possible. This child won’t have a pure bloodline, this child can’t ever be an heir.

“You still have some time to decide, of course,” the doctor’s voice is still very soft.

The idea of termination seems dreadful, but the possibility of a hybrid child heir seems even worse. His responsibility as king, and the traditions that have been in place for centuries don’t allow for such breach. To raise a kid with human blood would mean instant disgrace, not only for him but for his entire family. How could he even be respected after this?

His entire world is slipping through his fingers. His position as king is now in jeopardy. This baby will destabilize the entire werewolf community. Nobody will respect him and will only see him as weak. Weak for having a human child.

There’s no going back. His mind tries to find a solution to fix this, or how to undo this. The idea of raising a child with a human—no matter how much it is his responsibility—is unthinkable. He never desired this and hasn’t even considered it. He has been so focused on maintaining his bloodline that the idea of a mistake happening never crossed his mind.

Your presence beside him destabilizes him beyond comprehension. He can see the confusion in your eyes mixed with disbelief. You can’t comprehend the extension of this entire problem. You can’t even comprehend the danger of mixing bloodlines, because you aren’t a werewolf.

Jungkook stands in silence for a moment, his mind racing with thoughts. Terminating this pregnancy isn’t something he desires, but having a child with a human is simply impossible. His heart beats too crazily, and he can hear yours beating just as fast. His heart and duty are pulling him in two different directions.

Finally, his eyes meet yours. His voice is soft but it carries a heavy weight. “We need to decide. This affects both of us.”

After what felt like an eternity, you both leave the room completely shaken up by the news you just got. How could this be happening?

As you’re both walking in the clinic in the parking lot’s direction, none of you dares to speak. You’re a complete stranger to Jungkook. All he knows is that you’re a human carrying his child.

“I can’t have that child,” he finally breaks the silence.

His words cause you to stop.

“It’s too early for me to consider terminating this pregnancy,” you admit. “I need time.”

Jungkook understands your perspective. It’s not a decision you lightly take, especially if you’ve come to this clinic to have a child. It’d be completely absurd to abort after going through this entire process.

“Of course,” he says. “But I want you to know my point of view.”

You nod, understanding his perspective as well. This is such a horrible situation. Jungkook wanted to have an heir while you simply wanted to have a child on your own. On top of that, he doesn’t look like the donor you selected.

“So if I decide to keep it, would you be out?” you ask.

Jungkook considers your words. There’s a possibility that the baby could still exist, but he wouldn’t be part of their life. He’d still be losing because he wants a child, but at least this way, his position wouldn’t be jeopardized, and no one would get hurt or killed.

“It’s possible,” he honestly answers.

You nod once more. Even though he decides not to be part of his child’s life, he’d still know that he has a kid somewhere. He wouldn’t have any trouble finding you; he already knows your smell, and he has the means to find you.

“Okay,” you say.

Jungkook watches you take a pen and paper from your purse before writing something.

“This is my phone number,” you hand him the piece of paper. “In case you change your mind or take a decision.”

The man takes the piece of paper while you give him a small smile. You start walking away, his eyes following you until you disappear inside a car.

In this situation, he definitely would like to ask his mother for advice, but he can’t. He already knows the answer she’ll give him. ‘This baby can’t exist.’ And she’s right, but he can’t force you to terminate the pregnancy. It’s your body after all.

In the eventuality that you decide to proceed with the pregnancy, he guesses he’ll let you be a mother alone and pretend like this kid doesn’t exist.

You’ve spent the last two days crying in bed. The conversation with the doctor and this mysterious Mister Jeon has been playing over and over in your head. You can still picture everything so clearly; the white walls of the doctor’s room, the apologies from the doctor, and Mister Jeon’s piercing gaze.

‘There’s been a mistake,’ ‘There was a mix-up with the sample,’ the words still echo in your mind.

You’ve been trying to make sense of how such a monumental mistake has happened. But nothing seems to make sense. The clinic did this; the clinic took control over your decision. This chapter of your life was about you gaining control, but once more, someone decided for you. It’s been making you angry.

You’re furious at the clinic and their negligence. You trusted them with your project of building your own family. However, they decided otherwise.

But underneath that anger, there’s another fury; one directed to yourself. You were so focused on having a child on your own terms that you didn’t stop to consider the what-ifs. You didn’t stop to consider that something might go wrong. And now, you are here.

You’ve been staring at the ceiling for hours now, your mind trying to find a solution. Do you keep this baby? Do you terminate the pregnancy?

This choice feels impossible. It feels like no matter what your life will completely change.

But deep down, you somehow feel some kind of relief. Because when Mister Jeon—this intense and charismatic man—said there was a possibility he’d walk away, that he’d leave you to raise this child alone, you felt lighter.

His potential absence is appealing. It aligns with your original choice, to be a single mother. A choice where your child is yours, and yours alone. But then, there’s also a possibility where he stays, or that he comes back later. What would happen then?

You press your hands against your face while a guttural growl leaves your lips. This is so damn frustrating. This should be simple. Because now, you’re left wondering what you want. Do you want to walk away from this and stick to the original plan? Or do you want to embrace this chaos, and see where this might lead?

Your hands slide down to your stomach, caressing it while you hear again the tiny heartbeat. This sound comforts you which makes you close your eyes.

For now, you don’t have any answers to all your questions. You’re not even sure you’ll have them tomorrow. For now, you’ll let yourself breathe. You’ll let yourself feel. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll find the answers.

The sound of your phone ringing pushes you out of your own thoughts, informing you that you received a message. You sit on your bed before grabbing the phone on the nightstand. You received a message from an unknown number. By curiosity, you unlock your phone to read it. To your surprise, it’s the famous and mysterious Mister Jeon.

From unknown: hi miss y/l/n, this is jeon jungkook, the father of your child. i’d like to meet you to discuss the matter. would you be free tonight?

Your heart hammers inside your chest, ready to burst at any second. He contacted you sooner than expected. You were thinking that you wouldn’t hear anything from him for at least a week. You thought you’d have more time to make a decision before meeting him. Now, it seems you don’t, and that you’ll have a very interesting conversation with him tonight.

With shaky hands, you start typing your answer.

To unknown: hello mister jeon, we could meet tonight

When you press ‘send’, you stare at the conversation, waiting for an answer. Mister Jeon responds instantly to your message, proposing to meet in a town square. You accept the suggestion and quickly go to your clothes cupboard to pick up an outfit.

The man seems very impressive, and you want to be presentable. He’s after all the progenitor of the life growing inside you.

A couple of hours later, you take the road to the meeting point. Surprisingly, you’ve remained calm for the entire drive. Driving is actually the only thing able to calm your tormented soul. Whenever you go through something very intense, you just drive to clear your mind.

However, since this pregnancy thing, even driving hasn’t been able to help you out. You tried to drive yesterday, but it only made things worse. So it definitely surprises you that you’ve been able to clear your mind before meeting Mister Jeon.

When you arrive, he’s already there waiting for you. He’s not wearing a suit, quite the contrary. His outfit is only made of a grey sweater with a blue pair of jeans. His hair isn’t perfectly pushed back as it was two days ago. It feels like you’re meeting a completely different person.

When he sees you, he stands up. As he does so, you notice he holds a box in his right hand. It’s a small one, but it still intrigues you.

“Good evening, miss y/l/n,” he says.

“Good evening, mister Jeon,” you say back.

His presence is still very imposing, but the fact that he isn’t wearing a suit anymore changes it a bit. He seems more approachable than he was in the clinic.

“Please call me Jungkook,” he offers you a small smile.

It’s the first time you see him smiling, and it feels like a very warm one. Beneath it all and in the midst of the city noise, you can perceive his heartbeat. It’s quite rapid which makes you tilt your head. Is he nervous?

“You can call me yn as well,” you smile back at him.

“I’ve brought you a box with some pastries,” he hands you the box. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like.”

Your smile grows wider at his simple but heartwarming gesture. This wasn’t expected, but it lightens the mood. Jungkook seems to be a nice person which contrasts with the cold and unreadable person he seemed two days ago.

“Thanks,” you say while grabbing the little box. “You didn’t need to,” your eyes look up at him.

After that, you both sit down on the bench he was on before you arrived. By the way he rubs his hands on his tights, you can tell that he’s a bit nervous. You try not to overanalyze him, because you know your mind will go crazy, full of questions.

“What is happening is really crazy,” he admits with obvious nervousness. “I never imagined things would go this way,” you nod.

Jungkook looks everywhere, except at you. It seems like he isn’t brave enough to face you, almost like a teenager confessing his love.

“As I told you two days ago, I can’t have this child,” he finally speaks. “I really would love to, but I’d put the three of us in danger.”

Your heart starts beating rapidly. What does he mean by ‘putting you in danger’? Does he come from a crazy family? Is he part of the mafia? This is scaring the hell out of you.

“We didn’t know each other up until two days ago, and you don’t deserve to be put in danger because of a stupid mistake the clinic did,” he seems angry when he mentions the mistake. “But I can’t force you to terminate the pregnancy, it’s your body, and it was also your wish to have a child. I can’t take that away from you.”

It kind of surprises you how respectful he is. Any other man in his position could have forced or paid you to put an end to this pregnancy. It’s really admirable.

“In case you want to keep going with it, I just want you to know that I’ll step away, and I will never come back to reclaim a role I refused from the beginning.”

You wonder what the reasons behind his decision could be. This man desired to have a child but is now refusing to have one with you because of a mistake.

“To be honest with you, I don’t know what to do,” you admit.

His piercing eyes finally look at you. For a split second, you can swear that they were red. Red like blood. This destabilizes you, and you furrow your eyebrows. You’re not sure if you’re being delirious or if this is real.

“I wanted to become a mother, but not like this,” you continue, still destabilized by what you just saw. “So it leaves me wondering what I should do. But if you walk away, I’ll be more tempted to keep the baby because, in the end, it’ll go as I planned.”

In an unexplainable way, this man puts you at ease. It feels like you can confess how you truly feel about this situation without being judged by him. This man exudes serenity which draws you even more to him.

“I get that,” he says.

For a brief moment, you only look at him while your heart peacefully beats in your chest. His dark eyes stare right into your soul, and it feels like the world completely stopped. There’s just the two of you. But Jungkook breaks the contact, looking in another direction.

“If you decide to keep the child and need any financial help, I can give it to you,” he speaks.

This man definitely seems like a good guy, and you wonder even more why he’s walking away from this.

“I won’t,” you answer. “I wouldn’t have done this if I didn’t have any means to take care of the baby.”

For sure you need financial stability to be a single mother, and you would have never embarked on this adventure without having it.

Jungkook runs his fingers through his fluffy hair, avoiding still your gaze. “Can I ask why you want to become a single mom?”

The question catches you off guard. You weren’t expecting this man—this stranger—to be interested in you.

“I didn’t have an easy life and I grew up without my parents,” you confess. “Motherhood was something I aspired to have in my life since I’m very young, and I’ve desired to give to my child everything I didn’t have. No matter if it was with someone or alone.”

Your eyes shift from Jungkook to the square full of people. It’s never easy to express out loud and to a complete stranger why you embarked on this adventure. Mentioning your parents is actually never easy; even after all this time.

Suddenly, you feel Jungkook’s gaze on you, but he doesn’t say anything. He just stares at you in complete silence. For once in your life, people’s heartbeats and scents don’t suffocate you. You can hear and smell them, but it’s like it doesn’t matter.

For as long as you can remember, you’ve had those developed skills. You can hear stuff from afar, and you can strongly smell people’s natural body’s scent. Since it’s kind of ‘normal’ to you, you got used to it; but sometimes, and especially when you’re in the middle of heavy crowds, it suffocates you. It becomes simply too much.

This is something you never told anyone, too scared to be judged. Undoubtedly, people would say you’ve gone crazy due to the trauma of losing your parents. Not even Felix or Lexi knows about it. They just think you’re agoraphobic.

However, lately, you’ve been trying to go to some crowded place to overcome this suffocating feeling. You ignore why you’ve been doing it, but you’ve been doing it. It’s still too much, but today, next to this complete stranger, it doesn’t feel like it.

“I’m sorry you lost your parents,” he whispers.

You turn to look at him to offer him a little smile.

“Thanks,” you mumble. “Can I also ask you why you’re doing this?” you dare to ask.

Jungkook nods before looking away once more. It definitely looks like it’s hard for him to hold your gaze.

“In my world,” he starts saying. “I have heavy responsibilities, and having a child is one of them. But I can’t have one with anybody. I’m very limited in who is the biological mother so that’s why I can’t have one with you.”

You almost feel offended by his words. In which kind of world can’t you be the mother of his child? It’s completely crazy!

“Oh,” you simply say.

“You could have been the surrogate…” you can hear some kind of chuckle. “But never the progenitor.”

“It’s seems like a tough world.”

His eyes look again at you; you can see that he seems to hesitate with the answer.

“It isn’t,” he finally says. “But it is with me.”

Obviously, he carefully chose his words.

“Well, I hope you’ll find the right mother for your child,” you offer him once more a little smile.

“Thanks,” he smiles back at you.

The two of you look back again at the people walking in the town square. They are walking around you, ignoring totally what you’re going through, what tough decision you have to make. They ignore everything about you, just as you ignore everything about them…

“I’m sorry about all of this,” he adds.

“It’s not your fault,” you answer. “It’s the clinic’s.”

Jungkook shifts uncomfortably, his gaze fixed on the people walking in front of you. His heart is racing and piercing through your ears. He’s even more nervous than he was before, and it concerns you a bit. But you don’t say anything, too afraid to scare him off if you reveal you can hear his heartbeat.

“Yn…” he starts. “There’s something you need to know,” his voice is deep and low at the same time. It’s so low that it almost drowns out by the distant chatter of people passing by.

You turn to look at him, your brow furrowing. “Okay,” you whisper.

Jungkook takes a deep breath, his jaw tightening before he exhales. His eyes don’t meet yours immediately, but when he does, there’s an intensity that makes your stomach twist.

“When I said my world is different,” he swallows with difficulty. “I don’t mean it in a metaphorical sense. My world, my reality is not the same as yours.”

You frown even more, confusion plastered all over your face. You’re definitely incredibly confused. How could his world be different than yours? You live on the same planet, and breathe the same air. How could it be not the same?

“What do you mean?”

Jungkook gets closer, his voice dropping even lower, barely audible. However, you still hear it perfectly.

“I am not entirely human, yn.”

Your breath catches in your throat, your heart skipping a beat. You stare at him while waiting for him to elaborate. However, Jungkook just stares at you, waiting for your reaction.

“What do you mean by ‘not entirely human’?” you tilt your head.

For a couple of seconds, he doesn’t speak, almost as if he’s scared to reveal his true nature to you.

“I’m a werewolf.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and impossible to ignore. It leaves you wondering if this man is of sound mind. Right now, you’re slightly concerned about his mental health, and the future of your child, if you keep them.

Your first reaction is to laugh, dismissing his words as if it is some kind of twisted joke. But the look on his face tells you that he’s deadly serious. This isn’t a joke.

“A werewolf?” you repeat to make sure you hear it well.

Jungkook nods. He looks tense and he maintains his deep glance on you.

“It’s why I can’t have this child,” he starts to explain. “In my world, bloodlines matter. Werewolf bloodlines are sacred, and the continuation of my lineage isn’t just about having a child. It’s about having the right child with the right kind of mother.”

The weight of his words crashes over you like a tidal wave. You stand up, your hands running through your hair. Your mind is spinning, and your pulse thunders in your ears. This is something you definitely weren’t expecting to hear today.

Werewolves? You’re carrying the child of a werewolf?

This sounds like it comes straight from a fantasy movie.

“This doesn’t feel real,” you whisper to yourself but Jungkook hears it.

“I didn’t want you to be dragged into this world, but you deserve the truth.”

You keep your back turned to him while you cross your arms against your chest.

“This is something you need to consider if you decide to keep the baby.”

At his words, you freeze. Instinctively, your hands down move to your stomach. Jungkook’s eyes follow your hands.

“Is this…” your voice trembles. “Is this a viable child?”

If you want to keep going with this pregnancy, you need to know if this baby can survive.

“There wouldn’t be any reason why this child wouldn’t survive because of mixed blood,” he stands up and gets close to you. “But as they grow up, they’ll develop werewolf abilities. And, one day, they’ll probably turn into one. It’s pretty unpredictable, though. There’s never been a human-werewolf hybrid before.”

Damn, this is leaving you speechless. How can this be real? Werewolves are supposed to exist in movies, not in real life.

“This is insane,” you rub your hands on your face. “This can’t be real.”

Jungkook steps closer. His presence is grounding but nonetheless overwhelming.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” you demand, your voice filled with panic.

Before you can blink, he gets even closer to you. He’s in front of you in an instant, his hand gently grabbing yours. Your eyes look down at his hand as you notice it changing. His fingers elongate, his nails sharpen into claws, and the texture of his skin turns into something more beastly. Slowly, your eyes look up, and what you see completely freezes your body. His eyes glow a deep, predatory red, and there’s something undeniably wolfish about them.

You take a step back while setting your hand free. As you do so, Jungkook shifts back, his hand returns to its normal form, and his eyes fade back to a human form. The transformation is so quick that it almost feels like you imagined it.

“So what happens now?” you ask.

Jungkook’s gaze softens at your words.

“That depends on you, yn.”

Please note that the taglist is closed

#bts #bts fanfic #bts imagine #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #bts angst #jungkook angst #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bloodlines entwined #spideyjimin

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stealingyourbones · 23 hours ago

Note

Danny, being a halfa, falls under the strange category of people who can converse with the dead and act in their names. Most mediums simply convey messages. It was rare for someone to be able to fulfill a ghost’s dying request and have that act tied to the ghost’s core.

Honestly it’s annoying.

He doesn’t get any alone time anymore for homework or hobbies. The dead are constantly pestering Danny to help with their desires - which, sure, it helps them move on which means they’re out of Danny’s hair, but come on!! Give a guy a break! Just because he doesn’t need as much sleep as a fully living person doesn’t mean he can go without entirely!

“No Scott,” Danny repeated for the fifth time, “I am not flying to California tonight. Do you know how far that is? Literally the other coast of this massive continent. Meet me there in August like everyone else on the list.”

Spending the first spring break of college creating a map and calendar for Last Rites was not something Danny expected when he moved to Gotham.

Why did this city have so many ghosts?! It was ridiculous. And he thought Amity Park was bad? At least the ghosts here were mostly Shades. Not visible to anyone unless they were also dead-adjacent or had The Sight or a bloodline curse or a magical amulet… you know what? There were enough of those in this curse ridden city, why couldn’t these ghosts go find one of those people instead? Danny was exhausted.

So exhausted he didn’t notice the vigilante dropping down from the rooftop.

“Hey there kid, you alri-”

“Yeah yeah,” Danny waved a hand dismissively at the voice without looking up. “Wait in line like everyone else. But honestly you’d be better off coming back tomorrow when I’ve had some sleep.”

“Think maybe you outta get started on that sleep now, bud?” the voice behind him spoke in a calm careful tone.

One Danny had heard all too often since dying.

His head jerked sideways to stare wide-eyed at Nightwing, who tensed just a little as if expecting Danny to run or fight. Instead he let out a groan and slumped onto the park bench, rubbing his eyes to ease the burn of fatigue. He’d been coming out to this park at the corner of campus each night to keep the Shades from mobbing him all day long in classes, but they’d spread the word around Gotham that he was here and his precious spring break had become a non-stop line of requests and arguments. Made sense he’d caught the attention of one of the Bats. Should have expected it sooner.

Danny ignored all the voices around him and looked at Nightwing directly as he prattled off his usual list when someone caught him talking to thin air.

“No, I’m not hallucinating. I got all my Rogue Gallery immunizations the day I checked onto campus. I’m not schizophrenic. The only meds I take are for adhd and the occasional Tylenol. I’m not a danger to myself or others. Unless they attack me first.”

Nightwing nodded along, but tilted his head at the end.

“I’m talking to the dead,” Danny answered the unspoken question in a tired monotone, waiting for the usual skepticism or plea for help with lost loved ones.

“Oh. Okay then.”

“What?” That wasn’t expected.

“No yeah, that makes sense.”

Danny was sure his jaw was on the ground. “You… you believe me?”

“Well sure,” the hero shrugged and chuckled. “I can’t see ghosts myself but I know a couple magicians who work with one, and my little brother Robin has a ghost on his team - she’s actually visible most of the time so I don’t know if that’s a special skill or something else going on. But I’m glad you’re okay and don’t need any emergency medication. I know a couple 24 hour pharmacies that would help but it’s nice when they’re not needed. We don’t get a lot of mediums around Gotham holding court at night so you really can’t fault me for checking in.”

Danny was still floating in the relief of not being questioned or doubted. That hadn’t happened since Jazz found out his secret. She’d had plenty of questions about his halfa status, of course, but never called him crazy for talking to things others couldn’t see. Even Sam and Tucker would forget sometimes and give him strange looks before realizing he was dealing with a Shade, Wisp, or Memory.

He didn’t realize he was wobbling until Nightwing’s arms shot out to stabilize him.

Danny blinked up at the pretty face that was trying not to chuckle, held by strong arms, and so far past tired he might be getting delirious after all because his brain seemed to have lost its filter and he said out loud,

“You actually believe me. I think I love you.”

Then the horrifying embarrassment hit at the same time as Nightwing’s laughter. Which… sounded delighted rather than mean spirited?

“Well now it’s your turn to wait in line, cuz that’s the fourth confession I’ve had this week!” They both devolved into snorts and giggles, Danny still relying on those arms for balance, but when they’d caught their breath the vigilante said, “Come on, you’ve really got to get some sleep. I’ll walk you back to your dorm.”

Ignoring the whispers and grumbles of the Shades was easier with someone walking beside him.

This is so incredibly cute oml. It’s so rare to see the bats actually go with the flow and god it isn’t done enough. 12/10 immaculate, glorious.

The entire plot I can see so clearly in my mind dude:

Danny chatting to Nightwing as they walk to his dorm

Nightwing asking some casual questions about ghosts and Danny asking about vigilante work.

Nightwing informs the Bats of Danny as he might be a valuable asset in the future.

Nightwing helps free shades with Danny and he realizes why Danny is so incredibly tired all the time.

Nightwing managing to stumble into Danny every day of his break, slowly getting to know each other more and more and becoming really good friends (perhaps lovers 👀).

Wonderful stuff man ty for the ask!

#dpxdc #danny phantom #dp x dc #bones replies

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reignpage · 3 days ago

Text

Forgive me, Father!

Summary: you have something to confess and Nanami is more than willing to hear you out Word Count: 2.1k Warnings: porn with little plot, fem!reader, dubcon, improper use of a confessional booth, manhandling, choking, unprotected sex, cursing, slight exhibitionism, dirty talk, squirting, blowjob, fingering, not proofread

Priest!Nanami waits for you in the confessional booth. He’s the local priest that everyone trusts, he even teaches at the orphanage, providing a stable figure for all the lost souls born here and that pass through.

“What brings you here, my child?”

Priest!Nanami’s voice is deep and gruff, vibrating against the thick wood of the booth. It pierces your core, travelling straight to your pussy. You press your legs together. This is bad, so very bad. You shouldn’t be feeling this way for him; he’s a good man, an upstanding citizen, a pillar of the community.

“F-forgive me, Father. I’ve been having bad thoughts, and I don’t know what to do.”

Priest!Nanami hums. You can see his figure through the privacy screen, the perforated divide granting only slight view of his cassock, the black robe a familiar sight, as you rest your knees on the kneeler, clasping your hands at your chest.

“Bad thoughts, you say?” He asks. “What kind of bad thoughts, my dear?”

Lips quivering you answer, “I don’t think I should say, Father. I’d hate for you to resent me.”

Priest!Nanami insists, “Oh, but how can I guide you if I do not know what path you stray down?”

“Father, I’ve been thinking of you, wondering how your body feels under your robe and dreaming of your taste. I’m so terribly sorry, Father. Forgive me!”

Priest!Nanami chuckles.

“That is very bad, indeed. I fear you have been possessed by a lustful spirit, and it must be repelled before it consumes you wholeheartedly.”

You trust him with your life, just as everyone does, so when he slides the slot beneath the privacy screen to the side, you don’t hesitate to part your lips to suck up the healing essence of his holy sceptre.

It coats your lips, salty and scalding, as you widen your jaw to take as much of him down as you can.

“Very good, my dear,” he groans. “Just a little more and you’ll be healed in no time.”

His huge cock head presses against the back of your throat, the veins rubbing against your tongue, and he begins making shallow thrusts into your hot, wet mouth.

Priest!Nanami makes a low groan and it travels straight to your pussy, urging you to take him deeper, tongue swirling around the underside of the head.

"You have a gifted mouth -ha- very gifted, indeed," he praises.

You needed this so badly. So many nights spent wondering how he feels and now your throat is being stretched to the very shape of his cock. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, the wetness of your pussy coating your inner thighs. One hand slides down your belly, pushing your dress up so you can soothe the ache.

Priest!Nanami pulls his cock away, ignoring your whines of complaint, and through the holes of the privacy screen, he chastises you, “Now now, you know better than to feed that demonic spirit with shallow pleasure. Only a trained professional can wash away that which plagues you.”

“Yes, Father.”

Priest!Nanami makes shuffling noises in his side, and with a candle as your only source of light in the penitent’s chamber, you can only see only he hasn't abandoned you, leaving you aching and soaked.

The door bangs open, light blinding you momentarily, and you stare up at the silhouette of a tall, broad figure blocking you from view. You’re still kneeling, lips glistening. He appears before you, like an angel of the night.

Priest!Nanami is smiling, glasses hiding his eyes but you know they’re gliding down your form, stopping at your heaving breasts and your exposed thighs.

“Turn and face the wall,” he barks, and then adds, “Spread your legs.”

Clambering to position, you do as he says, pressing your hands to the cold wood and keeping your legs apart. The door shuts and you’re once again encased in partial darkness. A firm hand palms your hip, and you jolt with the sudden heat.

He yanks you closer to him, ass jutting out whilst your back arches. Something long and hard presses against you. You clench down onto nothing.

“So well behaved, the Lord would be very pleased,” he mutters into your ear, hot breath tickling you.

With one hand still on your hip, the other slides across your stomach, spreading heat there before it climbs up, palming a breast and relishing in the weight. His finger tweaks the nipple poking through the thin material, blunt nails scratching your taut bud.

“Father!” You gasp, ass grinding back onto him much harder than before. Your back arches painfully.

“It is alright, my dear. It is all part of the process — we must relieve you of this evil.”

Priest!Nanami yanks the neckline, revealing your breasts. They bounce with the force and graze the wooden wall. You moan. And then the hand on your hip is inching downwards, gathering the skirt of your dress into a fist which he orders you to keep up whilst his hand explores further the apex of your thighs.

His fingers touch the soaked gusset of your panties and together you groan.

Huskily, he chuckles, “I see this is a particularly powerful spirit; you’re so desperately trying to expel its force. But be not afraid, my child, I will search deep within and seek it out for you.”

With expert work, he pushes your panties to the side and coats his fingers with your juice, using the lubricant to circle your clit. You squeal. The untainted hands of the priest feel smooth against your smouldering flesh as he rubs that bundle of nerves with unyielding pressure.

Priest!Nanami’s mouth descends on the crook of your neck, sucking the salt of your skin before licking a stripe up the expanse. His fingers go lower, pressing inside your pulsing hole.

“You’re so tight, my dear. I see I’ll have to take extra care to alleviate you of your ailment.”

He curls those fingers inside, pressing hard against that spongy spot inside you that has you leaking onto his fingers even more. Again and again, he thrusts those fingers in, making sure to hit that spot over and over, ignoring the whimpers leaving your lips. Sloshing and plopping resound in the space, there’s no shame left inside you to care about the indecent sounds he’s wrangling out of your sloppy cunt.

“Oh, Father! I think I feel the spirit leaving,” you yelp.

He mouths at your jaw, teeth scraping the skin gently but with the promise of pain, before his thumb circles your clit. And then you’re shaking, back arching and mouth slacking as you feel the pressure inside burst. An elongated moan departs your lips, reverberating against the walls.

You're struggling to keep your dress up with one hand, whilst the other holds you up on the wall. Your limbs are aching, just like your insides, melting like candle wax, flooding down your legs..

“Well done, child. Fight against the demonic spirit, just like that,” he coos as you ride his fingers.

“Father? Are you in there?”

Another voice rings out. It’s dull, coming from the outside. You still.

Priest!Nanami doesn’t respond. But he removes his fingers from inside your pussy, smearing your wetness all over your lips before pushing them inside your mouth. You suckle with no complaints.

In a low warning, he orders, “Be a good girl and keep quiet for me, yes?”

You nod.

Without hearing any rustling, he retrieves his cock from the confines of his trousers and rubs them along your slit. He’s so hard and hot, you’re resisting the urge to squeeze your thighs around it. Back and forth, he coats his length with your juices, squelches sounding out. His cock head catches on your clit, and you moan around his fingers.

“Father, may I come in? I’d like to talk to you about my son’s struggles in school. I fear I am not equipped to provide the necessary support and would like your guidance.”

Priest!Nanami he pierces your pussy with his throbbing cock. You scream into his palm, eyes rolling back. And with no further warnings, he’s dragging your hips back and forth, up and down his length.

Priest!Nanami scolds you, “Fuck, you’re so tight, my dear. What a devious cunt, trying to milk my cock before I can even -ngh- exorcise you of this demon.”

The stretch is immaculate, forcing your wet cavern to memorise the shape just as your throat had. And his cock pokes your sensitive point with every thrust, drawing dulled moans after moans from your drooling mouth, with every slap slap slap.

Messy and squelching, your pussy cries out at the huge intrusion, sucking him in and pushing him out simultaneously. He’s churning your pulsing insides, dragging his cock head all the way to that tight ring at your entrance before ramming back inside.

Priest!Nanami grunts in your ear, “You must have done -ngh- something very wrong for our Heavenly Father to weaken his protection over you, otherwise you would not have been so -ha- vulnerable to such a potent malevolent spirit.”

“I’m sorry, Father,” you beg, his fingers leaving your mouth so he can pinch your nipple, pulling it taut. “But I’m so scared!”

“No need to fret, child. I will -ha- eradicate you of all that is holding you -so tight- back from enlightenment.”

He’s pummelling his cock harder and faster inside of you, the tip kissing your cervix in a way that has you seeing his stars. Letting go of your hip, he uses his to force you into submission, skin slapping and juices flying as he knocks you back with the force.

Priest!Nanami’s hand circles your throat, squeezing every time you clench down on his cock. He’s robbing you of air, head growing lightheaded with the pressure. Your hips push back onto his.

“Father? I'm very worried for my son.”

Her pleadings continue, unacknowledged and barely heard, as he reaches deeper inside you, heavy balls slapping against your clit. You can’t ponder too long on the desperation in her voice because the priest is turning your face around to kiss you.

Priest!Nanami’s tongue dives into your mouth, seeking yours. The kiss is wet and sloppy just as you are down there, and he’s grunting with every thrust. You’re both growing more and more desperate for release, his cock ramming inside your tight cunt with an increasing tempo.

“The spirit is weakening; can you feel it?” He enquires, hand leaving your breast to pull yours away from your dress, guiding it, instead, to your lower abdomen. You can feel the outline of his massive cock going in and out. He presses your hand harder.

You feel that pressure inside grow, a sudden desire to pee overcoming you.

“No, Father! I can’t!” You whimper against the wall, hoping that the woman outside can't hear the way you’re panting, how your pussy is weeping, and how he's pounding you so hard you're seeing stars. He growls encouragements in your ear, fuelling your own pleasure.

Priest!Nanami kisses the back of your neck through the layer of sweat, tasting your skin. He leaves your hand and rubs your clit once more.

You cum.

Your vision goes black, a scream lodged in your throat as you squirt all over his cock, soaking his length and splashing against the wood.

“That’s it. Keep fucking yourself onto my cock,” he groans, still rubbing your clit as he himself cums with one hard, final thrust. Warmth explodes inside of you, painting your walls with his holy essence, punishing that demon within until it quietens down. “What a heavenly pussy, milking me so good. Such a good girl.”

“F-father? I’ll come back later,” the woman stammers.

In the distance, you hear the quick patter of feet fading further away.

You fall limp within his arm, heaving and still spasming from the effects of your orgasm. He holds you up in his arms, kissing your neck and whispering soothing compliments.

Priest!Nanami slumps onto the floor, taking you with him. Your head rests on his chest, listening to the rapid beating of his heart as he catches his breath too. His clergy collar is askew, and you fix it for him with a shaky hand. He grabs it and presses a kiss to your knuckles.

“That was a good one, Kenny,” you breathe out with a giggle. “I told you you’d enjoy it.”

He grunts in agreement. “You’re always right, honey.”

“Of course, I am. But hey! For someone who was so reluctant, you were incredible.”

He kisses your forehead.

“I think you were incredible. Your acting skills have certainly improved.”

You laugh. “You weren’t so bad yourself — you had me believing I actually have a demon inside.”

Husband!Nanami blushes and his eyes dart up to the door, a hand groping your breast like his own personal stress ball, and with a sheepish tone, he admits, “The real priest is going to have a lot to deal with after this.”

You bolt upright. “Speaking of the real priest, his break is ending any minute now, we should get going!”

The door slams open and you both look up at an unimpressed man, long hair tied up into a bun as he sighs.

“You two again?”

#Jjk x reader #Jjk fluff #Jjk smut #Nanami x reader #Nanami fluff #Nanami smut #Nanami Kento smut #nanami fic #nanami drabble #nanami oneshot #jjk oneshot #jjk drabble #jjk 18+

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kirammanswifey · 1 day ago

Text

arcane characters breaking up with you x fem reader

characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.

writer's note: gosh i loovee drama i'ts so spicy and fun! btw i cried a lot with ekko's... anyways request are open, darlings ;)

reconciliation link:

Viktor

The laboratory was shrouded in a deep silence, the kind of silence that feels heavy, as if the air itself was dense, pressing down on your chest. The light from the screens flickered in the darkness, casting shadows that moved with the rhythm of the science Viktor had created. He was there, motionless in front of the table covered in blueprints, his head lowered, as if struggling with something he couldn’t share.

You stood there for a moment, watching him in silence, waiting for him to break the silence, but something in his posture told you he wouldn’t. The distance between you felt greater than you could bear, and the knot in your stomach grew heavier with each passing second. Finally, you couldn’t take it any longer.

“Viktor…” Your voice trembled, but you forced it to sound strong. Every word felt like a challenge to your own fear. “What’s going on?”

He didn’t look at you, but his shoulders tensed. The sigh that escaped his lips was full of something you couldn’t recognize. It wasn’t frustration, nor exhaustion. It was something worse, something you already feared.

“You don’t understand, do you?” he finally said, his voice low but clear. “I can’t stop now. This is bigger than us. I can’t lose what I’ve been building. The machine… the transformation… It’s the only way to save myself, to save us.”

A cold shiver ran down your spine. It couldn’t be. You were sure you must have misheard, but the words kept echoing in your head like a drumbeat. It wasn’t just about science. It wasn’t just his obsession. Viktor was pushing you away. And the pain, the pain was unbearable.

You stepped forward, your heart pounding in your throat. How could he do this to you?

“Is that all I am to you?” Your voice was a whisper, but the venom of desperation was there, cutting through your words. “An obstacle? Something you have to leave behind? All this time, everything I’ve done for you… And this is what I get?”

Finally, Viktor looked at you. But it wasn’t the look you expected. His eyes, so cold, so distant, weren’t the eyes of the person you had known. It wasn’t the Viktor you had protected, the one you had loved. It was someone else, someone who no longer saw in you what they once did.

“I do love you, you know?” he said, his voice broken, as if the words were becoming harder and harder to say. “I love you more than you can imagine, but this… this is bigger than us. This is the future, and I can’t risk losing it because… because of something as small as my own feelings.”

The words came out of his mouth as though they were the only thing left inside him. And you, standing there in front of him, felt the ground crumbling beneath your feet. The pain, the betrayal, cut through you like blades.

“And what about us, Viktor?” you said, unable to stop the mix of anger and sadness in your voice. “What about everything we’ve shared? Everything we’ve been through together? Doesn’t that mean anything? Nothing to you?”

He took a step back, each word he spoke a wall being built between you two. With each word, you felt smaller, more invisible. As if he had already made his choice.

“I can’t go on. I can’t be the person you need. If I stay… if I stay with you, all of this… everything I’ve built, everything I am, will crumble. I can’t be that person anymore.”

The pain overwhelmed you in an instant. A silent sob began to rise, but you didn’t let it escape. The knot in your throat tightened, but the words couldn’t come out anymore. You felt empty, as if the air you were breathing was the same air that had killed everything that once meant something to you.

“Then, goodbye, Viktor.” Your words were a broken whisper. “I can’t wait for you to choose between me and your obsessions. I won’t stay here, watching you lose yourself in something you don’t even know what it is.”

Viktor didn’t say anything more. There was no attempt to stop you, no plea, not even a look of regret. Just the sound of his breathing, shallow, as if something inside him was breaking too, but it was too late.

The door slammed shut behind you, the sound of the wood ringing in your ears. And Viktor, inside, remained alone with his experiments, his machines, and the man who had decided that everything else had to go.

Jinx

You approached her softly, as you always did, trying to calm her, trying to make her focus on you again. But you knew this wasn’t the same Jinx who used to laugh and be unpredictable. Something in her gaze told you she had gotten lost, that her thoughts were no longer hers, that the chaos in her mind had taken control.

Suddenly, Jinx stopped moving. She stood still, staring into the void, and everything around her grew quieter. Then, she began to murmur, as if speaking to herself, but her words weren’t clear. You grew concerned, stepping closer, but that was when her body reacted violently, out of control.

You didn’t understand what was happening until you felt the sting of a blow. You hadn’t seen it coming, but the pain hit you instantly. In that moment, fear took over, and your body trembled as you tried to comprehend the magnitude of what had just happened. Jinx looked at you, but her eyes weren’t focused on you. She was trapped, lost in a hallucination.

The voices started. “Kill her! She’s going to betray you, Jinx! Kill her before she leaves you!” The voice was cruel, disdainful, so cold. And then, another voice, softer but equally terrifying: “She hates you. She doesn’t want you, Jinx. Let her go before you do it again!”

You froze, watching the confusion in her eyes, the terror on her face. This wasn’t her. This wasn’t the Jinx you knew. She was caught in an internal struggle, a battle that you couldn’t fight for her.

You stepped closer to her, despite the blood dripping from your nose and your trembling hands. Jinx was crouched down, her eyes lost in an empty space, her hands covering her face as if she could hide the pain and chaos she had just caused. But you knew you couldn’t run from this. You couldn’t leave her now. Not after everything you’d been through together. And not after the promise you made to her.

“Sweets,” you whispered, so softly that you weren’t even sure she could hear you. “Please, look at me.”

Tears kept falling from her eyes, but she didn’t see you. Jinx didn’t see you. And the blow she had struck you moments ago seemed like a distant memory compared to what was happening now: the emptiness she was feeling. The war in her head.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” she whispered, her voice broken, shattered. “I didn’t want… I didn’t want to hurt you. I can’t… I can’t do it again. I… I hurt you.”

You knelt in front of her, searching for her eyes, feeling the knot in your throat. But she wouldn’t look at you. She was trapped. And you knew what that meant.

“Wake up, babe,” you said firmly, taking her hands. “I promised you. I won’t leave you. Not now, not ever.”

The voices in her mind began to rumble, like an overwhelming wave, growing louder, rougher. “She’s going to kill you! Kill her before it’s too late! It’s best for her! Do it now!”

“No… no,” Jinx said, covering her ears as if she could silence them. “No… I’ll hurt you… I don’t want to lose you! I swear I don’t want to hurt you, but I’m a monster!”

You stood up, forcing Jinx to look at you, taking her by the shoulders. “You’re not a monster. You’re not, Jinx. I promised you I wouldn’t leave you. I promised!”

But Jinx started sobbing, with a desperation so deep it hurt to see her like this. “You… you don’t understand. I’m the cause of all this. I’m the worst for you… It’s going to hurt so much if I stay close. You’re going to die! I’m the reason why you…”

“No!” you interrupted, gripping her hands tightly. “Don’t say that. I’m not leaving. I need you. You’re the only one who… who has understood me. Don’t leave me. I promised I’d be by your side.”

Jinx pulled away from you with a sigh, her face filled with guilt and desperation. “You deserve something better, something… more. You don’t have to stay. You don’t have to put up with my madness, you don’t have to stay for me.”

“I don’t want to be with anyone else!” you shouted, desperate. “You’re what I want. You’re what I’ve always wanted. Don’t leave me!”

But Jinx walked away, her steps wavering but firm. “I can’t… I don’t want to be the cause of your death, the cause of… the worst. You’ve given me everything, you’ve given me more than I deserve, but… you could be happy without me. I’m a burden, a curse. And… and I don’t want to lose you more. I don’t want to kill you.”

The voices in her mind grew more intense, more cruel: “Do it! Let her go, Jinx! She’s better off without you.”

“Wait!” you screamed, your eyes filled with tears. “You’re not a burden! I love you, Jinx, I love you! I promised I wouldn’t leave you alone, and I won’t leave you now!”

But Jinx’s words were clear, heartbreaking. “You… you’d be happy without me. I’m the reason for all the pain, for everything that’s made you suffer. And if I stay… I’ll hurt you, I’ll always do it.”

Jinx took a step back, her heart breaking inside, while you kept holding on to her. “I’m leaving. Because… because if I stay close, I’ll do the same thing as always. And you… don’t deserve that.”

“No,” you whispered, your voice broken but determined. “I need you. I need you, Jinx.”

But she was already so lost in her own mind that she couldn’t hear you.

She looked at you for a long moment, her eyes filled with guilt and sadness, and with a painful sigh, she turned away. “I’m sorry… I swear. I’m so sorry.” And in that instant, she left you behind.

When you enter the house, the sound of Vi limping towards you makes you take a step forward. You stay still, observing her wounds: a black eye, swollen lips, blood still dripping from a cut on her arm.

"Vi," you begin, anger taking over you, "You can't keep doing this! I can't see you like this! For a few damn coins? I can pay for everything you need, whatever you want, you don't have to do this!"

Vi shoots you a glaring look, her breath heavy from the effort, but her pride intact. "What do you know, huh? What the hell do you know about sacrifice? About fighting to survive, about having no other option but to fuck yourself over to get more than scraps?"

"You don't have to fight, Vi. You don't have to risk your life like this, for a few damn coins. I can give you whatever you want!" you shout, tears threatening to spill, the helplessness making your voice tremble. "I don't want you to hurt yourself for pride! I want you, and you're killing me seeing you like this!"

Vi takes a step back, her look as hard as stone. "I don't need anything from you! No money, no help! I can take care of myself, do you hear me? I'm not your damn fragile doll, I'm not your entertainment! I'm not your fucking fun."

"It's not that! It's not fun, I care about you, Vi! I can't stand seeing you destroy yourself over something so stupid!" Your breathing grows more ragged, your heart pounding hard in your chest. "I don't want you to keep destroying yourself for pride!"

Vi laughs bitterly, her tone cruel. "You think you're the only one who knows what it is to suffer? You think just because you're some princess from Piltover you can judge me for what I do, for what I am? You've never had to fight for anything in your life! You were born in a fucking silk bed, surrounded by luxuries, and you don't know what it's like to live in the shit, in the mud of Zaun."

The poison in her words hits you like a slap. "Why do you judge me like that when you know it's not true? I've told you, I want to help you, get you out of this shitty life that's consuming you."

Vi takes another step back, her eyes full of disdain. "And what, now you want to make me your project? Your experiment? A poor girl from Zaun who can throw her whole world away just so you can feel better about yourself? Is that what you want? To have a 'girl from the slums' story? I bet you'd get bored of me! Of me and what I am!"

Your words choke in your throat, the truth of her accusations ripping through the air between you. Vi keeps staring harshly, stepping back again. "I'm not what you need, and that's it. I don't want you to be my savior, I don't want to be your fucking project. I'm not going to stay here, waiting for you to cure me, to turn me into something I'm not."

"Vi..." you whisper, tears now falling uncontrollably from your face. "Why... why are you doing this to me?"

"Because we don't have to be together. If I stay with you, I'll just kill you too." Vi takes one last step back, and her voice softens, but not enough to stop the damage. "I don't want to be your fun anymore, I don't want to be your damn experiment. I want you to be happy, to live your life. Far from me."

The silence says it all. Vi turns around, and before you can say anything else, she leaves, leaving you alone in the cold space, with only your tears and her broken words remaining.

Caitlyn

The light in the cell is dim, the coldness of the place surrounds you as you stand there, completely in shock. The shackles on your wrists are a brutal reminder of what just happened. You can't believe it. Caitlyn, the woman who showed you love, the one you thought would never hurt you, has left you here, between these cold and dark walls.

The door creaks open, and there she is, Caitlyn. Her face, usually full of compassion and determination, is now empty, almost indifferent. You watch her approach, and for a moment, you hope she'll come to free you, that she'll tell you it was all a misunderstanding. But no.

"Why?" you manage to say, your voice broken with pain. "Cait... do you really think I could betray you?"

She doesn't answer immediately. She just looks at you with eyes full of conflict, her face serious, even cold. The tension in the air is palpable, and you can see the internal struggle in her. Finally, she sighs, and her words come out of her mouth like a sentence.

"I don't know," she replies coldly. "You're under suspicion now. I can't let you escape."

The weight of her words falls on you like a stone. Your heart stops for a moment, and a lump in your throat prevents you from speaking. You can't believe what you've just heard. The woman who swore to protect you, the one who shared your bed and your laughter, now accuses you of being a traitor.

"But... I just wanted to bring peace, Caitlyn," you whisper, feeling how despair is consuming you. "How can you think I would do something like that? I didn't want to hurt anyone. I just wanted..." The words break in your throat, and the anguish in your chest is unbearable. "Do you really think I'll be capable of lying to you and cause a revolution?"

Caitlyn closes her eyes for a moment, as if she’s searching for answers she can’t find. "I can't risk it, I can't let what you did go unanswered," she says, her voice harder now. "My duty is to Piltover, to justice. I can't be weak."

You step closer to her, hands outstretched, tears overflowing from your eyes. "Caitlyn, please, don't do this to me... I'm not the traitor you think I am. I love you. We promised we'll always have each other's back. Don't you remember that?"

She takes a step back, and her expression hardens even more. "I'm sorry," she says with a broken voice, but her eyes show no regret. "I'm sorry, but I have to do this. I can't let you remain free, not after everything you've put into doubt."

And before you can say anything else, Caitlyn turns her back to you, her footsteps moving away. "I'll keep you in the cell until everything is resolved," she says without turning. "But I can't trust you now."

The door slams shut with a metallic noise, and the sound of the locks clicking into place is all you hear. You fall to your knees, the anguish overtaking you. All you wanted was to be with her, to do the right thing, but now you're here, a prisoner of a justice you don't understand. The betrayal hurts, not because it was done to you, but because the person you love most has now turned their back on you.

Jayce

The conversation had started calmly, like all the others. But something had changed. The tension in the air grew as the words left your lips, and you could see the discomfort on Jayce's face.

"Jayce, enough," you say, your words full of frustration. "I know you want to do great things, but not at the cost of everything else. You can't keep sacrificing everything for your ambition."

He looks at you, surprise and annoyance mixing in his eyes. "I don't understand what you mean," he replies, his tone tense. "Do you think I'm doing this just for myself? I'm fighting for a better future for everyone."

"You don't see it, Jayce!" you shout, unable to contain the emotion choking you. "You've forgotten about the people who really matter to you. Everything you do is for power, for control, for your image. There's no place for me in your life, no space for what we are."

Jayce crosses his arms, his gaze harder than ever. "Is that what you think? That everything I do makes no sense? I'm trying to save Piltover, build something bigger than us. And what do you want? For me to give you more time to be by your side? For everything to revolve around you?"

The pain pierces your chest like a dagger. "It was never about that, Jayce," you say with a broken voice. "I always wanted to be by your side, support you in what you do. But I feel like a shadow. Like you can never see me, like my life, my dreams, everything I am, isn't enough."

He takes a step back, and the distance between the two of you seems to grow with every word that leaves his mouth. "You don't understand," he says coldly, his eyes now so distant. "What I do is bigger than anything I could offer you. If you can't understand that, if you can't meet me at my level, then maybe we're not what we thought we were."

"What are you saying?" you ask, feeling your heart flip. "Are you telling me that everything we've been doesn't matter? That I'm not enough for you?"

Jayce takes a deep breath, as if trying to calm his own thoughts before speaking. "It's not that. But I'm tired of you asking me to put you above everything I'm trying to build. If that means losing you, then..." his voice cracks for a second, but he recovers quickly. "Then it's what I have to do."

An emptiness opens in your stomach, and the world seems to crumble around you. "So you're leaving me. Just like that, as if I never meant anything to you." You look at him with disappointment.

Jayce lowers his gaze, avoiding your eyes, and his words hit like a blow. "I don't want you dragging me backward. You have to understand, I can't do this anymore."

Tears well up in your eyes, but you don't let them fall. "If that's what you want, Jayce, if that's what you really think is best for you, then goodbye. I hope you don't lose yourself on your way to perfection."

And in that moment, the words between you become empty. Jayce turns around, without even looking at you one more time, and walks away without saying another word. You stand there, in the middle of the place you once considered your refuge, while the echo of his indifference lingers in your ears.

Ekko

The house is silent, but the air is thick with tension. Ekko's gaze, which usually radiated passion and energy, now seems empty, lost in thoughts that don't include you. You watch him from the door, the knot in your throat preventing you from speaking.

"Ekko," you manage to say, your voice almost breaking, "I can't take it anymore."

He looks at you, seeming surprised, but he doesn't approach. The silence stretches between you two, as if you both know what's coming but neither of you wants to say it.

"What can't you take anymore?" his voice is low, as if he's too exhausted to argue. "What do you want me to do, huh? I'm doing what I have to do for Zaun, for everyone here. I can't just stop. I can't anymore."

"Can't stop? Are you really saying that?" Anger begins to take control, and helplessness mixes with pain. "Ekko, I've been watching you disappear more and more into your missions, your plans, everything that keeps you busy in Zaun. And I... what am I to you? A nuisance? A distraction?"

Ekko takes a step back, the exhaustion on his face becoming more evident. "It's not that, but..." He falls silent for a moment, as if words aren't enough to explain how he feels. "I can't keep living in two worlds, in two realities, and you know it. Zaun needs all of me, and you... you don't understand what that means. I can't be the Zaun guy and be your boyfriend at the same time."

"So, all of this was a mistake?" you ask, desperation about to drown you. "Everything we shared? Everything we built? Doesn't that matter? Does Zaun matter more?"

"Yes, sometimes it matters more," Ekko replies, his voice cold, but his gaze betrays him. "You... you're part of my life, I know. But I have to be objective and realistic, and no matter how much I love you, right now, you can't be a priority in my life. I can't be who you want me to be anymore. I can't be the guy who fights for you and for Zaun at the same time. I need to be one or the other, and Zaun needs me now."

"And I need you too," you say, the pain in your words, "but you don't see it anymore, do you? I'm not enough, I'm not what you need. I feel used and stupid," you said angrily, kicking a chair.

Ekko looks at you, his gaze wavering, as if there's an internal struggle he can't win. "Believe me, no one wants this to work more than I do, baby, but I... I'm not capable of giving you what you want, and neither are you to me."

The silence stretches into what feels like an eternity. You approach him, desperation overtaking you. "Ekko, please. Think about it one more time, we can't leave things like this. You've taught me to fight. Isn't it worth fighting for this?"

"Sometimes there are battles that aren't worth fighting because you know you'll never win them," he said, his words burning like acid in his throat. He kissed your forehead and stepped away from your personal space. "I'm sorry..." he murmured, and for a moment, he seemed tempted to hug you, but he didn't. "I'm sorry. But this is what's best for both of us."

The words destroy both of you.

Reality hits you like a bucket of cold water in the middle of winter. Everything you'd feared, everything you'd known deep in your heart, is happening. Ekko is pulling away, and even though you understand, you can't accept that the love you shared is no longer enough to keep him.

"Is this for real?" you ask, tears falling uncontrollably. "Is this what you're giving me? A cold goodbye because Zaun is more important than me?"

"Zaun needs a leader," Ekko replies, his voice broken but resolute. "And I need to be that leader. I can't be what you need, not now."

You stand there, feeling how the void between you grows larger, as Ekko turns and walks away, taking with him the last hope of what once was.

Silco

The rain hit the windows of Silco's office with force, the sound almost deafening as you leaned against the wall, breathing irregularly. You had been rescued again, once more on the brink of death, another attempt on your life, and once again, Silco was there to save you. But something in his gaze, cold, distant, made you fear the worst. You didn’t understand what was happening, but something had changed. Something in him.

“This is over,” he said after a long pause.

“What do you mean by that?” Your voice trembled.

Silco looked at you, his eyes filled with something you couldn’t read, something darker than the usual shadow he carried. He took a step toward you, but his presence was no longer comforting. His gaze remained fixed, as if he was deliberately pushing you away from him.

“It’s for the best,” his tone was low, almost hesitant, but the coldness in his words made you freeze. “I can't keep exposing you to this. You don't belong in this world. I can’t risk you anymore.”

“What are you saying?” Your words barely came out, drowned by the pain of his cold resolve. “Silco… you don’t have the right to decide for me. I choose to stay, I choose to remain here by your side.”

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he took another step back. “You don’t understand,” he said, his voice deeper than ever. “I don’t want to protect you anymore. You’re a burden, a burden I can’t carry any longer. I’m tired of you.”

The blow was like a stab to the chest. You couldn’t believe what you had just heard. “What? You’re tired of me?” Your words came out choked, unable to grasp the cruelty he had just expressed.

“The rumors are true,” he said with a harshness that froze the air between you both. “I’ve only seen you as a little distraction. A good pet. A weakness. Nothing more. I had fun, yes, but that’s over. I’ve found something better.”

“No… that can’t be…” you said, but when you saw the coldness in his eyes, something inside you shattered.

Silco didn’t respond immediately. His gaze remained fixed on you, and for a moment, everything felt like a lie. Then, with a cruel indifference, he said, “You were never my equal. You were just a pastime, something I could have for myself. Something no one else could have. But you're replaceable. We all are.”

“That’s not true,” you whispered, struggling against the knot in your throat. “How can you say that?”

“I’m getting tired of repeating myself. I don’t want you in my life anymore. You’re no longer useful to me, you only bring me problems,” his voice was now firm, unyielding. “So go. I don’t need any more weaknesses in my life.”

The words were like a sentence. Everything you had ever felt for him, everything you had believed you shared, crumbled in that moment. There was nothing left. With your heart shattered, you took a deep breath and, without another word, turned away.

As you walked toward the door, the echo of your footsteps filled the empty office. Silco watched you, but did nothing to stop you. There was nothing left to say.

When the door closed behind you, silence filled the room. Silco stood there, in the darkness, his fists clenched, the pain in his chest stronger than any wound he had ever suffered before. For the first time in years, a single tear ran down his face. But no one saw it. He was alone, and that was all he deserved.

Mel

Mel's bedroom was silent, illuminated only by the faint light of the early morning hours. The bed, still messy, bore witness to a night of passion, but also to something much deeper that had been growing between the two of you. The sheets, tangled together, seemed to reflect the tension that now filled the space. The room, which had once been a warm refuge, was now soaked in a thick, suffocating atmosphere.

You sat on the edge of the bed, watching how Mel lay with her back to you, her face hidden in the pillow, breathing irregularly, as if she were still searching for something she couldn’t find. It wasn’t physical exhaustion that was affecting her, but something much deeper.

"Mel..." you said, your voice low but filled with an anguish you couldn’t control. “What’s happening between us?”

She didn’t move at first, as if she hadn’t heard you, but the weight of your words finally reached her. She turned over, and when her eyes met yours, something in her gaze made you fear the worst. It wasn’t the look of the woman you loved. It was something much more distant, something you couldn’t understand.

"I'm sorry... I can't keep doing this," she said, her voice, though soft, tinged with a hardness you couldn’t ignore. "I can't keep dragging you into this."

"What do you mean?" you asked, unable to comprehend what she had just said. "I won’t let you push me away. I won’t allow it."

Mel sighed and sat up, her eyes reflecting an exhaustion that seemed to surpass the physical. "It’s not about that... I don’t want to keep exposing you to all of this," she said, pressing her lips together with a determination that hurt. "I’m putting you in danger. It’s not fair to you."

"I don’t care," you replied, moving closer to her, your words heavy with desperation. "I don’t care what happens. All I want is to be with you."

But Mel didn’t give in, and instead of softening, her expression hardened even more. "You don’t understand, do you? I... I’m not enough for you. I can’t be what you need. I can’t keep being this, being... who I am."

"And what are you, Mel?" you asked, pain clear in your voice. "Ambessa’s daughter? The woman who lives under her shadow, trying to be someone she’ll never be? You’re not just that. You’re not. You’re... you’re the woman I want, the woman I love. But you keep running from it."

Mel, hearing your words, took a step back, as if an invisible force had pushed her away. The look in her eyes was painful, as if your words had struck her to the core. "You don’t get it. You don’t know what it’s like to be Ambessa’s daughter," she said, her voice cracked with frustration. "You don’t know what it’s like to do everything for her, for her approval."

"No I don't," you replied, unable to hold back the heat of your own truth. "But what I know is what it’s like to try to be what others want. To try to please someone who’ll never see you for what you truly are. And still, you stay there, looking for something you can’t even define."

Mel fell silent, her face paling with each of your words, but you wouldn’t stop. Not after everything you’d tried. "I’m telling you, I don’t care what you do. I don’t care if you have to live under her shadow forever. I just want to be with you. But you... you can’t see that you’re losing what matters most. What you have left. What we could be."

"It’s just that I can’t... I can’t give it all up for you," she whispered, her gaze lost, almost disoriented. "I’m not enough for you. I can’t be."

"Why do you keep saying that?" you said, your voice breaking. "Why do you keep seeking her approval? You don’t have to be her perfect daughter, Mel. You have to be you. But you keep seeking her love, and you’ll never find it. It will never be enough for her. And as long as you stay there, you keep losing yourself."

She closed her eyes, as if your words pierced her, but she didn’t say anything more. The silence between you two became unbearable, and finally, Mel looked down, tears welling up in her eyes. "I’m telling you, I can’t keep going with you," she murmured, and this time it wasn’t a doubt, it was a statement.

You stayed there, frozen, unable to move a muscle. "What?" you whispered, unable to believe what she had just said.

"What I’m saying is that... I can’t keep being what you need. I can’t be happy like this. I can’t keep fighting for something I don’t have."

You couldn’t believe it, the words slipped from your mouth, but they didn’t find the right form to come out. "But, Mel, you don’t have to be what they want. You don’t have to live under her shadow. Why don’t you see it? I don’t want you for what you are to others, I want you for what you are to me."

Mel looked at you then, and for a moment, you thought everything could be resolved. But the look in her eyes wasn’t the same anymore. It was empty, sad, as if she had given up everything she once was. "I can’t stay here, I can’t keep doing this," she murmured, and with those words, she turned away, walking away from you.

Your heart shattered, but it wasn’t the pain that stopped you. It was the anguish of knowing that, despite everything you shared, she would never be able to leave that shadow, that need to please her mother.

And as she walked away, the words echoed in your mind over and over again: "I’ll never be enough. I’m not enough for her. I’m not enough for you."

Sevika

You find yourself with Sevika in her usual spot, where the world seems to stand still, surrounded by ruins and rubble. The atmosphere is thick with silence, but there's something in her eyes you can't ignore. There's tension in the air, as if a conflict is about to erupt.

"Sevika," you call, your heart racing. "We need to talk."

She turns toward you slowly, and her eyes seem colder than you've ever seen them. "I know," she replies, her voice deep and cutting. "I've been waiting for you."

You approach, but Sevika's gaze feels so distant, so detached from you. Something is wrong, and you know it. You can't stop the doubts from forming in your mind.

"Why have you been pulling away from me?" you ask, the knot in your throat growing tighter. "What's happening between us?"

Sevika crosses her arms, her posture more defiant than ever. "Don't you know? I told you, remember? I'm no good for you. I'm not what you need."

You furrow your brow, confused. "What are you talking about? I've never asked you to be anything else. I accept you as you are. I love you, Sevika."

She takes a step back, distancing herself from you, as if your closeness burns her. "That's what you don't understand. You think this is love, but what you're seeing isn't it. What you see in me is just an illusion. I'm just using you to get what I need: a little comfort, a distraction from the damn chaos of this city. But I don't want you to keep deceiving yourself. I'm not someone you can save, and I don't want you wasting your time with me."

Your words catch in your throat. "No... don't say that. I'm not deceiving myself, Sevika. I want to be by your side, through thick and thin. Why are you saying all of this?"

Sevika laughs, but it's not a laugh that gives you peace. It's cold, bitter, as if she's laughing at a cruel joke. "Because you're weak. And I don't want to drag you into this shitty world anymore. I don't want you to be another victim of what I am. And the worst part is, you don't even get it. You're a dreamer, an idealist, but there's no room for that here. There's no room for love in Zaun, there's only pain. And you won't be able to handle it."

"I don't want to leave you. I can't leave you," you respond, moving closer, but Sevika takes another step back, her face hardened by an internal battle. "I can't live with the thought of you pushing me away."

"Well, that's what's going to happen," she says, her voice so cold it echoes through the emptiness of the factory. "I'm leaving you because I can never be what you expect. I'll drag you into the darkness, I'll sink you even deeper than you already are. And that, that would ruin you. I have nothing left to offer you."

You're frozen, the pain piercing through your chest. "No... don't do this, Sevika. Please. Don't leave me alone."

"I left you the moment I accepted this damn world," Sevika says, and you can see a single tear silently roll down her face. "The only thing I offer you is more suffering, and that's the last thing I want for you. Forget me. And go, before I end up destroying you."

"No! I won't leave you!" you shout, but the desperation in your voice is futile. Sevika looks at you, but there's no warmth in her eyes anymore, only emptiness. "You're going to be happy without me. I'm not the person you need."

Before you can say anything else, Sevika turns around, walking toward the exit of the factory, leaving you alone in that dark, cold corner. The last image of her, her figure fading into the darkness, breaks you completely. You know that what she just told you isn't a lie, and that maybe, just maybe, she was right.

But what destroys you more is that you love her so much, and you can't bear the thought of losing her forever.

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joelslastofus · 1 day ago

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[SUMMARY: Joel struggles to fight temptation with Sarah’s bestfriend after he’s forced to share a bed with her.]

Smut dry humping 18+

He knew it was best to sleep in his jeans, at least the heavy material would do better at hiding a boner he knew he would get.

Winter vacation with the Millers was something you had been looking forward to for the past month. Sarah and you were on break from college and had been best friends since high school. The two of you always planned vacations together and this time her dad and uncle were apart of the plans. A road-trip to Colorado to stay at a cabin and go skiing, you were so excited. The ride was about twelve hours long but you loved road-trips so you were perfectly fine with the time it would take to get there.

“Everybody packed?” Joel came out putting the last few bags on the back of his truck as Sarah came out in a panic.

“Shoot! I forgot to leave my work keys at the job”

“Doesn’t someone else have em?” Joel asked confused.

“Sidney is off and I was suppose to leave them for Matt, they’ll kill me. I’m so stupid”

“Alright relax-“ Tommy came in to the recuse as he usually did.

“I gotta drive by your job anyways and pick up a couple things, we’ll stop by your job and then continue heading to Colorado”

Sarah jumped up and down in relief.

“Oh uncle Tommy, you’re a savior”

“So I’ve been told” he shrugged with a chuckle.

“So what are we doin’?” Joel asked as you stood silently waiting for a plan.

“Sarah and I will go do what we gotta do and you and her can get a head start so we don’t miss our check in at the cabin”

“You want me to go with your dad?” You attempted to whisper to Sarah as he looked over at you.

“Yeah cause remember we booked the cabin under our names so me or you need to at least be there for check in” Sarah explained. Joel tried to hide his look of disapproval. Of course it wasn’t that he didn’t want to be around you, it was more so that he knew he shouldn’t be, especially alone.

“Alright well let’s get goin’” Tommy jumped in his truck as Sarah followed while you got in the car with Joel.

The drive was slightly awkward at first, being that Joel wasn’t much of a talker. His body felt tense as he drove, sneaking a glance at you as you looked out the window. You wore a jean skirt with a plain pink top, but all he could focus on was your legs.

“Mind if I put on the radio?”

He quickly looked away the second you spoke.

“Go ahead” he couldn’t help but notice your hand with red nails reach forward. God he hoped Tommy and Sarah wouldn’t take long doing what they had to do because Joel didn’t know long he could handle being alone with you.

“So are you excited?” You asked trying to make conversation.

“Course I am, been a while since I’ve gone skiing but I’m sure I still got it in me”

“Well maybe you can teach me” you spoke innocently, yet your words lingered in the air sending a shock of pleasure down his groin. He shifted in his seat as you sighed and changed the radio station not having any clue just how aroused you were making him simply by being in his presence.

Joel tried anything to get his mind off you, singing a song in his head, thinking about the last movie he saw, hell, anything to distract his mind from wandering off, especially with you right beside him. As the hours went by it helped that you had fallen asleep. Your hands folded on your lap as you leaned toward the door, Joel couldn’t help but take a slow look at you now that he could without being caught. He’d known you for a few years now but he didn’t know what the hell changed on you once you graduated high school. A simple look couldn’t hurt he convinced himself..

Not too long after, you woke up to Joel on the phone, whatever it was, you could tell he wasn’t happy about it.

“You’re kiddin’ me right?” Joel uttered low.

“Why the hell didn’t you say somethin’ earlier?” You crossed your arms sitting up wondering what was going on as he pulled over to the side of the road.

“The hell am I suppose to do now?” He continued, a few more words were said before he slammed his phone shut.

“What happened?” You spoke in a soft voice.

“Tommy’s truck broke down”

“What? We still have hours to go, where are they?”

“They’re three hours away”

“What?” You whispered confused.

It was ten at night and you had no idea where you were or what you were supposed to do.

“So now what?”

“We get a motel for the night, they’ll meet us in the mornin’-“

“A motel?“

Joel cleared his throat looking away, obvious discomfort on his face as he tried to hide how he felt about staying at a motel with you.

“Yeah, Sarah already called the cabin. We’ll make it there tomorrow” he continued to drive as you looked at the road confused.

Luckily Joel had found a motel up the road.

As soon as he entered the lobby he was clear in asking for two separate rooms or at least a room with two beds. Of course with his luck there was only one room available with one bed.

“Jesus christ” he ran his hand through his hair in frustration. With there not being another motel for another ten miles down Joel gave in and took the key.

Unlocking the door you could see how annoyed he felt, you figured it was because of delay in the trip. Pressing his lips together he looked up at you and motioned for you to walk in before him. The first sight of the bed sitting in the middle of the room you sighed as Joel stood behind you and shut the door.

“You can take the bed” he uttered low throwing his bag to the side.

“And where are you going to sleep?”

He pointed at a wooden chair in the corner of the room making you scoff.

“Don’t be ridiculous , Mr.Miller. You need proper rest, you’ve been driving for a few hours and-“

“I’ll do just fine on that chair” he insisted “and how many times do I have to tell you to just call me Joel”.

“Well, Joel, the bed is big enough for both of us, why make things harder for yourself?” you raised a brow as you took your bag and walked to the bathroom. Joel never thought he would ever find himself in a situation like this, his mind racing with things he found harder to ignore.

After changing into your pajamas you walked out of the room yawning making Joel turn to you. Instantly taken back by what you wore, an oversized t shirt that dropped down above your knees.

“The hell are you wearin’?”

“My pajamas?” You looked at him confused, his hands on his hips as he looked flustered.

“Ain’t there somethin’ else you could wear?”

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” You tilted your head as he bit down on his bottom lip. There was no way Joel was going to be locked in a room with you just wearing an oversized shirt. You didn’t see anything wrong with it especially with how long it was.

“I’m gonna go get somethin’ from the truck” he uttered under his breath as he turned towards the door. Yeah, that’s what he figured he would do. Sleep in the car.

“Wait-“ you took a step forward.

“What?”

“Where are you going?”

“To my truck, I’ll sleep in the car and-“

“No!” You took another step forward.

“You can’t leave me alone in this motel…I-“

“Why not?” He furrowed his brows.

“It’s creepy and…I don’t know…I’m kinda scared to stay alone up here”

“You’re scared?” You could hear the irritation in his tone, God you were making it harder for the man to keep himself away from you.

“Yes, can you please stay”

Joel sighed looking away knowing he had no choice. He knew he couldn’t just leave you alone like that.

“Thank you” you whispered and headed to the bed.

“So what side do you prefer to sleep on?”

Joel looked up at you, clearly over the whole ordeal.

“I ain’t sleepin’ on the bed��

“You’re still going on with that? Look how big this bed is!” You took it upon yourself to choose a side and lay back.

“You know something Mr.Miller-Joel” you corrected yourself as you sat up.

“Sometimes I think you just don’t like me and I don’t know what I’ve done but whatever it is, I apologize”

Joel stood still, Jesus Christ, now he had you thinking he didn’t like you, which obviously was so very far from the truth. He cleared his throat, not exactly sure how to defend himself without being obvious how badly he actually wanted you.

“That ain’t it, sweetheart” his words were spoken softly, probably the softest he’s ever spoken to you. There was an awkward silence after that before you sighed and got under the covers.

“Well, if that’s not it, then I insist you lay on a bed to sleep. I won’t bother you I promise” he watched as you turned over and proceeded to close your eyes.

Giving in, he walked towards the bed. Still debating in his mind what he should and shouldn’t do. He knew it was best to sleep in his jeans, at least the heavy material would do better at hiding a boner he knew he would get.

“You didn’t pack pajamas?” You suddenly turned catching him off guard.

“Yeah uh-“

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna sleep with jeans on, that’s so uncomfortable” you turned back the way you were as Joel took a deep breath. Without saying a word he proceeded to change his clothes in the bathroom.

Sweats and a navy blue t shirt Joel awkwardly sat on the bed. It seemed as if you had already fallen asleep, if so, it definitely would be better for him. Laying on his back he looked at the ceiling, his knee up as he carefully tried not to move much with you beside him.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad he thought, just a few hours, make it through the night and everything would be fine, right? He couldn’t help but look over, the blanket covering your legs until you moved shifting its place on you. Now a hint of the back of your bear thighs exposed to him, he didn’t even realize he began to breathe hard. His eyes darting back and forth between the ceiling and your legs until he found it in him to reach over and attempt to cover you. Of course, just as he did you unexpectedly turned over toward him, his hand now trapped beneath the side of your thigh as you faced him.

“Shit” he whispered, his breathing becoming harder to control, a feeling of anticipation he couldn’t hide. His hand feeling your bare skin on him, he could feel the pressure in his chest when you abruptly turned away again.

God you were moving a lot, each movement taking him by surprise but now here you were with your ass poked out just inches away from his crotch area. Looking down, his hand ached to grab your waist and press himself against you. The scent of your vanilla spray filling the air, only weakening his fight. A soft sleepy moan escaping your lips making him look up, the sound you made only making his cock begin to the throb as it hardened in his pants when your phone began to buzz.

Joel quickly turned onto his back lifting the covers over him as you responded in a lazy like voice.

“Mhm. Sure…yeah…I’ll tell him” you sighed before clicking the phone off and turning to Joel.

“Sarah said-“ you stopped in your tracks noticing how fast paced his breathing was.

“Are you ok?” His knee blocking his erection as he refused to look at you.

“Joel?” You whispered.

“I’m fine” he responded in a much more aggressive tone than he meant to.

“Are…are you sure?”

He looked to you with a clenched jaw but he didn’t say a word. His mind going hazy the second he laid eyes on you, he knew he was no longer thinking straight. Joel felt like an animal was taking over him when he abruptly turned towards you and kissed you. You squealed in shock as his hand caressed the crook of your neck, he placed himself over you just before he pulled his lips away. You panted looking up at him in disbelief, how he managed to get himself between your legs so quickly you couldn’t say.

“Joel..” you whispered.

“You scared me” your words instantly setting a realization within him, regret was clear in his eyes.

“I’m sorry-“ but just before he attempted to remove himself, you gently placed your hand on his face. He closed his eyes savoring your touch, your legs adjusting around his waist allowing you to feel his fully erect member against you.

“So this is what it’s all been about…” you whispered somewhat amused as he looked away with shame.

“This ain’t right” you felt him about to move away and tightened your legs around him.

“Wait” you whispered.

“We don’t…we don’t have to do anything but you can just…just stay here” you felt yourself become aroused, the head of his cock against your pussy lips. Through his sweats you could feel the shape of him against you, your black lace underwear soaking up from your excitement. As good as it felt between your legs, Joel took a deep breath.

“I can’t” he whispered, his lips against your forehead.

“Please..” you grabbed onto his shirt wanting to feel him even closer and that’s when he slowly thrusted his hips against you. Your lips parted against his and he thrusted again and again. Your moan made him freeze in place, he wanted more. Joel lifted his body up and looked down noticing the wet stop you left him on his grey sweats, only tempting him to continue.

“I’m sorry” you whispered slightly embarrassed.

He didn’t say a word, you could see him losing the fight and angled his face back to you.

“It’s not like we’re having sex..” you whispered.

“We’re not doing anything wrong” you continued, your thumb brushing over his lips.

He needed to feel more.

With one hand leaning beside your head, he pushed himself up and pushed down his sweats along with his underwear, revealing his aching member.

“What are you doing?”

“I won’t put it in, I just-“ he proceeded to take his cock and brush it up and down between your lips, you lay silently feeling aroused like you had never felt before. Your silk underwear slowly moving aside the more he teased you, his eyes on yours as he focused on the hold he had on you.

“Just don’t-“

“I won’t” he whispered hoarsely. The feel of his cock coming into contact with your pussy, you slowly reached between you both and pulled your underwear aside giving him complete access to feel you.

“Oh, baby…I don’t know if I can stop” he panted as your body squirmed beneath him. You both wanted more, the sound of how wet your pussy was only continued to awaken the animal inside him. His eyes focused on yours when he suddenly slipped himself inside you making you gasp. He held himself feeling you throb around him, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Joel..” you whispered, his eyes dazed.

“I’m sorry..” he whispered.

“Don’t be…. Again…please” Joel did just as you asked, sliding himself nearly all the way out before ramming himself in you once more.

“Is that what you want? Tell me” he demanded, both of his hands grabbing your face. You nodded desperately before he began moving his hips in a rhythm against you, again and again and again. The bed squeaking loudly the faster he moved.

“Fuck” you moaned as he aggressively pulled his shirt over his head with one hand before sliding his other hand under your ass and lifting you up closer against him. Joel didn’t give a shit if what he was doing in that moment wasn’t wrong and neither did you. You felt better than he could imagine, your tight wet cunt wrapped around him, he moaned deeply. You didn’t want him to stop, you didn’t want it to end when someone suddenly knocked on the door. You and Joel froze out of breath as someone knocked again.

“Housekeeping!”

“No!” Joel blurt out roughly.

“No thank you” he breathed in relief that it was no one else before continuing what he was doing. Next thing you knew, Joel flipped you on top of him, his hands pushing up beneath your shirt grabbing your breasts as you bounced him. Joel could feel your cum dripping down his ballsack.

“Just like that, baby” he panted looking down at his cock.

“Fuck, Joel I’m gonna-“

“You’re gonna cum? Look at me, fucking look at me when you cum” he grabbed a handful of your hair and bought your face down close to his as he pushed his pelvis upwards as fast as he could. You couldn’t take the pleasure he was making you feel, your screams echoing around the room as you came repeatedly.

“Atta girl” he slowed down and flipped you back on your back, your body limp from your orgasm he got on his knees and quickly pulled out. Jerking himself off, his cum shot out of him onto your stomach as he leaned over you.

“Oh shit” he spoke breathlessly looking down at when slowly the intense high came crashing down. He had just fucked his daughter’s Bestfriend.

Joel pushed himself off the bed, slowly stumbling towards the bathroom as your body still tried to recover. He didn’t say a word slamming the bathroom door shut as you slowly pushed yourself up.

“Are you okay?” You called out to him cleaning yourself up, your legs slightly trembling. He didn’t respond.

A few minutes later Joel came rushing out fully dressed and began packing his bag.

“What are you doing?” You asked confused.

“Get dressed, we ain’t stayin’ here”

“Joel, where the hell are we gonna go?”

“Get dressed” he narrowed his eyes on you with a tone you didn’t like.

“Where are we going? Sarah is three hours away and the cabin is still hours away-“

“I ain’t stayin’ here” he walked past you picking up his sweats and throwing it in the bag.

“I don’t understand-“ he abruptly stopped before you and grabbed your face making you gasp.

“I just fucked you in a damn motel. If I don’t leave from here, I will fuck you again and again” his eyes drifted to your lips as you looked at him speechless.

“You’re my daughter’s best friend, I can’t do this” he whispered as he got lost in his temptation and kissed you passionately. He carried you up against the wall brushing his hand up your thigh pushing your shirt above your hips before he moved his lips away. Leaning his forehead on yours he slowly put you back on your feet.

“Get dressed” his tone was cold as he turned away from you.

“You know what-“ you walked towards your bag and pulled out your pants.

“As soon as Sarah and Tommy meet us we can switch, I’ll ride the rest of the way with Tommy” Joel instantly looked up from his bag. Clearly what you said didn’t exactly sit right with him. The thought of you traveling alone with Tommy knowing how his brother was something he was not going to allow. Especially after what had just happened with you.

“So you wanna ride with Tommy now?” He made his way around the bed walking towards you as you pulled up your pants without looking at him.

“Mhm” you responded with clear annoyance.

“You gonna wear your little panties for Tommy too?” Your eyes widened.

“Oh screw you, I didn’t make a move on you”

Joel stood silent, he knew you were right yet his jealousy somehow overpowering his emotions. He felt defeated.

“You’re not ridin’ with Tommy and that’s final” he turned away.

“And what makes you think I have to listen to you?” You quickly followed him until he suddenly turned back to you catching you off guard. He was silent, his jaw tense as you looked up at him slightly intimidated. You could’ve sworn he was going to say something….anything until your phone rang.

Sarah and Tommy got a ride and were now much much closer than you both originally expected them to be and that’s when it hit you, that you were now stuck on a four day trip with your Bestfriend and her dad that you had just slept with..

@moonpascal @katmoonz @picketniffler @stcrrjoon @itsamandi @starry-eyes-love @theoraekenslover @psychoenergy @joeldjarin @bambisweethearts @baronessvonglitter @guelyury @mynameistokyo @harriedandharassed @locaparapedrito @untamedheart81 @rosaliedepp @illyanam1011 @hopefulatrocity @tikikiki @thewritermj @l0veang3l @manuymesut @katiemarieeee @unknownomgg @secretcheesecakenacho @missladym1981 @xmaykeca @dendulinka6 @wintersquirrel @malfoycassimalfoy @scorpio-echo @orcasoul @mysteryhexgirl @locaparapedrito @alloftheimagines @mystickittytaco @justajoelsreader @ashleyfilm

#pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x female reader #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #joel miller fan fic #joel miller x f!reader #the last of us

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sierrale8ne · 1 day ago

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40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER SIXTEEN

thought i’d be lying if i said ‘i didn’t want you to myself.’ when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that it’s mine, i…

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @wbbgetsmewetter @rosemariiaa @tndaqlifwy @pboogerswbb @xxloveralways14 @makethemhoesmad @slvt4her @luvapaigeeyy @hedidnotpleaseme @paigesbabygirl @mopopshop @omg-imtumbling @numberonepartyanth3m @wbb4l @authentic-girl03 @slut4uconnwbb @unadulteratedcyclepaper @kplum10 @fuddfanatic35 @avvwritesstufff @paigesluver @bueckersbitch @ryywyd @lupinqs

warnings long chapter (9.3k words), sexual content (fucking filth, you’re welcome!)

kalena speakss 🪽! i’m so so sorry for the wait, i’ve been lazy and also interrupted multiple times while writing. anyways, there’s nothing i’ve enjoyed writing, more than paige and maraye’s story. so, i thank you guys for all the support since it’s dropped and all the interactions and comments and anons, y’all truly make me laugh. i have an epilogue and around two bonus chapters planned so be on the look out for those. i’d love some live reactions to this one if you guys are up for it! anyway enjoy the finale with my babies, i put pen to paper for this one!

July 2025 — Indianapolis, Indiana

“You can’t answer your phone now?”

“Pa—”

“My girl just treatin’ me like I’m chopped damn liver.”

“Pai—”

“Who you with?”

“Paige!” I finally cut in, shaking my head and tapping the FaceTime button on the screen. “Shut up for a second, and pick up.” I groan.

The sound of the call connecting, finally comes through, and I can’t help but press the photo button when I see her, all laid out on her hotel bed with an arm behind her head. Her face is flushed, hair slightly sweating from her first All-Star practice. A pout graces her lips and her eyes squint as she scowls.

“Hi.” I grin.

“What’s so important that you can’t answer my calls?” She asks again, staring at me intensely through the screen.

I roll my eyes at her eagerness. Our plane landed early that morning, and after getting checked in at our respective hotels, Paige had practice and I went out to do some shopping. “I’m tryna find an outfit for our date.” I explain, looking over at the girls next to me who attempt to help me out.

“You by yourself?” She asks. Her eyebrows furrow, and knowing Paige, I know she’s pissed that I didn’t ask her to come with me.

I shake my head, panning the camera to reveal both Nika and Azzi next to me. I’m not sure how this came about, but a few texts and an invitation later the two were joining me at the mall.

“You didn’t tell us that Raye looked this good in person!” Nika speaks into the phone. I cover the lower half of my face with my hand, an attempt to hide my growing blush.

“And for good reason.” The blonde replies before turning her attention towards me. “Baby, you ignorin’ me to hang out with them? That’s how you feelin’?”

I’ve spent the last hour and a half understanding why Nika and Azzi were Paige’s best friends. They were involved, and not in that nagging annoying way, they cared. They cared about Paige and wanted to keep her happy. Which in turn, meant they cared about my business with the woman.

I laugh at Paige, my attention still not fully on her as I assume she’d want. “I’m not ignoring you. I need to find an outfit, blondie.”

“Y’know you could wear a trash bag and I’d still wanna take you out, right?”

“That’s what I said!” Azzi sings into my ear. “But I will say, this one is perfect.” The girl says. Azzi holds up one of the two-piece sets I was yet to try.

“Girl you gotta try it on. I like it too.” Nika affirms.

Suddenly my phone is an afterthought. “Really? It’s not too casual?”

“Lemme see.”

“It’s Indiana. I promise this isn’t casual.” Azzi explains.

“Hellooo?”

“Your ass would look perfect in this skirt tho’. Wear this one!” Nika shakes the outfit on the hanger a little more harshly.

“Ight now I really need to see it.”

I look back and forth between the two women, both outfits fitting completely different vibes. The denim co-ord in Azzi’s hands would accentuate my hips and my tits, which Paige simply would fall out over. The black set in Nika’s hands might stop us from going out to dinner all together.

“P, what’s the dress code?” I turn back, looking down at her astonished face on my screen. Her lips slightly parted eyes blown wide.

“So know you remember I exist?” She teases.

I give her a tilt of my head, enough to let her know I want her to shut up. “Dress code, please?”

“Uh-I-I dunno. Nothin’ too fancy, nothin’ too casual.” Paige shrugs.

“Well whatchu wearin’?” I ask.

I know my choice of words should’ve been picked a bit better because Nika snickers beside me and Paige lets out a laugh, sending me that smirk of hers that makes my knees go a little bit weak in the store.

“Ayo?” Paige jokes, covering her mouth with her palm.

“Paige Madison.”

“I’m wearin’ jeans!” She finally answers when her laughter dies down. “Jeans and a black tee, maybe a jacket. I dunno yet.”

I huff, looking back at the options the three of us have picked out. Paige was right, what I put on didn’t really matter. At least not as much as I thought it did. But this is our first date, my first date with a girl, with Paige— who isn’t just any girl.

So I pick up the set in Nika’s hands, the black fabric running through my fingers. It is perfect. “I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

Paige nods, her lips folding into a small grin. “Tonight.”

—

I run my hand anxiously down the side of my jeans, catching a glimpse of the white patchwork on the knees and taking a deep breath outside the door. I’m nervous. Which is a feeling I’m not very used to yet.

In my entire 23 years of living, I think I’ve only ever been on three first dates. Two in high school and one in college with Nyla. Though, I don’t really think I could ever consider that a date.

Either way, the number was slim to none which left me with zero clue of what to expect tonight. Especially from Maraye.

She was unpredictable. Nothing about her ever completely the same. She kept me on my damn toes, which was great but also so confusing at the same time.

I knocked on the hotel door softly before digging my hands into the pockets of my Kith jacket. Along with my black baggy jeans, I threw on a simple black shirt and a jacket. She might’ve never said it out loud, but with the way she always looks at me when I wear it, I know that black is Raye’s favorite color on me. As is mine on her.

My fingers are decorated with silver rings. I have on two different chains, the first is a simple one with a cross and the second is my diamond 5 chain. I figured that a first date calls for pulling out all the stops.

My stomach suddenly bubbles with anxiousness and my pulse is heard in my ears as I wait for her. This is it. Our first date, and the more I repeat it in my head, the more surreal it sounds.

I was right about not knowing what to expect with Raye, because I knew she’d look good but I wasn’t ready for her to look this damn good.

She wears this black two piece. The skirt is long and low waisted, giving me a view of the fine lines of her abdomen, a thin waist chain and a navel piercing, both gold that make my mouth water. The matching shirt falls off of her left shoulder, a velvet bunch of material that is ruched on her side.

All Raye ever wears is gold, which doesn’t change now, her rings are thin bands, and there are bracelets adorning her wrists from Van Cleef and Louis Vuitton. She’s dripped down in it, and it makes her glow even more than normal. Her scent, Chanel no.5 as per usual, travels up to my nose and I swear I could pass out from getting my eyes on her alone.

“Goddamn, Miss Carter.”

“Gimme a second, sorry.” She laughs, a pure and bright laugh that makes my eyes go wide.

I clear my throat, nodding my head while shamelessly raking my eyes over her. “Got all dressed up for me, huh?” I say, taking Maraye’s invitation to enter her room, the door closing behind me.

She scoffs. “You fuckin’ wish.” And if it weren’t for the fact that I heard from her own mouth that this outfit was specifically for tonight, I would have believed her. “I look good tho’?”

I nod almost immediately, my head moving before I could really even process what she just asked me. Because she looks damn good. Not just her clothing, the fine lines of each of her tattoos are shown off by what she wears, and her hair is completely different from when I saw it just this morning. Her curls blown out and trailing down her shoulders. She looks like a fucking model.

“You look—fuck. Raye, are you serious? You look gorgeous, ma.” I say, still almost breathless. “Y’know, I actually brought sum for you.”

“Why?”

I laugh at her reaction. “I mean, your birthday was yesterday. I was supposed to give it to you at the house, but someone was tryna get in my pants all night.” Raye instantly breaks eye contact with me at that, eyes traveling to the ceiling.

I dig into my back pocket, grasping the thin box in my hand before showing it to her. It’s simple, a thin sleek white that looks perfect against her hands.

Maraye looks at me skeptically, her eyebrow raising before she darts her eyes down at the box. She pulls the lid off carefully and I watch her intensely. The way she pouts at the thin line of jewelry in the box. There’s a gold Angel pendant in the center.

“Paige.” She starts, and her feet are moving in an instant. She brings an arm to my cheek cupping it before leaning into me and placing her lips on my other cheek. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah? You like it?” I can feel my skin get hot and I lick my lips.

“Mmhmm. Love it, blondie.” Maraye nods, a grin spreading across her cheeks and I swear I see her blush just a little. “Imma wear it tonight.”

I can’t even hide my face, completely taken aback. “Y-you don’t have to. Really, it ain’t a big deal. If y’ont like it—”

“No. I do like it and I am wearing it.” She reaches down for my wrist, pulling me further into the hotel room. “Help me put it on.” Raye smiles, and just like that all my nerves are gone. Because she’s here, just like I want her to be. She’s all dressed up, saying all the right things, and smiling that smile that makes me forget that we do have places to be.

I take the gold chain in my hands, raising my hands over her head and taking my spot directly behind her in the full length mirror. I clasp it, looking at how that pendant sits perfectly on the glistening hollow between her collarbones.

“It’s perfect.” My arms settle around her waist, my chin in the crook of her neck. I watch her watch the two of us in the mirror, her fingers tracing over where it decorates her neck in gold. “It’s a cute angel.”

I hum and press my lips against the column of her neck. “My angel, yeah?” And I know I live for the way her face blushed at it. Her ears visibly reddening and her eyes darting away from me in the mirror.

Raye’s head turns to meet mine, her glossed lips immediately catching my attention as they curl upwards into a smile. Then she nods. A simple fucking nod that makes my entire body feel hot. We’re inches apart, I can see the gears in her head turning. I just know Raye thinks she’s slick, but I catch the way her eyes move down to my lips anyway.

“C’mon. Let’s go.” She murmurs, breaking our intense gaze with a slight stutter. I peel my arms off her waist and step back. She reaches for her purse, tossing the black YSL bag onto her shoulder and doing one last look over the room before looking back at me.

All of a sudden the resolve I’ve attempted to have over the last 24 hours is out of the window. All I can think about is taking her right here, I don’t care about dinner. I care about the face she’d make under me, my name off her tongue, how fucking good I know she’d taste on mine. She looks like a dream, that fabric hugging every curve of that perfect—

“We’re gonna be late.”

I lick my lips for what feels like the 50th time since I’ve been here. Stalking over to her, I immediately wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her into me until I can feel her belly piercing pressing up against my abdomen.

“I’m makin’ you mine, the second dinner is over.” I mumble, my lips dangerously close to hers.

She’s enjoying this, the way I visibly go crazy for her. The way I stop holding back because frankly, I don’t think I have to anymore. Raye doesn’t have to say it, but the way she arches her body into mine and grips at my bicep lets me know it’s turning her on too. Or at least I’ll pretend it does.

“Coulda done it last night.” Raye shrugs. “Or this morning.” She says pointedly. Her other hand reaches for mine on her waist, tugging it off and pushing it to my side. She spins on her toes, placing one kitten heeled foot in front of the other as she reaches for the door.

I don’t even wait a second before my hand meets her ass.

“Paige!”

“Ain’t no way you thought I wasn’t gonna do that at least once.” She frowns at me, stepping to the side of the open doorway and looking at me expectantly.

“Walk in front of me.”

“Ma—”

“In front. Go.” Raye grits through her teeth, and when she looks at me like that I know better than to ignore her. I step through the doorway, watching behind me as she shuts it behind her. “You’re so annoying.”

I don’t answer, rather sticking my hand, palm up, for her to take. And she does. It’s then when I know that this is where I’m supposed to be, with her holding my hand. It’s simple, but still I think it makes my body react like it never has before.

She interlocks her fingers with mine, the coolness of her rings press into the sides of my fingers. She’s smiling, again. I drag her behind me, trying to get used to the feeling of our hands together, but all it does is mess up my head more.

“You look really pretty by the way.” She murmurs, her eyes are glued to the floor when I look at her. I know my hand is sweating as a reaction to her compliment, and I don’t know what to do besides muttering a ‘thank you’ with a cheeky smile.

I know I’m fucked. All I’m thinking now is that I have to make it through dinner. That’s it.

Get through dinner.

—

When I look away from our waiter— who has just informed us that a mistake was made in the kitchen and that our appetizers would be on the house— and over at Paige, she’s rolling her eyes and taking a sip from the wine she hated, but still insisted on getting an entire bottle of. She did it to make me happy, of course, even though I insisted that it wasn’t an issue for her to get her beloved Shirley temple.

She’s kissing her teeth, setting down the wine glass before picking up a slice of focaccia bread and smearing it in butter. “We need a different waiter.”

I can’t help but laugh at her sudden statement. “You’re being dramatic.” I say, following suit in throwing some bread into my own mouth.

“He tryna fuck you.” She points at me. I find her jealousy and blatant vulgarity amusing, especially when our waiter had to be no older than 18 years old.

I lick the crumb from the corner of my lips. “And how would you know that, Madison?”

“Bro was lookin’ at you how I look at you. And that’s sayin’ something.” She says loudly, as if it’s obvious. My eyes go wide as I attempt to get her to quiet down. Paige did a good job of getting us a secluded table. Throw in the soft jazz that played and the ambiance of the low light, she did wonderful at making dinner as romantic as she could.

But it was obvious that dealing with our waiter was not in her evening plans.

“Stop it, no he wasn’t.” I brush her off, reaching for my nearly empty first glass of wine. The scent travels through my nose, just barely adding to my growing tipsiness.

“And you're just flirting back. Smilin’ all big and shit.” Paige groans. “Showing all 32 is crazy.”

Her adamant attitude makes me smile, “He works in service, I’m being nice!”

“Flirting.”

“That boy prolly hasn’t even graduated high school yet, Paige.” I roll my eyes.

“You’re flirting.”

“You just love arguing wimme, huh?” I ask, leaning on my elbows to peer into her eyes across the table.

She grins, crossing her arms as she leans into me in the same way I am. “Were you not the one all hot and bothered by me yelling at you on the plane?”

I smirk at the memory. The way her eyes turned dark when I suggested she talk to me like that again. How she was so set on keeping her word but still fell victim to my antics on her lap. And I was so close to getting her how I wanted her if it hadn’t been for her fucking stubbornness.

“See that was me flirting.” I say, trying to get that event out of my head before I’m proving Paige right and getting all bothered again.

She shakes her head at me, scratching at her top lip with her thumb. The blonde takes her attention off me when that waiter comes back with our food. My blackened salmon and shrimp glistened in the sauce it came with. Alongside Paige’s ribeye steak, mashed potatoes, and broccolini.

She took control of the conversation with ease, allowing him to set down our plates before refilling our glasses of wine. I didn’t even spare a glance at our waiter because in my head, I’m thinking that there isn’t a moment in the last few months where Paige has looked hotter to me than she does right now.

I’d like to think that her choice of all black was purposeful because she knows how I react to it, but everything else has me losing my train of thought every few seconds into our conversations and whatever else that boy is saying to the both of us. Her Rolex watch gleams in the light each time she moves, the same with the diamonds of her 5 chain and earrings. Paige’s hair is slicked back into a bun that, outside of her wearing it down, might be my favorite style of hers.

I watch her intently, each movement of her fingers and arms. The way she licks her lips. Even the fake smile she gives to the waiter. Her fingers wrap around her glass, raising it slightly and tipping it towards my own. It’s then when I realize I’ve been doing nothing but staring and that I should probably follow suit.

“Be more slick next time.” Paige chuckles, our glasses finally clinking together. Her lips are just slightly glossed, a mixture of a sheer pink that makes them look even more beautiful than they already are when they touch the glass.

I take a heady gulp of my wine before reaching for my fork and knife, collecting them in one hand and draping the black cloth they came in over my lap. “Says the one who been staring at my tits all night, thinkin’ I didn’t notice.”

Paige tries to hide the face she makes, she really does. But when mine finally meet her blues, she folds almost immediately, swiping a hand over her chin and licking her lips with a gentle laugh.

“I dunno what you’re talking about.”

I look down at my plate while Paige does the same, my mouth heavily watering when I get a glimpse of my food, but even more when I see Paige’s plate.

“Madisonnnn.” I sing. My recent abuse of her middle name has made her smile all night, but this time she doesn’t. Mostly because she knows exactly what I’m asking for.

She shakes her head, preparing to cut her medium-rare steak, “absolutely not.”

“It’s my birthday.”

“Yeah, yesterday.”

“C’mon, just one bite.” I pout, hoping that it does what it normally does, and that is get her to crack.

She cuts a bite of the steak making sure to swipe it against the garlic butter on the plate before feeding it to herself. “You haven’t even tried your salmon yet, angel.”

On instinct I run my heel against her inner calf, moving it up higher until it’s up against her thigh. Paige’s eyes snapped to mine and I stuck out my lip, playfully batting my eyelashes at her.

“Please, baby?” I murmur softly. The pet name feels foreign on my tongue, not just because It’s my first time saying it in reference to Paige. I genuinely can’t remember the last time I’ve used it at all.

She swallows her steak and I watch her hand travel under the table. Paige gives me that fucking smirk, gripping my ankle and holding it in place against her lap to stop my antic. “Try your food first.”

I tug my ankle away from her and drop it to the floor, huffing before taking a bite of my perfectly seasoned salmon.

“How is it?” Paige asks, tapping a finger against the edge of the table.

I let the food melt on my tongue, “it’s amazing.” I mumble, following it with a sip of wine.

Paige nods in approval, cutting a piece of her steak as she did once before. She dangles the fork in my face like a dog with a toy. “C’mere, mama.”

I smile, not even bothering to hide it from her as I lean in some more, taking the bite she offered and letting the fork teasingly linger in my mouth.

“Good?”

I dance in my seat. “Good. I think mine tastes better tho’.”

And Paige rolls her eyes. Scooting backwards from me and getting back to eating. Happily getting her own playful revenge on me as she does so.

—

“You were what?” I ask, nearly choking on air as I laugh.

I sit on the edge of my hotel bed, foot bouncing eagerly as I talk to Raye through the wall that separates the main room from the bathroom in which she entered the second I got the door open. I’m guessing the multiple glasses of wine was a bad idea for the both of us. Especially tonight, because I’m going crazy now that it’s just me and her.

I’m supposed to be all ears to our conversation, to her telling me about her nerdy high school endeavors. And I am finding amusement at every bit.

Then, each time I blink, I’m thinking about her in that skirt. How her ass sits perfectly in it. The glistening glow of her waist chain on the perfectly defined abdomen, the curves of her hips.

I can hear her groan over my laugh, before the water of the sink begins running. “Theater, Paige. I did theater. Quit laughing, you idiot!” She yells out.

“You were a thespian? Like for real?”

The water cuts off, and her heels click against the bathroom tile before muffling against the carpet. Raye’s hips sway as she approaches me,

“You were a lesbian jock. And you still are, so shut up.” The grits, slipping the heels off her feet and standing between my legs. Her words don’t even click in my head, all my attention is on her.

I reach my hands up to her thighs, gripping them through the fabric. “Put on a show for me then.”

“That was the best line you could come up with?” Raye asks, a laugh freeing itself from her throat. Her hands tugged mine off of her body, leaving my palms cold from her absence.

“You tellin’ me you got something better?”

“Mmhmm.”

When she steps back I swear I’ve died and gone to heaven. Slowly, Raye pulls that black top off of her head, showing off her gorgeous, navy, lace bra. It cups her tits just right, complementing the brown of her skin and the gold of her jewelry so good I wanna rip the rest of those clothes off.

“‘Member what you said last night? Teach you and you’ll teach me, or whatever?” She breathes. I just nod again, reaching forward for Raye’s hip.

She smirks, sending my entire body into orbit. I’m soaked through my boxers and my jeans, completely enthralled by the way she looks before me.

Raye bores those perfect brown eyes into mine while she hooks her thumbs in the waistband of her skirt. “Wanna teach me sum then?” She tells me. I should’ve known that we couldn’t go more than five minutes in this room together before I was wanting to fuck her raw. Slow and deep and carnal and fucking raw. Wanting to give her everything that she’s never had before.

I shoot up to my feet, watching her skirt pool on the floor. She steps out of it, rolling her neck up to look at me through her lashes.

My eyes gaze over her body once more, how the lace on her hips clings to them. Her hair, bombshell curls— that I still don’t think I really ever got over— flipped over to one side and tattoo’s that decorated her skin in that perfect ink.

“I've been tryna take my time with you.” I groan, running a palm over my chin, “makin’ this shit so hard.”

She catches me by surprise when she throws her arms around my neck, arching her chest towards my face. The line of her cleavage is even more defined by the simple moment.

“Teach me.”

I take a breath. “On everything, I ain’t stopping when I start.”

“Teach. Me.”

—

I swear Paige is kissing me before I can even finish my words. Lips on my harsh and certain. The first time, she was so delicate; like she was trying to figure me out. The second time was desperate, and I’m sure if it wasn’t for us getting interrupted she would’ve turned me out in the studio that night. The third time was like a goodbye. Short and sweet, but full of everything we were yet to say.

This one? It’s like oxygen after drowning. Maybe it was all the strain we’ve been feeling since our fight, or all the sexual tension that we’ve been tiptoeing around over the last 24 hours. But I feel like I’m floating, like her hands that dig into my hips let me become one with the sky as her lips dance on mine.

Paige tastes like perfection. Not anything I can specifically point out except for the wine and the slight sweetness from our shared Oreo cheesecake.

I pull back, breaking the suction of our lips. She eyes the line of saliva that connects us, and I know it turns her on because Paige doesn’t even bother licking it away. She just brings me back, sliding her hands to my ass and gripping it as she entangles our tongues.

I suck on her hers sloppily, feeling myself grow wetter when she moans into the kiss. My hands cup her jaw angling my head just right so I can get more of her, more of anything.

In a swift movement she’s throwing off her jacket, the sound of it crashing to the floor muffled by the sound of our kisses. She’s turning me over, backing me towards the bed until I hit the foot of it. Paige lays me down, her action so gentle compared to the way she digs into my hips.

All of a sudden I’m hyper aware of it all. Of how I’m standing here in nothing but carefully picked lingerie, letting Paige fucking Bueckers kiss me within an inch of my life. How desperate I must seem for her, but she doesn’t care, equally as needy for me.

“Mine all fuckin’ night.” She murmurs on my lips, pulling away to lick her own as we both catch our breath. The coolness of her chain drags against my clavicle, making me gasp into her. Paige shakes her head, looking at me like she can’t even believe I’m real, before tilting my head with her hand at my jaw. Her lips attached to the line of it. “Gon’ fuck you till you can’t take it.”

I’m nodding, cupping her head to hold her there. I search her hair for the hair tie that holds her bun together, finding it and tugging her locks free so it falls down her shoulders. Paige kisses her way down my neck, finding my sweet spot almost too easily.

My other hand darts under her shirt to tug at the waistband of her jeans, moaning breathlessly when she sucks on that spot right where my neck meets the top of my chest. “Fuck.” I groan, deciding that the quicker I get these clothes off, the quicker I get to leave her bed a fucking mess. “Take this shit off, P. Now.”

I tug at the hem of her black shirt and Paige pulls back from me, lips swollen and wet, to ruck her shirt off and toss it on the floor. I trail my eyes over her body; muscular shoulders tanned from the sun of summer, sports bra clad to her chest, line of her abs and that obvious V that leads down into her pants.

It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.

She cages me in with her arms, which flex at every subtle movement. Paige starts with the kissing again, first with a bite to my earlobe before she trails lower and lower. Over the tattoo down the side of my neck, until she meets my chest. “You so perfect, angel.”

I hum, feeling myself get wetter and wetter with each word she says. “Paige.”

“Mm?” She purrs, looking up at me with her lips attached to the swell of my breast.

“Been—mmph— been wantin’ you for months, baby. Stop teasing and fuck me.” I stutter, allowing my fingers to tangle in her long blonde locks.

Paige curls her arm under my body, grounding my hips with one hand and unclipping my bra with the other. It comes easy for her, and my mind briefly travels to that place where I’m wondering how many girls she’s had to have done this to for it to be that simple. She peels my bra down my arms, tossing it behind her as well. The way she looks at me, like I’m prey, makes me realize I don’t fucking care. I can’t care, not when it’s just me and her.

“I gotchu, baby. I do, jus’ lay back.” Paige says. She licks up the center of my body before turning her head to lick at my nipple, swirling her tongue around it messily. She wraps her lips around it, sucking on my tit like it’s a pacifier. “So fine. Shit unreal.”

She does the same to my other breast, squeezing the flesh in her hand, biting at my nipple. She’s nasty. As I expected her to be, with the way she’s been acting since I met her. But this, the worshiping of my body is something I’ve never had before. With anyone.

Paige trails sloppy kisses down my torso, leaving hickeys on my stomach that I know I’m going to have to cover up in order to wear my outfit tomorrow.

She gets settled between my legs, trailing her nose against the hem of my panties. “Need this pussy, ma. Needa taste you.” She bites at the lace, snapping it against my inner leg and I whimper.

Her thumb curls into them, being slow and gentle with the way she tugs the clothing down my legs. “This okay?”

“Yeah. It’s okay.” I nod, lifting my hips to aid her. “So okay.”

In response she grins at me, kissing across my pelvis down to my inner thighs. Her eyes glued to mine, blues dark with how wide her pupils have dilated, before they dart between my legs to my soaked cunt. “Fuck, Raye.” She groans, pressing her thumb to my clit.

“P, I need—”

“No fuckin’ way you been keepin’ this from me.” Paige shakes her head in disbelief, kissing my thigh softly. “Gonna make it mine, baby. I swear.”

She’s leaning in at that, running her tongue up through my folds with the softest lick that makes my eyes roll instantly. I toss my head onto the pillows, letting her grip my inner thighs as she speeds up.

“Pussy tastes fuckin’ incredible, mama. So sweet.” Paige groans, lapping at my cunt like she hasn’t eaten in ages. Her lips wrapping around my clit, tongue running on the underside of it. She’s a fucking pro, garnering reactions that I’ve never had before.

My fingers grip the sheets beside me, back arching off the bed. “God, P. F—uck!” I croak, my moans coming out louder and louder as she eats me dry. “Shit, baby.”

Paige’s free hand is reaching for mine, releasing the sheets from my grip and replacing it with her own. She interlaces my fingers and that’s when I shoot up, looking down at her with my jaw slack.

I watch her, my wetness coating her mouth and the tip of her nose, her tongue licking up and down my folds and teeth nipping at my clit gently. It makes me mewl, her name and curses of pleasure the only thing I can give her.

She was sloppy—messy and unrefined in a way that shouldn’t have worked, but somehow it did. Paige’s mouth was nothing like the careful precision I had expected from her. Instead, it’s driven by pure want, a raw, desperate hunger that has my legs trembling around her head and my hips bucking into her mouth.

She has me feeling nothing but wanted. Wanted and wanted and wanted.

Paige pulls back for air, biting at her lips that are completely covered in my slick. She spits on me with nothing but filth. Watching as the trail slips past the folds of my cunt and past my asshole, she blows on it, the cool air making me shudder and squeeze her hand even harder.

“Oh! Keep going, baby. I can take it.” I groan, pulling her closer to my throbbing pussy.

“Gon’ take it just for me?”

“For you, P. Just for you.”

She suckles on my clit once more, “could die eating you, baby. Just fuckin’ perfect, Raye.” She pants.

“Fuck,” I breathe, my head tipping back as Paige nudges her teeth around my clit, sucking hard, pinning her palm to my hips to hold me steady. “Paige, you—oh my God—”

Paige hums against my pussy, and the vibration sends a jolt of pleasure through me that makes me cry out, my hips bucking again.

I can’t decide which was more overwhelming—the relentless pressure of her mouth, her eyes staring up at me, or the sheer dedication she put into it, like nothing else in the world mattered but getting me off.

Then her warm tongue was dipping into me for a second, fucking into me with precision, curling up in search of my spot. My hand flies to her hair, tugging the soft locks between my fingers, holding her face between my legs for a second. My legs shake warningly, that knot in my abdomen feels like it’s seconds away from snapping.

“You’re so fuckin’ good at this,” I manage, my voice breaking on the words as Paige’s eyes flutter shut while she all but made out with my cunt. “How are you so—shit—so good at this?”

Her chuckle vibrates through me, and the blonde pulls back to apply pressure to my clit with her fingers, licking her lips clean. “Ion think you want me to answer that, ma.”

She doesn’t even look at me, simply scissoring my folds apart and diving back into me. She’s right, I don’t want to know, so I let myself fall into her skilled tongue. My control slips, the confident front I’ve been trying to keep all day slipping into vulnerability.

I gasp, squeezing her hand as tight as I could. My eyes roll once again, “P, I’m gonna—”

“Cum in my mouth, pretty,” Paige moans into me, her voice muffled but insistent, large and veiny hand pressing into my hip to keep me in place.

The words sent me tumbling over the edge. My entire body tensing and back arching off the bed as a wave of pleasure crashes over me, pulling a strangled moan from her lips. I swear the world went white for a moment, every nerve in my body alight with sensation. Paige laps it all up, my cum pooling on her tongue.

She fucks me through it, her tongue slowing down and sucking coming to a stop. When Paige looks at me, hair all mussed and lips swollen, chains and earrings still dancing in the light— I decide right there that this is actually the hottest she’s ever looked. All decorated in the aftermath of my sex. Looking like this for me.

She licks her lips clean before kissing from my thighs up my abdomen. She licks at my navel, tugging my piercing between her teeth.

Paige continues up my body, suckling on the inside of my breast until another hickey forms, dark purple against the brown of my skin. “I’m gonna be livin’ between your legs from now on. Fuckin’ perfect.” She grins, leaning up to attach our lips.

I groan against her lips, pulling my hand away from hers to unbuckle the belt that holds her jeans. “You’re so good.” I praise, popping open the button on them.

“Fuck you good?” She responds, helping me out and tugging down her jeans and her boxers simultaneously. “Needa feel you on me. Need that shit.”

I break the kiss, feeling my heart beat so harsh in my chest. I curl my fingers into the band of her bra, and Paige raises her arms to help me get it off.

My eyes immediately fall to her chest, her supple tits and pink nipples. She’s breathtaking, and I want nothing more to wrap my lips around them and suck. I trail to her abs, practically shocked that a woman could look this fucking amazing in front of me. They dip even lower to her cunt which is positively soaked.

I can’t help but grin because I know it’s all for me. “Come get it, baby.”

Before I know it Paige wraps her arms around my hips, mirroring my smile as she flips us over settling her back against the headboard as I straddle her.

It’s right then when I get to see all of her. Legs spread apart for me, so fucking wet that I swear we’re both about to leave this bed a dripping mess. Her thighs are so damn muscular.

I let my mind drift to what it would feel like riding them.

Paige grips my thighs, throwing my right leg over hers and slotting our legs together. My eyes go wide, watching my legs tremble with I don’t know what. Nervousness, excitement, arousal.

“You okay? We don’t have to do anything else, I promise.” Paige looks up at me with crystalline blue eyes. Her hand running up and down my thigh, the other gripping my side and trailing her thumb over my rib tattoo.

“No, I want to.” I brush her off, looking down at how our cunts are slotted together, inches away from touching.

Paige bites her lip, running a hand back to grip my ass and tug me closer. “Put that pussy on me then. Ride me, ma.” She instructs.

I’m nearly falling out at the raunchiness of her words. I’d be an idiot to not listen to her, especially when she looks at me like I’m a piece of meat.

I grip the edge of the headboard with one hand, the other gripping her shoulder as I roll my hips down to meet her cunt. I gasp at how fucking soaked she is against me. “Oh fuck, P.” I stutter, feeling her clit press up against me.

“You’re so damn pretty, Raye. Fuck— oh my God.” Paige’s head hits the headboard, a moan tumbling past her lips. Loud, and it’s easily the prettiest thing I’ve ever heard. “Look how fuckin’ wet you get for me, soakin’ me up, baby.”

Her hands grip my hips, forcing my hips back and forth against her, grinding my cunt against her in the exact rhythm she wants.

“Oh. Oh—mmph—yeahhhh, baby. You feel so fucking good.” I whine, feeling that tension in my stomach, already overstimulated from my last orgasm.

Paige meets me halfway, bucking her hips up at me and I feel that inevitable connection that comes with the throb of her clit. “Shit. Shit, ma! This pussy fuckin’ perfect, baby.”

She’s matching my rhythm, fucking me back with fervent bucks of her hips. My nails dig into her shoulders, darting my head down to look at where we connected.

I’ve never in my life felt something this good before. It’s so intimate. The way she holds me and talks to me and feels every little thing that I’m feeling too. I don’t want to stop, I want to keep going, laying up with her all fucking night if I could.

“P—aige! ‘S so good, baby.”

“Fuck!” She shouts. “So close. You’re doin’ fuckin’ amazing baby.” Paige encourages. She sends a slap to my ass and I keep going for that feeling. That look of euphoria and approval that makes me wanna ride her better and harder and faster.

I’m louder than I’ve ever been before, growing closer and closer to that peak. “So wet, P.” I hiccup, my eyes glued to the wetness between the both of us, how I’m damn near slipping from how much she’s giving me.

“I know. Can hear it, angel.” Paige moans, digging her nails into the skin of my ass. “So messy, huh? Just creamin’ for me, Raye. Gonna make me cum.”

“Baby.” I cry, throwing my head back as that same feeling from earlier returns. I think I might explode.

She reaches for my neck, squeezing her hand around my throat and I’m losing concentration. It’s so hard to stay focused when she’s choking me like that, pulling my attention back to her and her fucked out face. If it wasn’t for the pleasure I felt in my core I could’ve probably come from that alone.

“Gimme one.” She groans. “Cum with me, ma. Need that shit. Need that cum all over my pussy. We almost there, c’mon.”

“Oh my— fuck. Fuck!” A scream rips through my throat, and I’m following through, clutching my hand on hers around my neck. Paige’s mouth falls open, pretty, high pitched cries leaving her lips as we finish together. I think both of us saw stars.

I can’t even control the sounds that leave me, mewls and cries and curses that make me mimic a damn sailor. Between the both of us, I can only hope we don’t run into anyone else on her hotel floor because if they didn't hear me before, they definitely heard us just now.

My legs shake and the second Paige releases my neck I’m trembling into her hold, feeling light-headed after drowning in pleasure like that. She wraps her arms around my waist, nestling her lips against my cheek as I catch my breath.

I can feel her heart beating against mine, her breathing mimicking my own. Her body is so warm against me, it’s a feeling that I never want to get rid of. I think I could spend the rest of forever like this, holding me and kissing me just like this.

I don’t even dare move my legs away from hers. Instead, I turn my head, kissing her in a suffocating kiss that she whimpers into before kissing me back, licking at my tongue and gripping my ass.

“We’re doing that all the time, baby. Holy shit.” I sigh. Paige chuckles into my mouth, biting my lip and tugging it back.

She just knows exactly how to get me worked up, how to get my heart racing, my mind running in laps, and my cunt dripping for her.

“Jus’ wait. Got so much more to teach you.”

—

“Swear, Imma knock you up one day.” I grumble in Raye’s ear, running my free hand over her tits and the hickeys I’ve made sure to leave there all night. She might have to wear a turtleneck to the All-Star game tomorrow night because there’s no way she’s gonna be able to cover them all.

She probably takes me for a joke. Which is fine. But in my head, if you got rid of all the anatomical inaccuracies that would make it physically impossible, I am certain that the way she’s been making me feel all night is more than enough for me to fuck her dumb and get her pregnant with my kid. That’s how fucking good she’s been.

“Prettiest fuckin’ tits. Swear.” I sigh in disbelief. Maraye is gorgeous. Has been since the second I laid eyes on her through the TV. Gorgeous in sweats and a stained t-shirt, in a floor length gown, in a mini skirt that gives so little to my imagination. But seeing her naked, like this, gets a reaction out of me that is anything but holy.

Her back is hot and sweaty against my chest, soft groans escaping her mouth as my fingers toy with her clit from behind.

The minute Raye stood in front of me, stripping her clothes and pushing her tits in my face. Her body glowing int the hotel light as she begged me to ‘teach her,’ I knew it was fucking game over.

I’ve made it my mission to make each experience worthwhile with everything I did to her tonight. Dragging her into the shower and letting her sink to her knees as she ate me out, I swear she was lying about having never done it before because she made me cum so hard I almost passed out. I took her again as soon as we got out, bending her over the sink and fucking my fingers so deep that she was squirting on the floor.

She rode my abs when we got back in bed, covering them in her own cream and then shocking me by licking it all off. I decided then that I need her again and again and again, in every possible way that I could have her.

Which brings us to right now. I circle her clit over and over, splaying my other hand over her stomach and tucking my head into her neck to watch. Strings of her slick sticking to my fingertips that I pull back for her to see.

“You been such a good girl for me tonight, takin’ everything I give you.” I coo against her skin. “My perfect angel.” I hum.

“Paige, just—mm— just like that.” I keep going, slow and deliberate circles because I know that anything else might send her thrashing against my body on the hotel chair.

“Yeah? You like that?” I whisper, kissing her neck in a much different manner than the one in which I’m touching her with. I spread her folds with my index and ring fingers, teasing her hole with my middle. “Don’t even need to get ‘em wet. You did it for me, ma.”

I sink my finger inside, relishing in the way she swallows up my whole finger and coats in arousal. Raye can take more, I know she can, I saw her take nearly my whole hand an hour ago. But I’m being gentle, so one is enough for now.

She tosses her head against my shoulder panting heavily, as if her throat won’t let her moan the way she wants to. She’s so damn soaked, the sound of my finger slowly sliding in and out bounces off the walls. I can feel it dripping out of her, down her ass and drenching my legs through my plaid boxers.

Raye curls her arm around my head, pulling me closer to her neck. I bite my lip, curling them deep inside into her spot. “Ah! Baby, baby! God, right there.” She squeals, digging her nails into my nape.

“You’re so damn beautiful, angel. Jus’ taking me so good.” I nod, holding her body as close as possible so I get that perfect look. That perfect view of her pretty cunt when I slip in a second finger.

That’s what gets her to thrash on my lap, attempting to shut her legs from me but I hold them open. Raye cries out my name, over and over and over again like a prayer. “Don’t fuckin’ stop. Please, m’ so close,” she moans.

“Stretchin’ you out so good, yeah? Gotta get you ready for me. Strap you so good when we get back. Do you so good, ma, I swear.” I speak gently.

I know her tells flawlessly now, how she lets her mouth fall open with nothing but choppy breaths passing into the air. How she grips on anything, eyes rolling into her skull. She’s close, about to make a mess on the last clean surface in the room but I don’t care.

Raye tips her head towards me, chasing my lips with her own. I let her, locking our lips in a slow kiss that feels just like the first time. Her tongue navigates my mouth, her teeth clashing with mine. She’s moaning haphazardly into my mouth, getting distracted by my fingers.

It fills me with a sense of pride I’ve never felt before.

“Wanna ruin it, Raye.” I groan, sucking her bottom lip before pulling back. “It’s mine, yeah?”

She nods rapidly, her legs shake and her moans make my ears ring. “Paige!” Maraye drags out my name, making me feel on top of the whole fucking world.

“This my pussy, ma? All me?”

“Shit. It’s y-yours. I promise.” I rut my fingers inside faster, attempting to ignore the sting in my arm. “I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” She hiccups. Her cunt squeezes me tight, and I know she’s right there.

“Gimme that shit, Raye. Make a mess for me, baby. I need that.” I murmur, “Y’know I’m right here. Just gimme that.”

A cry tears through her mouth, the loudest she’s been all night. Raye’s eyes are glued shut and she’s coming again. I never want it to end, if it were up to me, I’d take her out on the balcony right now but I know her. She’s trembling.

I ease my fingers out slowly, wrapping my arm tighter around her waist and circling her clit to work her through it.

When she finally comes down, her body trembling and her chest heaving, I don’t pull away immediately. I stay right where I am, gently kissing at her ear and mumbling sweet nothings. My touch softened as I helped Raye ride out the aftershocks.

“Fuck,” Raye finally breathes, her voice hoarse and unsteady. She lets out a breathless laugh, her hands falling to the sides of the armrests as she stares up at the ceiling in an attempt to find her thoughts again. “You ever fuck someone else like that, I swear to fucking God, I’ll kill you.”

I can’t help but grin against her skin. It’s completely Maraye, something only she could do after sex. She curls into hold, wrapping both arms around my neck and I let her, anything that lets me get her close like this.

“You remember what I said about making you mine tonight?” I ask, tracing circles on her lower back.

She nods. “Is that not what you just did for the last four hours?” A breathy sigh escaping her mouth.

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” I laugh. Suddenly all the air in my lungs is missing, the words I want to say getting lodged in my throat. Raye has this way of making me forget that I’m probably the most confident person on the planet. “I—um, I want you to be my girlfriend. Just me and you, Raye.”

I watch her eyes go wide as she tugs her t-shirt back over her exposed upper body. “Wh- you don’t think it’s too soon?”

“Do you?”

“No! No, I just, are you sure?”

“Am I sure that I want you as my girlfriend? Are you kidding?” I adjust her position in my lap, helping her get settled on my lap with her face to mine. She presses her palms on my bare chest, those eyes glued to mine with the slightest smile. “Yes. I want you. Only you, Raye. I don’t care if it’s too soon, ‘cause I’ve spent the last two and a half months waiting for you to be mine. I’m making you my girl. Who gives a fuck if it’s too s—”

She cuts me off without hesitation, I think I might go drunk from how many times she’s kissed me tonight. Raye starts with soft pecks, each one causing a groan to slip past me. “Yeah.”

“Mm– yeah what, angel?” I ask, smiling all against her lips. “Gotta say it.”

She breaks the kiss, smiling right back, all teeth and gums and I think she looks fucking beautiful. “Yes, Paige. I’ll be your girlfriend.”

—

September 2025 — London, England, United Kingdom

“So, what’s your type?” Amelia asks me, popping a fry into her mouth. She sits across from me in this booth at Morley’s Chicken, cameras surrounding the both of us. “Y’know, other than blonde and pretty with blue eyes.”

I have to hold back my giggle, because this is her thing. She flirts with all her guests while also seemingly trying to get little bits of information from my life. That’s why I know she’s describing herself, and not the girlfriend that waits for me at home in LA.

Home. A place where love is nurtured and bloomed, a place that I now can only ever associate with Paige. She’s perfect, patient, communicative, funny, slightly annoying but in a way that makes her comfortable and charming. She’s my home now.

“That’s exactly my type, actually.” I nod, wrapping my lips around the straw of my fruit punch juice box. “To a T.”

“Really?” Amelia’s accent sticks out to me immediately, making me giggle. “What’s funny?”

“I like your accent.” I say. “But yea, that’s exactly my type.” I repeat, trying my hardest to fight the growing smirk on my lips. When this episode is edited and Paige sees it, I just know she’s going to be all smiles.

Amelia nods, a posh grin and an adorable shrug of her shoulders being sent my way. “Well obviously. You wouldn’t be on a date with me then, I suppose. You are just seeing me right?” She continues with the bit.

“Of course.”

I let my mind wander off to Paige the minute I say that. It’s early here, which means she’s probably asleep back in LA. Cuddled under the covers of my bed that is slowly becoming our bed. At the apartment with my name on it but clothes and shoes and snacks that could only belong to Paige. She’d woven her way into my life, into my home, into my music. So that even now, when I’m countries away, and talking about my music career, she’s all I can think about. Because there was nothing like being with Paige.

And I got to call her mine.

All mine.

#sierrale8ne #kalena’s works ୧ ‧₊˚ 🍵 ⋅#paige bueckers #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x oc #uconn wbb #la sparks #lesbian #my fic #40 days and 40 nights

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redroomreflections · 2 days ago

Text

Her Best Secret

1950s Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha and R are having an affair.

Note: I wrote this after watching Mother's Instinct with Anne Hathway and Jessica Chastain. I needed to make it gay. I don't know what this is truly but it's here.

Warnings: Smut and fluff kind off.

Picket fences. Two-and-a-half children. A dog in the yard. A steady job. A house on a quiet street. Nuclear family. Marriage. College. This was what life was about. The checklist of happiness, painted in bright colors and polished to perfection, like the chrome trim on the cars Sam sold so well.

Tonight, it all seemed true. The music drifted out from the open windows of Steve and Natasha’s house, mingling with the scent of freshly cut grass and neighbors' laughter on the patio. The neighborhood had turned out to celebrate Sam’s big promotion—another shiny star on the life everyone was striving for. You stood by the punch bowl, watching as Natasha twirled beneath Steve’s hand in the center of the makeshift dance floor. Her laughter was light and infectious, her cheeks flushed in a way that made her even more stunning under the string lights. She looked happy—effortlessly so.

Your gaze lingered a moment too long before you turned away, your hand brushing absently over the fabric of your dress. Sam was recounting the story of his big sale to an eager group of neighbors somewhere nearby. You could hear his voice rise and fall, full of charisma and charm, the same traits that had swept you off your feet all those years ago.

"Mama, come dance with us," Claire demanded as she tugged on your hand. Your daughter was the perfect mix of the two of you, and she never ceased to make your heart swell. You smiled down at her, smoothing the hair out of her face and taking in her toothy grin.

“In a minute,” you promised, swirling the punch in your glass. “Let me finish this.”

“Okay,” Claire shrugged, already distracted. She launched into her version of the jitterbug as “Why Do Fools Fall In Love” spun on the record player. Her tiny feet shuffled wildly, arms flailing with abandon. It wasn’t quite the jitterbug but hers, and she owned it.

You smiled, watching her. The song brought back memories of Sam. You could almost feel the warmth of his hands around your waist, guiding you through the steps, the two of you laughing and stumbling over each other in the middle of your living room. A good memory.

“It’s a great party, right?” came a voice behind you.

You turned to see Sarah Wilson, her warm smile disarming as always. She was one of those rare people who could make anyone feel at home. Your sister-in-law had been a steady presence in your life, offering unsolicited advice and unwavering support.

“Oh, of course,” you nodded, eyes flicking between Claire’s eclectic moves and Natasha and Steve, who were swaying comfortably in the center of the dance floor. “Everyone seems to be having a good time.”

“Yeah, I’ll say,” Sarah chuckled, nodding toward the dance floor. “I didn’t think Natasha would ever get Steve out there. That man’s all business. But look at them now.”

You smiled into your glass, forcing a little laugh. “They seem like they’re enjoying themselves.”

“Speaking of enjoying,” Sarah said, her tone shifting as her gaze landed on Claire. “Your little one’s a great dancer. She’s got rhythm for sure.”

“Thanks,” you said, feeling a touch of pride.

“Have you two thought about giving her another playmate?” Sarah’s voice was casual, but her eyes gleamed with curiosity.

The question was unexpected, and you took a step back. It was a fair question. Most couples with kids would have more than one. You had known that since the day Claire was born. But the thought of having another child—with Sam, of all people—made your stomach churn.

Sarah was waiting, and you knew her well enough to know that she would keep pressing until you answered.

"Oh, well,” you began, fumbling for an answer, “I’ve been thinking about returning to work. It’s just not the right time for us.”

Sarah arched an eyebrow, a knowing smile spreading across her face. “Work, huh? Well, I’m sure Sam has his own thoughts about that.”

Before you could respond, Sam appeared beside you, his arms wrapping around your waist. “What’s going on here?” he asked, his easy grin softening the tension in your chest.

“Oh, nothing,” Sarah said lightly, though her tone betrayed her nosiness. “We were just talking about Claire’s dancing—and whether she might get a little brother or sister someday.”

Sam glanced at you, his brow lifting in amusement. “Is that so?”

You felt your cheeks warm as you shrugged helplessly.

“She said she’s thinking about returning to work,” Sarah added, her teasing smile turning to him.

Sam chuckled and shook his head. “Come on, Sarah. Leave her alone. She’s got enough on her plate without you playing matchmaker for the kids. If you'll excuse me, I want to dance with my wife."

Sarah rolled her eyes at her brother. Then, with a quick wink to you, she said, "Okay, okay, I can take a hint. But don't go too far. We're doing the fireworks after dinner and need help setting up all the chairs."

Sam took your hand and pulled you out onto the dancefloor, ignoring his sister, twirling you playfully before pulling you close. His eyes shone, and you wondered how much he had had to drink. It didn’t matter. You needed this right now; you needed to feel the warmth of his skin against yours and a distraction from seeing her with him.

"I didn't know you were thinking about returning to work," he said, his eyes searching yours.

"It's been on my mind, yes," You nodded.

"I thought we agreed you didn't need to," He tilted his head slightly. "You'd be leaving Claire with a babysitter or at daycare. We can afford to take care of her ourselves."

"I know, but..." You trailed off.

He grinned down at you, his frown barely noticeable as he leaned closer. “But what?”

You laughed softly, letting him spin you again, your hesitation hidden behind the dance. “I just… I like the idea of doing something for myself again, you know?”

Sam pulled you close, his hand firm at the small of your back. His grin widened, his tone teasing. “You mean besides raising the most beautiful kid in the neighborhood?”

You couldn’t help but smile at his charm. “Exactly,” you quipped, tapping his chest lightly. He pulled you tighter to him.

"I know it's what you want," He whispered. "But you look so beautiful when you're pregnant."

You rolled your eyes. "You're ridiculous, Sam."

"I'm just being honest," He said, his tone light and playful.

"You're drunk, and I'm tired." You tried to pull away, but he held fast, his hands firm on your hips.

"You know you want to," he teased, his breath hot on your ear. Finally, he sighed. "I love you."

"I love you, too," You muttered, closing your eyes as his lips brushed your temple. When he moved to kiss your lips, you didn't pull away. You loved Sam. You really did. You always had.

And yet...

"Okay, lovebirds,” came Natasha’s voice, cutting through the music with playful ease. “Sam, let me take her away. It’s my turn to dance.” She said it with a teasing grin, the kind that made her so easy to like. Natasha, your closest friend, was a familiar presence, one the neighborhood never found threatening.

Sam chuckled, loosening his hold on your waist. “Fine, but don’t wear her out,” he replied with mock seriousness. "I need her tonight."

You pulled away and offered him a polite smile, careful not to meet his gaze.

From the corner of your eye, you caught Sam exchanging a glance with Steve. The two men shrugged, their silent communication as effortless as their friendship. They knew nothing could come between the two of you.

“You alright?” Natasha asked softly, her voice low enough for only you to hear.

“I’m fine,” you replied.

She smiled, her lips curving into that mischievous way of hers, her eyes sparkling like she already knew the truth. “Good. Let’s go find some real fun.”

Before you could respond, she grabbed your arm gently but insistently, steering you off the dance floor and down toward the basement. She fumbled for the light control before pulling the string.

“What are we doing down here?” you asked, a small laugh escaping as she guided you to the landing. "I'm going to twist my ankle."

Natasha continued. “Sometimes a girl needs to breathe,” she said lightly, though there was an undercurrent to her words. "And Steve keeps the good beers down here."

"Well, thank God for Steve," you laughed.

"Amen," Natasha nodded as she rumbled through the deep freeze. "Ah, we only have one."

"We can share it," You shrugged. "We have the best stories, and I think we've earned it."

"Cheers," Natasha said as she raised the can and pulled the tab to open it. She wasn't anticipating the rush of foam that exploded from the top, so she stepped back in horror. Droplets landed on the floor and her dress.

"Oh no," You groaned.

"Shit," She muttered, trying to brush the beer off her front.

"Oh, no. Natasha, I'm so sorry. Come here," You reached for the paper towels on the table and tried to wipe off the beer. "I think I made it worse."

"Yeah, me too," Natasha muttered, frowning as she dabbed at the wet stain. "God, I can't believe this. This is the worst."

You sighed, trying not to laugh. "It's not that bad. Just tell people it's a design feature. Or... or pretend it's a bloodstain. Tell people you got a little violent."

Natasha's laughter bubbled up, and she gave you a playful shove. "Don't joke like that! My blood is supposed to stay on the inside, thank you very much. Also, it's clear, and blood is red."

You chuckled, reaching for the can. "Here, give me some of that."

Natasha relented and watched as you sipped from the can. Her eyes never seemed to leave you.

"So...how's Sam?"

"He's...good."

Natasha's eyes narrowed slightly. "That's it?"

You shrugged. "What do you want me to say? He's...good. Things are good."

"Mmm," she hummed, tilting her head slightly.

"What?" you asked, your voice coming out more defensively than you intended.

"What were you guys talking about?"

"Nothing. It was nothing. Just...work. Stuff. Things. Nothing important."

Natasha pursed her lips, clearly unconvinced. "Uh-huh."

You sighed, trying not to fidget under her stare. "He wants another baby."

Natasha blinked. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"And?"

"And what?"

"How do you feel about it?"

"I don't know," you shrugged. "I mean, I love Claire, and I don't know if we're ready for another baby. And..." You trailed off.

"And?"

"It's just...hard," you admitted quietly. "He's so attentive when I'm pregnant, and I get to spend a lot of time with him, and then when the baby comes, he gets so busy. It's just...hard. And sometimes, I think maybe it would be better if we didn't have any more kids."

"You don't want Claire to have a sibling?" She probed. "Are you guys being careful?"

"By careful, do you mean not letting him finish inside me?"

"Um, yes?"

"Then yes," you confirmed, nodding. "Do you really want to hear the ways Sam and I are practicing safe sex?"

Natasha laughed, the sound soft and low, a private melody just for you. “No, no, I don’t,” she said, shaking her head slightly. She would rather you not sleep with him at all. She sighed, the corners of her mouth tugging downward, then licked her lips—a slow, deliberate motion that drew your attention, as it always did. That shade of red was your favorite on her, and she knew it.

Her green eyes met yours, steady and probing. “Are you happy?”

The question hit you like a stray gust of wind, sudden and disarming.

“Of course,” you replied, the words tumbling out too fast, too practiced. “Why wouldn’t I be happy?”

Natasha raised a single, elegant eyebrow, the expression laced with skepticism. “Because I can tell when you’re lying,” she said plainly, her tone cutting through your defenses like a knife through butter.

Your shoulders slumped slightly as you leaned against the countertop. The calm surface grounded you, though it couldn’t stop the swirl of emotions rising in your chest. “It’s just hard sometimes,” you admitted quietly, almost to yourself.

Her gaze softened, the sharp edges of her wit giving way to something warmer, something more tender. “Yeah, I know,” she murmured.

She set down the beer can she’d been holding, the metallic clink almost imperceptible under the weight of her words. Her fingers drummed on the countertop; the rhythm was uneven, nearly hesitant, as if her thoughts were tangled in the silence between you. The crimson polish on her nails caught the dim light, matching the glow in her eyes as she studied you.

“Sometimes,” she began, her voice barely audible, “I think we forget we’re allowed to want more.”

Your heart skipped a beat, the implication hanging like unspoken truths. You glanced back toward the stairs, where laughter and music blasted above you, but it felt a world away from this moment.

“And what if we can’t have more?” you asked, your voice trembling just enough to betray the depth of the question.

Natasha’s lips curved into a faint, bittersweet smile. “Then maybe we take what we can get,” she said softly, her eyes never leaving yours. Before you could respond, Natasha's lips were on yours. Soft. Warm. Inviting. Her arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer, and you could feel the heat radiating from her body.

A quiet moan escaped her, muffled against your mouth, and you could taste the sweetness of the beer lingering on her tongue. You closed your eyes, losing yourself in the warmth of her touch, in the familiar scent of her perfume. Your mind raced, and yet your thoughts were perfectly still. Her body was so different. Her touch was so different.

A loud thump, followed by the unmistakable sound of laughter, cut through the air. Then a cry and a scream of "Mama" followed. Natasha pulled away quickly, her face flushed, her breathing uneven. You glanced at the ceiling, the spell between you broken. That was the cry of your child.

"I should probably go and check on her," You said while Natasha spoke.

"We should probably get back," Natasha murmured.

You nodded, unable to meet her eyes. Wiping your mouth, you glanced back at her before heading upstairs.

*****

You could smell the firecrackers before you saw them, the sharp scent of smoke mingling with the sweet smell of hamburgers grilling. Claire sat in your lap, the three-year-old tired and sleepy from all the excitement. You couldn't blame her after the day chasing the other kids around the house.

Claire leaned her head against your chest, her eyes heavy with sleep. You rubbed her back absently, smiling at how her small hand curled around yours.

The sky was dark, but the backyard was lit by the string lights draped over the trees and the fireworks in the sky. You were amazed at how she could sleep through this. Sam sat next to you in the grass, his arms wrapped around your waist and his hands rubbing your side. He felt at home.

Briefly, you could see a flash of the light catching across a couple, and your eyes moved towards them. It was Natasha and Steve. He stood almost a foot taller than her, his arms wrapped around her midsection as she leaned back into his chest. They looked comfortable like they belonged together. How their bodies seemed to mold into each other was the kind of thing romance novels talked about.

They were so beautiful together.

The thought made you uneasy.

Sam leaned over and whispered in your ear, his breath warm on your skin. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," you murmured, leaning into him. "Just a bit tired. She's a heavy sleeper."

He chuckled softly, his hand reaching up to caress your cheek. His thumb brushed your skin, and you closed your eyes, enjoying the sensation.

"You know, it's our anniversary tomorrow," He said, his tone casual, but the meaning behind his words clear.

"Oh," you said, trying to keep the surprise out of your voice.

"Yeah, five years," he smiled.

"Wow, I can't believe it's been that long," you admitted.

"Me neither," he grinned, kissing your lips softly. You couldn't see Natasha's eyes on the two of you.

Sam looked up and noticed the fireworks lighting the sky. He nudged Claire and whispered, "Come on, sweetheart. You're going to miss the fireworks."

Claire lifted her head, blinking blearily. "No, Daddy. I'm sleepy," she whined.

"Come on, pumpkin. Let's watch the show," Sam coaxed, his voice gentle and coaxing. Claire groaned softly but let Sam lift her into his arms. She rested her head on his shoulder, her tiny hands gripping the fabric of his shirt. “Alright, pumpkin,” he said with a chuckle, “just for a little while.”

You watched them walk toward the edge of the patio, where the first bursts of fireworks lit up the night sky. Claire’s sleepy eyes reflected the vibrant colors as she yawned against her daddy's chest.

Five years. It was a long time. You'd built a life together. One you were proud of. One you were comfortable with.

Your eyes drifted to the couple again, and your chest tightened. Natasha and Steve looked so natural together. So at ease. And then there was you, feeling like an imposter. You weren’t the girl Sam fell in love with anymore. You weren't the one who wanted all the same things he did. And you couldn't tell him. You couldn't shatter his image of you.

Sam whispered something into Claire's ear, lifting her head to look at you.

"Mama, come watch."

"In a minute, baby," you called, your voice thick with emotion.

You swallowed hard, trying to fight back the tears. How could you be so selfish? Sam had given you everything. He had given you Claire. You were blessed, yet you couldn't seem content with what you had.

Natasha echoed in your mind: Sometimes we forget we're allowed to want more.

*************

Tuesdays were sacred. At exactly 12:30, without fail, Natasha would appear at your front door, her heels clicking softly against the pavement as she walked the three doors down. By the time the clock struck the half-hour, you would already have the kettle whistling on the stove and the good china laid out.

It started as a casual thing—a neighborly gesture during those quiet, lonesome afternoons when the house felt too big and Sam was at work. But over time, it became something more. A ritual. A promise.

This Tuesday was no different. You were finishing the vacuuming when you heard Claire shriek with laughter from the living room. You smiled to yourself, knowing what that meant.

You rounded the corner, the vacuum still humming, and saw Claire spinning in circles as Natasha crouched down to her level, a broad smile on her perfectly painted red lips.

“She’s getting good at this,” Natasha teased, catching Claire mid-spin and lifting her off the ground.

“Too good,” you replied, switching off the vacuum and leaning against the doorway. “She’s going to join the circus at this rate.”

Natasha laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. Her gaze traveled to the hallway and the bags of groceries waiting by the front door.

"Let me help," She said, setting Claire back on the floor.

"Thanks," you murmured, grabbing the nearest bag. "I don't know why I let Sam talk me into doing this today."

"Probably the same reason I let Steve convince me to get the new patio furniture," Natasha chuckled, following you into the kitchen.

"He can be persuasive, can't he?"

"Yeah, yeah, he can," She agreed, her tone wistful.

"It's not a bad thing," You said, placing the bags on the counter.

"Tasha, come play," Claire begged.

"In a minute, little one," Natasha promised. Claire nodded and rushed back into the den with her toys.

"How about some tea?" You offered.

"You read my mind," Natasha smiled.

You took the teapot from the cupboard and filled it with water, watching as the steam rose from the spout. Your thoughts drifted back to that night in the basement, and you wondered if Natasha felt the same. There had been many nights like that. Many shared kisses. Shared looks. You think back to that night months again when you'd given her her first orgasm at the hands of a woman.

It was a moment that changed things. It was the moment you knew you were done pretending.

"I'm glad we have this," Natasha murmured.

"Tea?"

"No, silly. Time." She turned to look at you, her green eyes softening. "I'm glad we have this. This friendship."

You couldn't help but smile. "Me, too."

"So," Natasha said, leaning against the counter and folding her arms over her chest, "how are things going with you and Sam?"

You shrugged. "Good."

"That's all you're going to give me?" She prodded, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"There's not much to tell," you admitted.

"You guys had an anniversary a few nights ago," Natasha reminded you.

"Do we discuss the juicy details like that still?"

Natasha hesitated, then shook her head. "No, but I'm asking because I care about you, and I know Sam has been a bit persistent about the baby thing."

You sighed, turning back to the stove. You were silent.

"I'm sorry," Natasha said quietly. "I shouldn't have brought it up."

"No, no, it's fine," you assured her. "It's just..."

"Just what?"

"Nothing."

"Hey, it's just me," Natasha reminded you gently, reaching out to touch your arm. "You can tell me anything."

You hesitated, then blurted out, "What are we doing?"

"What do you mean?"

"Us," you said, gesturing between the two of you. "What are we doing? Is this just a...thing?"

Natasha blinked, her expression unreadable. "A thing?"

"Yeah, like, I don't know, an escape or something," you tried to explain. "Like, a distraction."

Natasha shook her head slowly. "No, no, I wouldn't say that."

"Then what would you say?"

"I'd say that I enjoy spending time with you. I'd say that you're a beautiful, smart, funny woman, and I'm lucky to call you a friend."

"But what does that mean?"

Natasha stepped closer, her hand moving from your arm to the small of your back. Her gaze never left yours, her eyes searching for an answer to a question she couldn't quite voice.

"It means that I care about you," she said softly. "And if you ever need a distraction, I'm here."

"What if I don't want a distraction?" You breathed.

"What do you want?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

You didn't answer. Instead, you pulled her across the kitchen to the laundry room. You left the door open to hear Claire in case she needed you. In an instant, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to hers, kissing her like it was the last time.

She kissed you back, her hands resting on your neck, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss. Her tongue parted your lips, and you tasted the sweetness of her breath. Her hands moved lower, sliding over your curves, and you moaned softly against her mouth.

"Tasha," You gasped as her fingers traced the waistband of your jeans, her touch burning hot against your skin.

She broke the kiss, her eyes dark and hooded. "Yes?"

"I want you."

"I'm yours."

Her lips crashed against yours, and her hands fumbled with the button of your jeans, her touch making your skin tingle.

"Tasha, we can't Claire's here." You reminded her between kisses.

"She's playing," Natasha muttered, her fingers finally popping the button. Before either of you could ponder her statement, the front door opened. In a flash, Natasha was in the kitchen, pushing the rest of the groceries into the fridge as you attempted to gather your bearings. She was so fast.

"Hello?" Sam's voice called from the foyer.

"We're in the kitchen," You answered, closing the laundry room door and ensuring it was locked.

Sam walked into the kitchen, his suit jacket draped over his arm and his tie loosened. "Hey," he smiled. "I thought I'd surprise you guys."

"Well, it worked," Natasha laughed.

"Sorry, I forgot my lunch. I'll grab it and head out," Sam said, moving past the two of you. He glanced between you, his gaze lingering on your face.

"I'm going to finish the dishes," You murmured, turning away.

Sam stopped and frowned. "Hey, you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," you lied, forcing a smile. "Just feeling a little tired."

"You should rest," Sam stepped closer to you. "Have a cup of tea?

"I will."

"Good," Sam leaned forward and kissed your cheek. "Love you."

"I love you too," You said, the words coming out automatically. Sam lingered, landing another sweet kiss on your lips.

Natasha looked over her shoulder at you, her expression unreadable. "Sam, before you go, can I ask a favor?"

"Of course."

"Can I borrow a screwdriver? We're working on the deck chairs, and one of the bolts keeps slipping," She explained, her voice surprisingly steady.

"Sure, no problem," Sam said, digging through a drawer. He pulled out a screwdriver and handed it to Natasha. "Here you go."

"Thanks," Natasha smiled. "Oh, and before I forget, I'll have those pictures of Claire for you next week."

"Thanks," Sam replied. "And thanks for keeping them company."

"My pleasure," Natasha grinned.

"Okay, I'm heading back out. See you later, baby," Sam kissed you once more before disappearing into the foyer. The front door opened, then shut, leaving the house strangely empty.

"That was close," Natasha said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up. "Yeah, it was," you agreed. "But it was worth it."

"Do you regret it?"

"No," you said without hesitation.

"Me neither," She murmured, stepping closer.

You leaned into her, resting your head against her chest, listening to the steady beat of her heart. "Tasha?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being there. For being my friend. For just being...you."

Natasha hugged you, her arms wrapping around your waist and her chin resting on your head. "Anytime," she said softly, and you knew she meant it.

*****

Drive-In Night was interesting. It's a couple's night, truly. The four of you would get together and watch whatever movie was playing. This time, it was How to Marry A Millionaire. You all piled into Steve’s car, a vintage Chevy that seemed as timeless as its owner. It was a tight fit, but no one complained. The air buzzed with the crowd's excitement as headlights flickered across the makeshift parking lot of the drive-in theater.

Natasha sat into the passenger seat, leaning her elbow out the window, her eyes scanning the packed lot with a subtle smirk. “I’m impressed, Rogers. Didn’t think you’d show up for something so… pink.”

Steve laughed, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “What can I say? I’m broadening my horizons.”

From the backseat, you chuckled. “You mean Natasha dragged you here, didn’t she?”

“Guilty,” Steve admitted, glancing sideways at Natasha, who simply shrugged. “Besides, it’s not like Sam and I had a choice.”

Sam, beside you, snorted. “Yeah, yeah. Real gentlemen, right?” He stretched his arm along the back of the seat, pulling you closer. “But hey, don’t think I’m above enjoying a rom-com. I’ve got range.”

Natasha tilted her head back, laughing. “Sure, Wilson. You’ll be crying by the second act.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Sam fired back, grinning.

You rolled your eyes fondly. They constantly bickered like this, but it was good-natured. You could tell they were friends. Real friends.

The movie began, and the warm glow of the screen washed over the car. The plot unfolded with charm, full of meet-cutes, sassy best friends, and conveniently timed rainstorms. It wasn’t bad, but you couldn’t help but notice Sam shifting every so often, clearly restless.

“Alright,” Sam announced midway through a particularly swoony montage. “Steve, snacks?”

Steve glanced at Natasha, who was far too engrossed in the movie to notice him leaving. “Yeah, good idea. You girls want anything?”

You and Natasha exchanged a look. “Popcorn,” you both said in unison.

Sam and Steve left the car, their silhouettes fading into the crowd as they made their way to the concession stand. Moving closer to the front seat, you shifted and settled comfortably against the backrest.

Natasha glanced over her shoulder, a smile playing on her lips.

You smiled back.

The moment passed.

"You're so far away," You whispered.

"I know," she whispered back, her eyes sparkling in the dim light. "Come closer," She whispered. You climbed into the front seat, quickly glancing at the long concession line.

"Is this better?" You asked, settling in.

"Much," she said, reaching up and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

Your breath caught in your throat.

"You're cute," She said. What she was doing was risky business. While it was dark, anyone with eyes and the guts to look your way could see.

"So are you," You responded.

"I want to kiss you."

"You do?"

"I do."

"I want to fuck you," She said.

Your heart hammered in your chest, the heat between your thighs growing with each passing second. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You leaned in. Her hand rested on your thigh, rubbing you through your skirt. "Tasha," you whimpered.

"Yes, kitten," she whispered.

"We can't"

"Why not?"

"It's too risky."

"No one's looking."

"What about Sam and Steve?"

"They're at the concession stand. And the movie is loud."

"But what if someone hears?"

"We'll be quiet."

"We've never been quiet," You giggled.

"We'll try," she whispered. She knew she didn't have much time. She needed this to happen and fast. Her hand slipped under your skirt, and she felt the dampness of your panties.

"Jesus, you're soaked."

"I can't help it."

"Neither can I."

She slid her hand down, pushed your panties aside, and plunged her fingers inside you. Your hips bucked, and you bit back a moan.

"So tight," She moaned.

"So good," You whimpered. She was an expert by now. She knew your body well and learned how to make you cum.

She fucked you hard and fast, her fingers hitting all the right spots. She was gentle while somehow being able to get you there so quickly. You couldn't moan or tell her how close you were. You couldn't even thrust into her fingers. You could only sit there and take it. Your face remained natural even as you closed your eyes. The pleasure was too intense, and you wanted to focus on it. You wanted to savor every second.

When you came, you bit down on your lip, drawing blood. Natasha watched you come undone under her hand.

"You are perfect," She whispered, leaning in and kissing your cheek. You were a trembling mess.

"Tasha," You breathed, trying to catch your breath.

"I can't wait to do that again," She said.

"Me too."

She kissed your cheek once more before sitting back.

You were her best secret.

#natasha romanoff #black reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanov #black widow x female reader #natasha x you

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puckinghischier · 17 hours ago

Note

Going off the exes to lovers w/ Quinn…

You guys are still in the same friend group so sometimes you still have to see each other during gatherings or in passing and it’s just little things that Quinn does or says that makes you realize you never fell out of love with him. Like he knew you were coming out on the boat for the day with them so he stocked up on your fav snacks to put on the boat. Or maybe he heard you were sick from his brothers so he insta carts stuff to your house. Just things that makes it blatantly obvious that he still cares.

oh he’s using every opportunity. you drank too much and need a ride home from the bar? he stopped drinking the second you ordered your third drink.

you mention in a gc you’ve been craving a certain type of food? it shows up at your door in an hour.

your friend mentions that you’ve been feeling homesick lately? your parents, somehow, mysteriously, found the money in their budget for a couple of place tickets to see you.

he would be so subtle, so nonchalant with it you don’t even notice until you look back. it’s like he never left. he’s always just…there. waiting.

it’s not like the two of you had some big, blow out break up. it was more so like you still loved him, but you needed to love yourself more. so you’re still friendly. you still speak when in groups together and you still frequent games.

but it’s like his presence in your life never really faltered, even though the absence is what you said you needed.

so one day, when you pretended to order drinks, you noticed the way his glass stayed empty as long as yours stayed full. you mentioned in a gc without him you were craving italian food, and for once, it never showed up.

you kept noticing all the things he was still doing for you, and against your will, your resolve cracked. you knew he loved you, and you still loved him, but you figured he’d quit paying attention after awhile.

but he never did.

and when you confronted him about it? well…he didn’t even deny any of it. he admitted to it like he was saying the sky was blue, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“well, why would i stop? you need someone to look after you, and i don’t trust anyone else to do it, so why stop doing what i love for who i love?”

his words were like a punch to your gut, because why, why couldn’t he have just said those things when you two were together?

“quinn, it’s not that simple. you just weren’t…there.”

that? saying he was never there? that made him angry. because while he may not have been physically there, he was always there.

“that’s bullshit. that’s bullshit and you know it. yeah, i might not have been able to be with you all the time, but don’t ever fucking tell me i wasn’t there, y/n, because i’ve always only ever been there.”

he points to your chest as he says it. his outburst surprises you, but it makes you think.

yeah, maybe he was gone all the time, but somehow your car always stayed cleaned and serviced, without you even realizing. maybe he was in a different country most of the time, but there was never a lack of fresh flowers in your apartment. maybe he wasn’t able to be on his phone all the time, but your voicemail was never empty, sweet recordings littering the inbox.

so yeah, maybe he wasn’t always there, but he was never really absent, was he?

as you stand there looking at a red faced and angry, but mostly hurt, quinn, you think…maybe he’s always meant to be there, clouding your thoughts and filling the ache in your chest you forced him to leave.

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nkplanet · 2 days ago

Text

SHE’S ELECTRIC

dean x fem!reader cw suggestive making out, nicknames (sweetheart, his girl, darlin’), swearing, minor spoilers for s3/4? (hell) wc 746 cross posted on ao3

summary to dean, you’ve never looked better than when you’re covered in blood and sweat after a hunt notes this is 100% self indulgent. i need this man like i need oxygen

dean knew, deep down, that you could handle yourself. you were a big girl with an even bigger gun - anything in its right mind would fear you.

still, that didn’t stop him pacing anxiously while he and sam waited for you to finish the hunt. it was one of the more simple hunts they’d had in a while; a witch was luring men to a house deep in the woods where they’d be put under a spell the second they stepped foot inside.

dean would honestly rather have been completely pliant under the witches thumb than let you go in alone, but you and sam were adamant.

waiting for you felt like a lifetime, and he’d lost count of how many times he’d heard sam tell him to “just sit down” but he couldn’t, not while his girl was in there alone. even sam was beginning to get a little antsy before you finally emerged.

you were panting, covered in blood splatters (dean hoped none of it was yours) and sweat.

to dean, you’d never looked hotter.

he was so entranced by you that he almost missed you recapping your fight to sam, instead watching you effortlessly clean off your blade and gun and feeling his jeans get a little tighter.

“dean,” you said, clicking in front of his face, “you good?”

he smirked. “yeah, sweetheart. i’m good.”

“you’re disgusting,” sam mumbled almost immediately, heading off to the impala.

dean looked you up and down and you raised an eyebrow. “what about me looking this gross turns you on? i’m covered in some random witches blood, my own blood, and dirt and god knows what else-” you started, but dean took a few steps towards you and your words died in your throat.

“sweetheart,” he drawled, the southern twang in his voice heavy, “you always - always - look hotter than hell. and trust me, i’ve been there.”

he moved closer, one hand hovering at your waist. “may i?” he asked, his voice low and thick.

“please,” you all but whined in return, not trusting yourself to speak more.

dean’s hand landed on your waist, and your body lit on fire. he moved impossibly closer, your lips meeting his in the middle as electricity exploded between you.

kissing dean was like nothing you’d ever felt before. his lips were soft, softer than you’d thought (and you’d definitely thought about them before). he was gentle at first, but as you deepened the kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth, he grew more passionate, rougher, almost like he couldn’t control himself, fighting you for dominance.

he pushed you against the side of the house, body flush against yours. one of his hands was still stuck to your waist while the other roamed your body, mapping out your hips, your ass, your waist in his mind.

you moaned as he tried desperately to get closer to you, deepening the kiss even more. you could feel everything - his chest, his abs, the bulge in his jeans (that made you smile into the kiss - you knew the effect you had on him, but feeling it was something else). you ran your hands up his stomach, feeling up his chest before they eventually settled at the nape of his neck. you tugged at his hair a little, eliciting a groan from the man in front of you.

“fuck, y’can’t do that to me, darlin’,” he said, breaking the kiss.

to him, you looked stunning. your pupils were blown out, lips swollen, and face flushed.

from your point of view, things didn’t look much different. dean looked positively angelic, eyes half lidded and focused only on you, hair a mess, panting hard.

you were about to lean in again, chasing more of the passion, the electricity that flowed between the two of you, when dean’s phone rang. he groaned, checking the id.

“sam,” he supplied, briefly flashing you his phone screen.

“we should head back,” you said, still breathless.

“let’s continue this later then, sweetheart.”

you made your way to the impala where sam was waiting, an impatient yet knowing look on his face. you climbed into baby, not saying a word.

sam didn’t see you on the ride back, adjusting your jeans and sitting with your legs crossed the whole time.

dean, however, did. his thoughts were already drifting to getting a second motel room before, but now it was first on his to-do list when you got back.

#vee’s fics ⚝#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fluff #dean x reader #supernatural x reader #supernatural fluff #supernatural smut #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester

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harmonyrae · 2 days ago

Text

Let You Make Me Juno

Synopsis: There’s a song you just can’t get out of your head. You just wanted to dance and sing along every time it came on. Which is exactly what you do and the boys have a very intense reaction to some of the lyrics.

AN: I hadn’t heard Juno by Sabrina Carpenter in its entirety until literally yesterday and I’ve been on a writing kick so… This happened. Smile. ENJOY!

Content Warnings: Heavy on the innuendos, also heavy on the implied activities, fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, breeding kink (if you squint), the boys are shook & horny, 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 3.1k

Whatever report Zayne is working on must be a hefty one, he’s been consistently typing for nearly an hour. You circle behind him and top off his coffee. He doesn’t look up, but hums as you pour - a silent thank you. You head back into the kitchen and continue making breakfast.

It was rare that Zayne didn’t have to head to work early and the Association had given all Hunters a long weekend to celebrate the previous month. Only two injuries and no major incidents. You had both slept in and you were making pancakes. Usually Zayne would lecture you about “making sure you got protein and complex carbs” to start your day, but you promised to make chocolate chip pancakes and he stopped arguing. His sweet tooth won over in the end.

You continue mixing the batter, swaying your hips to your playlist. Your “feel good” playlist, it always made you want to dance. You hum along while you wait for the pan to heat up. That’s when you hear the beginning notes of the song you’re obsessed with.

“Zayne! Can you turn the music up?”

You look over your shoulder to see him nod, never taking his eyes off the screen. The music swells through the bluetooth speakers and you start bouncing in excitement. You immediately start singing along.

Don't have to tell your hot ass a thing Oh yeah, you just get it

Finally, Zayne peels his eyes away from his report. He didn’t get a chance to write up the surgery debrief after getting home last night. He intended to stay up to finish it, but when he got home you were dressed in the black nightgown that drove him crazy. He spent his night doing something equally as important, but now he was rushing to get it completed. But when you started singing, he immediately took notice.

You usually didn’t sing out loud, preferring to hum along. And the way you bounced back and forth, your hips swaying seductively, was very distracting. You wore your satin sleep shorts and his dress shirt buttoned halfway, just a hint of your delicious cleavage peeking over the collar. Zayne straightens his back and tries to refocus.

Whole package, babe, I like the way you fit God bless your dad's genetics, mm, uh

He blinks rapidly before taking his glasses off to rub his eyes. He turns to look at you fully. Watching you dance and stir the pancake batter. You turn to look over at him, not expecting to see him looking at you. You see the tips of his ears have turned red and you giggle, continuing your dance while maintaining eye contact with him.

You make me wanna make you fall in love Oh, late at night, I'm thinkin' 'bout you, ah, ah-ah Wanna try on my fuzzy pink handcuffs?

Zayne’s eyes widen and you can’t help but let out a loud laugh. The blush spread across his cheeks and down his neck. You set down the bowl and approach him, singing and dancing along the way.

I know you want my touch for life If you love me right, then who knows? I might let you make me Juno

He finally stands, placing his hands on your hips. He doesn’t stop you from dancing, just holds you and feels you sway. You spot a smile creeping onto his face. You reach up and hold onto his shoulders. He leans down and starts placing open mouth kisses to the exposed skin of your chest. You close your eyes and feel his warm breath on your ear as he whispers.

“Isn’t ‘Juno’ that movie we watched a few weeks ago?”

You hum in agreement and Zayne doesn’t hesitate to pick you up, moving your legs to wrap around him. He squeezes your ass before he trails a hand under the back of your shirt. You shiver at his touch and cling to him. He turns and walks into the kitchen to turn off the stove.

“Don’t you want pancakes?”

Zayne smiles and his eyes sparkle with something you rarely see when you’re with him.

“Oh, I’m still having cake for breakfast.”

How did you get roped into this? Tara is so damn persuasive. Or maybe you’ve had a few too many drinks? The little umbrellas make them seem so harmless though…

Xavier had tried to intercept and make sure you didn’t feel forced. But after Tara whispered what song she had picked for karaoke you were completely on board. Plus, you didn’t wear your favorite dress and heels for nothing.

The fitted baby blue dress hugged your curves, but the tiered ruffles on the skirt made you feel like a ballerina when you twirled. The square neckline flattering your defined collarbone, while hiding a hickey on your shoulder. You tapped your sparkly heels along with your favorite song. Tara and you harmonized seamlessly.

Let you lock me down tonight One of me is cute, but two, though? Give it to me, baby You make me wanna make you fall in love

Xavier had been checked out for most of the night, he was just happy to spend time with you. And the other hunters he worked with - since this was a Hunter’s Appreciation party. But getting to watch you dress up and hold you close while dancing in the dimly lit club, yeah, that made the socializing worth it.

His brain had finally registered the lyrics and he almost choked on his drink. He coughed quietly and looked up at you. Your cheeks flushed from the alcohol, your tits bouncing while you dance with Tara. He tries to keep his eyes locked on yours, but his eyes can’t help but wander. Two? Imagining a miniature version of you made Xavier’s heart pound against his ribcage.

I showed my friends, then we high-fived Sorry if you feel objectified

Xavier’s eyes widened and he nearly dropped his drink. He sets it down on the bar with a shaky hand. He tilts his head at you, as if asking what exactly did you show. He shook his head, surely not. It was just a song. But then again, you could “show” and he knew that.

Xavier never asked you to send him nudes, but you were so easily turned on by him you spent weeks trying to figure out a way to level the playing field. Sure enough, sending him a picture from the shower did the trick. Of course, he matched your energy and offered to send his own. Which you didn’t reject. He definitely didn’t hold back after that. You’d send pictures and videos back and forth regularly. You could absolutely show Tara and you had zero doubts she would, indeed, high-five you.

Can't help myself, hormones are high Give me more than just some butterflies

You surprised yourself with how well you hit each note, your confidence growing. Your slightly hooded eyes stay locked on Xavier the whole song. You could feel the tension in the room grow. The hunger in Xavier’s eyes was evident. You watched as he slowly made his way to the side of the stage where you eventually climbed down.

Jeremiah was standing next to him, his cheeks flushed. Tara begged Xavier to invite him and after the performance - both you and Xavier finally figured out why. She launched herself into his arms, giggling. His whispered praises were almost lost in the club's noise. Xavier grabbed your waist and pulled you to him immediately. He leaned over to Jeremiah and whispered something before pulling you towards the exit.

“Xavier! What about –”

“They’ll get a cab, we’re leaving.”

His tone was firm and his expression calm. You were almost concerned he was angry with you. Once outside, you expected to stop at the edge of the sidewalk to hail a cab, but Xavier took a sharp turn, heading into an alley behind the club.

“What are we –”

You couldn’t even finish speaking before Xavier’s lips captured yours. His hand reaches down to pull up your dress, his fingers swiftly pulling your panties aside to press against your clit. He presses you against the wall and his kiss turns frantic. You barely have a moment to moan, you breathe heavily, your hands wrapping around him and taking fistfuls of his sweater.

Right as your legs start to shake, he pulls back and presses his forehead against yours.

“I need to get you home for this conversation.”

You scrunch your nose and look at him, confused. He nips at your bottom lip pulling another breathy moan from you.

“You are definitely cute, but two? That’d be exquisite.”

“No no no, higher!”

You pointed at the couch, urging Rafayel to get in the right spot to start recording. He huffed and crossed his arms.

“What about my artistic vision? Just because it’s a TikTok doesn’t mean it should look like shit. Let me work my magic!”

You put your hands on your hips and let him adjust the brightness of the overhead lights and try out different angles. You smile, knowing exactly what you’re up to. He’ll feel silly in about 15 minutes.

You run a hand over your shorts and matching cropped hoodie, smoothing out the wrinkles from practicing. The pink color almost matches the blush on your cheeks - which was not just from practicing. You might be a bit nervous.

You tighten your ponytail and press your lips, nibbling the corner of your mouth as you tap your foot impatiently. Rafayel finally looks up at you and rolls his eyes.

“Sorry cutie, I know your best angles and it’ll be worth the wait.”

He finally climbs up on the couch and looks at you through your phone. His brows knit together. He’s just now realizing you were right about where he needed to stand. You giggle while he puffs out a breath, his dusty purple fringe fluttering upwards.

“Okay, are you ready?”

You nod enthusiastically before hopping over to your starting spot.

“So you know what to do, right?”

“Why are you asking me that? Of course I know! I’m not a boomer.”

You roll your eyes and grab your hairbrush, the best option you had for a makeshift microphone. You could have asked Rafayel to get you a real one but you didn’t want to ask him to put too much effort into this little video. A video you didn’t really plan on posting.

Rafayel holds up three fingers and counts down before pointing at you. You smile and sway your hips, lip syncing to your latest obsession.

You make me wanna make you fall in love Oh, late at night, I'm thinkin' 'bout you, ah, ah-ah Wanna try out some freaky positions?

You swiftly lie down on your stomach and bend your knees, pulling your ankles up as close to your head as possible. You reach back and lock your fingers behind your ankles. You look at the camera and smile with a flush.

Have you ever tried this one?

Rafayel almost drops your phone. He ends the recording and stares at you. His ears turned bright red and his eyes darken, turning an even deeper shade of purple.

“I didn’t realize you were doing this trend…”

You roll over and cross your legs in front of you, resting your hands on your knees. You raise a brow and glare at him.

“How many videos of this trend have you watched, Rafayel?”

His eyes widen and he coughs, straightening his back before hopping off the couch in one swift motion. He crosses his arms and looks down at you, his mouth settled into that adorably irritating pout.

“I just know of the trend, not -- I don’t watch them like –”

You interrupt him, your voice a tad more raspy than you intended.

“Do you think the position isn’t worth it?”

The blush travels across his cheeks and he twists his nose, trying his best to look upset.

“That’s not what I said.”

“Cause I have a few I could try. You know… for the video.”

Rafayel’s eyes narrow and his eyes drop to your exposed midriff and bare legs. He clears his throat and drops his hands to his hips before turning to walk away. You exhale sharply - he’s being dense. Time to be more direct.

“Like this one?”

He turns his head and watches you shift to face him. You lie back and kick your legs up. Your shoulders remain planted on the floor while your midsection is straight up, your hands planted on your back, your elbows braced against the floor to hold you up. Your legs tip over and your toes touch the floor. You keep your legs straight and spread them as wide as you are comfortable. Your shorts sink into your ass, the curve and shape now on full display.

You hear a sharp intake of breath and a shuffling of feet. You try to lower to the ground once more, but feel his hands on the backs of your thighs. When you look up you see Rafayel lean over to look down at you.

“Did you really do this trend for the trend, or did you have other intentions?”

You smile up at him, your smug expression clear as day. He runs his hands over your ass and places his hands at either side of your nearly exposed pussy. You gasp quietly.

“Yeah, you’re not uploading that video, but we are definitely trying these positions.”

He runs his thumbs across your center. You know he can feel how wet you are, doing those positions in front of him - positions you’ve desperately wanted to try with him - really got you going. He grinds against you, his cock digging into your ass, pulling a moan from you.

“Right fucking now.”

You didn’t even hear the front door to your apartment open, your music was turned up way too loud. And you were enjoying the mini concert you were putting on in the bathroom.

You held the curling iron loosely and rocked your hips side to side. You could never stop yourself from dancing and singing along to this song. You were so excited when Tara told you she got tickets for Sabrina’s concert next month. You were listening to all of her albums on repeat to prepare.

But tonight, you were going out with Sylus for a very special occasion - your one year anniversary. Well, it’s been over a year since you met him, but you both agreed not to celebrate when you actually met because it wasn’t exactly the best memory.

Sylus gave you his black card to get pampered all day while he worked and you made the most of it. Getting your nails done, a facial, shopping and basically a full body wax. You spent extra time on your makeup since you had a few new products to try out. Your new red lipstick compliments your skin tone perfectly, its staying power would be tested later.

The dress you picked was relatively simple, but god, did you feel sexy. The black bodice was fitted, hitting mid-thigh. The chest was very structured and pushed your girls up, giving the illusion of more cleavage than you actually had. Your favorite part though, were the sleeves. Black lace from shoulder to fingertip, the bell sleeves almost completely covering your hands. You paired the dress with new red pumps, which were still in the box on your bed.

Your hair was actually curling nicely and wasn’t falling flat immediately, so you felt on top of the world. You danced and sang at the top of your lungs.

You had no idea, Sylus had already let himself into your apartment. A bouquet of red roses in his hand and a mechanical crow with glowing yellow eyes sitting on his shoulder. Sylus couldn’t wait to introduce you to Lilith. He had built her himself specifically for you. He knew it would only mean you’d send her to spy on him like he had Mephisto spy on you, but he could tell how much you started to love seeing his little metal companion.

He heard the music immediately when he walked in. He closed the door quietly and dropped his suit jacket on the arm of the couch. He pointed to his jacket and Lilith flew over, settling on the fabric. He put the flowers on the coffee table and silently made his way to the door of your bathroom. A smile breaking out across his face as he realized you were singing.

Adore me, hold me, and explore me Mark your territory Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one

His heart skipped a beat. Not only was your voice hypnotizing, but the lyrics… He had heard this song before, but couldn’t remember where. Probably on one of your drives with him, he tended to give you control of the music while he drove. It meant you were more likely to sing. He leaned against the doorframe just out of view. He could see you in the mirror, swaying your hips while you wrapped a strand of hair around the curling iron.

Adore me, hold me, and explore me I'm so fuckin' horny Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one

And that’s when Sylus’s willpower broke. He pushed the bathroom door open, still leaning against the door frame. He racked his eyes down your body, taking in your new dress.

“Sylus! Oh my god, you fucking scared me! When did you get here?”

Sylus lifted his gaze to meet yours. He smirked before reaching up to grab the door frame above him. He looked so much taller like this, staring at you with those eyes.

“I was just enjoying the show, kitten.”

You put down the curling iron and turned it off. You fluffed your hair, letting the curls fall into loose waves. You tried not to stare at Sylus in the mirror. The top buttons of his shirt were undone and you could see his chest rising and falling faster and faster.

“I like the song. I am curious though… When you sing along, do you think of anyone?”

Your cheeks flush and you stare at him. You bite your lip as you smile. He lets go of the doorframe and pushes off to walk towards you. His hands wrap around your waist and he pulls you close. Your back flush against his chest, you could feel his erection press against your ass.

“You know the answer to that question, Sy…”

He smiled and leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

“Well, I’d say I’ve completed adoring and holding you, that just leaves exploring.”

“Sylus! We –”

He spins you around and grabs your waist. He leans down to kiss your neck, before dipping down to bite at the fullness of your chest. You arch your back and let your head fall back as you groan. Your hands reach out to hold onto his waist, while his wrap around to grab your ass.

“But you’re so fuckin' horny, sweetie. And I live to serve my one and only.”

Tag List (comment if you wanna be added!): @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human @kitsunetori @babyx91 @libriomancer @lilyadora @crowskitten22

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wonderjanga · 1 day ago

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Ms. Kent and Billy

it’s 1959 and it’s been a year ever since Billy got his powers. Life is good and he found out about a pie eating contest happening in some little town in Kansas called Smallville. If you were to win, you’d get a whole $100.

Billy: “A hundred whole dollars… I could get food for weeks- no, months with that!”

Martha(Ma Kent): *appeared behind him* “Are you gonna participate in the contest?”

Billy: *startles* “Uh… Yes?”

Martha: “Aren’t you a little skinny for that?”

Billy: “Wha- I’m not skinny! I don’t think I’m too skinny at least.”

Martha: *looks him up and down wondering if he’d let her cook a bunch of food for him* “Sure. Hey, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before. Are you new to Smallville?”

Billy: “Yes. This is my first time here actually.”

Martha: “Oh? So you’re just here for the pie contest?”

Billy: “Yup. I’m gonna eat as much pie as I can, and then I’m gonna get the money.”

Martha: “Will you tell me if they’re good?”

Billy: “Sure? Why?”

Martha: “Cause me and my mom made all the pies for the competition!”

Billy: “Oh, that’s amazing!” *looks starstruck*

Martha: *sounds proud* “I know.”

Billy didn’t end up winning the competition. He actually ended up vomiting after his first pie because his little malnourished self couldn’t handle all of that. Martha was there though to clean him up with a rag. They got to know each other better after that and soon enough, Billy would transform into Marvel, fly over to Smallville, and hang out with her. Martha even got to know Freddy because he would sometimes fly over with Billy too. Then the time bubble happened and fast forward 50 years. Billy, after panicking about his entire life and everything he knows it being over, went to go see Martha, who was conveniently still near Smallville.

Billy: *knocks on the door*

Martha: “Coming!” *opens the door and looks around seeing no one*

Billy: “Down here.”

Martha: *looks down to Billy and pauses to stare*

Billy: “Heeeeeeeey Martha.” *awkward wave*

Martha continued to stare at him for a solid minute before she rubbed her eyes, and then rubbed them again for good measure.

Martha: “Billy…?”

Billy: “Martha…?”

Martha: “Oh- my… Oh my Gosh!” *kneels down so she can look him over even going as far as to pinch his little cheeks to make sure he’s real*

Billy: “Ow! Martha, stop!” *bats away her hands*

Martha: *keeps trying to pinch him aways* “Are you real?”

Billy: “Yes?”

Martha: *has seen too much nonsense due to Clark* “Well, if you’re the real Billy uhm… Where did we first meet?”

Billy: “A pie eating contest here?”

Martha: “Hmm… That might be too easy… What pies did I make for the contest?”

Billy: “Wha- I don’t know!? How am I supposed to remember that??”

Martha: “Okay… Too hard. How about you tell me something only you would’ve known about a fourteen year old me.”

Billy: “Like what?”

Martha: “Like something secret I told you.”

Billy: “Uhm… You had a crush on Elvis and said you wanted your future husband to be just like him?”

Martha: *stares before feeling herself cringe at her teenage self* “Okay, I’ll assume you’re the real Billy. Come in, bud.”

They caught up after that. They even decided to make pies together again. It was fun. You would just see them in the kitchen together talking about whatever, normally old lady stuff, and baking. Then, when Grandpa Kent came home…

Jonathan(Pa Kent): “Martha, I’m home!” *walks to the kitchen and pauses when he sees Billy and Martha*

Martha and Billy: *stare back at him*

Jonathan: “Martha is that an another grandbaby, clone, or cousin of Clark’s?”

Martha: “None of those. This is Billy. He’s a friend of mine.”

Jonathan: “Martha, you’re just befriending eight-year-olds now? Where are his parents?”

Billy: “They’re dead, mister! But don’t worry, me and Martha met back in ‘59. We go way back.”

Jonathan: *stares for a solid minute* “Wait a darn moment… were you caught up in all that Fawcett business?” *heard about it on the news*

Billy: “Yup!”

Martha: “What Fawcett business?”

That’s how Billy was led to explain the entirety of the time bubble and suspendium and all that. The Kents thankfully welcomed him with open arms. After this entire incident, Billy showing up to the farm was a regular occurrence. He could bake with Martha and help Mr. Jonathan out as much as he could on the farm. Then, one of the Kents other grandchildren showed up. (Billy was basically their grandbaby too, not that the Batson knew)

Jonathan: *trying to fix their tractor because it broke down for whatever reason*

Billy: *standing to the side, holding a toolbox and giving him tools whenever he asks*

Jon: *flies over from Metropolis* “Grandpa! Grandpa-” *does a double take when he sees Billy* “Wait, who’re you?”

Billy: “I’m Billy!”

Jonathan: “You heard him Jon. He’s Billy.”

Jon: *suddenly self-conscious of the fact that he’s flying in front of this kid and kinda just revealed his identity* “I’m uh… Jon.” *slowly floats down to land on the ground*

Billy and Jon: *stare at each other*

Jonathan: “Billy, can you pass me the diamond tip screwdriver?”

Billy: “Sure!” *passes it to him*

Yeah… Jon was a little confused as to who this random kid was. He was also a little confused as to why he refers to Jon’s grandpa has Mr. Jonathan but refers to Jon’s grandma as Martha. Did he live with grandma and grandpa? Is he another one of his dad’s cousins? Jon doesn’t think the boy’s a kryptonian but he might be wrong. Anyways, he’s making everything weird! Though it’s a sort of good kind of weird? His grandma is acting… younger? They also keep referencing things Jon has no idea about. (Late 50s pop culture) The kid- Billy, seems nice enough though. He has no problems playing with Jon so that’s awesome! Jon is so happy to have a friend away from home, but he’s still confused as to why Billy is at the farm.

Jon: “Dad, why do some people live on farms?”

Supes: “Because they’re farmers…?”

Jon: “No, but like what if they aren’t farmers, and they just help the farmers that are already there? Like one day they just showed up and decided to help around.”

Supes: “Well, I guess the closest thing you’re looking for would be a farmhand. Why are you asking?”

Jon: “Well, there’s this kid that lives with grandma and grandpa now-”

Supes: “WHAT?!”

Yeah, neither Ma Kent or Pa Kent have told Clark about this. It kind of slipped their minds.

Bonus interactions:

Before Pa Kent Came Home…

Billy: “Who’s that?” *looking at a photo of Pa and Ma Kent together*

Martha: “My husband.”

Billy: “Husband…?” *suddenly sad he missed a bunch of stuff from Martha’s life* “Oh…”

Martha: You sound upset. What’s wrong?

Billy: “Nothing.”

Twenty Years Ago When Clark Was Still a Kid…

Supes: Ma, who’s that? *looking at a photo of a nine year old Billy and a fourteen year old Martha*

Martha: “Oh, that’s Billy and I.”

Supes: “Who’s Billy?”

Martha: “An old friend of mine. He uhm… disappeared one day. I don’t know what happened to him.”

#billy batson #shazam #dc captain marvel #captain marvel dc #fawcett city #fawcett #fawcett comics #jon el #jonathan kent #martha kent #ma kent #pa kent #clark kent

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ribbonskiss · 2 days ago

Text

THE LEANOVER -> OP81

Part 1 of 2. Read Part 2 here.

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader

Summary: You come home on uni break to find your brother’s best friend, Oscar, is visiting. You both fall back into old habits, but some things are not the same.

Tags: brother’s best friend, friends to lovers, slow burn? kinda?, fluff, suggestive content (18+), very gentle reading tbh

A/N: Here it is finally, the highly requested full length version of the drabble I posted. Sadly I’ve reached my limit of dividers for this one and have to split it into two parts :( Very funny that it took off so much because it was honestly just a warm up for writing 😭 Anyway, I hope it was worth the wait, enjoy <3

“You’ve gotten soft, kiddo.”

He leans against the doorframe, that same mischievous smile on his face as he watches you do the dishes.

“Well,” you say, rinsing a cup over the running faucet, “Some of us have to.”

Oscar quirks up an eyebrow, arms folding over his chest. “Really? Fascinating. I had no idea.”

“And some things never change, I see,” you chuckle.

It’s December, and you’re home for the first time since moving away for university. It’s been an eventful year, one that’s brought about many successes, mistakes and surprises. Your mother marvels at how much you’ve grown; you’ve ditched the old frumpy haircut, started slouching less and finally found the perfect shade of lipstick. Your father is just glad you’ve managed to achieve a pretty impressive grade average.

When Oscar arrived, he caused so much commotion you had to stumble down the stairs to see what all the fuss is about. His presence was a surprise, but a welcome one. He was always your mum’s favourite—you remember the day he set off two years ago to pursue Formula One full-time. She cried as if he was her own kid. (Your brother stayed in Melbourne, so it’s dubious whether or not she would’ve cried harder if he moved away. For what it’s worth, when you went off to ANU yourself, she cried about the same amount.) Always a charmer, he came bearing big bags of gifts for everyone, and your family gathered around him like bees to honey.

He pulled your brother in for a hug. They’re too close to just settle for a dap-up after another year apart. “Looking good, mate,” your brother chuckled. “Look at this guy. Dapper, eh?”

“Says you, man, look at yourself,” Oscar laughed, throwing his head back in delight before patting him roughly on the back. “Fucking hell, you finally filled your beard in.”

From a distance, you smiled, watching as they started to roughhouse, laughing as they wrestled and wrung one another. Eventually your brother released him from his headlock, throwing him out of his grip, and Oscar ruffled his hair back into place before turning and spotting you, standing at the staircase.

He smiled at you fondly. You’d forgotten how nice it feels to be the recipient of it. He’d forgotten how he can recognise what every expression you make means.

You’ve grown a lot. Maybe not physically, but definitely mentally. He never had a problem with you before, far from it, but he likes this new you a lot—more graceful, tactful, a skilled conversationalist eager to help out whenever. Not to mention he didn’t even realise you could grow even more beautiful. Well, you’ve managed it somehow.

Now dinner is over and he’s still standing there, watching as you shut the dishwasher close. “Just can’t be fucked,” you sigh with relief. “Too many fuckin’ dishes.”

He comes closer, ruffles your hair with a hand while the other wraps around your waist, pulling you to him. The action is familiar, but the feeling that arises in you from it is not. “Well, you used to just not do them at all, so,” he reminds you. “This is a big improvement, Tiny.”

You flush. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

“I remember everything,” Oscar smiles at you. “Why would I forget anything?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “it’s normal to forget the little things.”

But his smile never falters. “They’re not little to me.”

“Well fuck, you’ve put me in a difficult position.”

The two boys you’ve known your whole life stand in front of you in the living room, where you’re sitting on the couch, legs sprawled over its full length, reading your book. Your brother sighs. “I just wish you’d told me beforehand, like, I know you wanted it to be a surprise but,” he continues. “If you told me you were coming, I wouldn’t have booked the trip—”

Oscar shakes his head. “Nah, don’t sweat it, come on,” he says. “It’s fine. Either way I’m back home, I can catch up with some guys from school, and your folks are lovely to me.”

Your brother starts up again, but Oscar puts his hands up. “Mate, really, it’s fine. I’ll be right on my own.”

“Say swear?”

“On my life,” he nods. “You just enjoy Bali with your missus.”

Your brother looks at him for a moment, shakes his head and smiles. He nudges him on the shoulder. “Don’t let her do anything stupid.”

“What, that little thing?” Oscar smiles, turning to look over where you sit on the couch. “She’ll be right. I got her.”

They talk for a little longer before one of them bids the other goodnight, retreating into his room. Oscar stays, looks at you for a moment as you pretend to not notice, eyes scanning over the pages of your book like your life depends on not looking back at him. He runs his fingers through his hair, lets out a breath before he comes closer.

“Looks like it’ll just be you and me this holiday season, Tiny.” No one calls you that except Oscar. He stands in front of you, towering over your sitting figure. You can’t find the bravery to look up at him, but you just know he’s smiling again.

You flip to the next page. “Where’s your family?”

“Off to the Alps,” he shrugs. “But I’ve just been last year with a few guys.”

“How convenient,” you comment, earning a chuckle from him. Oscar nods his head, smiling still, unashamed.

“Very convenient.”

“Good morning, sleepy.”

You stand in the kitchen, rubbing your eyes with the sleeves of your jumper where the counter is. He brushes past you to the coffee machine, and you feel his warmth close by for a split second. “Don’t do that,” he tuts at you, chuckling at your sleepy state. “It’s bad for your eyes.”

“Is he awake yet?” you ask, and your voice is still hushed, soft from slumber.

“No,” he says. “But I’m making coffee anyway. He’s a bit of a cunt in the morning.”

You suddenly remember that he’s sleeping on the spare mattress, very inelegantly smack dab in the middle of the floor in your brother’s room. You can’t help but snicker. “You know him too well. You’re like an old married couple,” you tease him. “Aren’t you too old to be doing sleepovers still?”

“Aren’t you too old to be reading your porny little novels on a Friday evening?” he retorts. You feel yourself flush almost immediately, the blood rushing to your cheeks as embarrassment overwhelms you, knowing you’ve been caught. Oscar glances over at you from where he stands, pouring out cold milk while the espresso shots continue to drip into his mug, and he chuckles.

“I’m right, no?” he continues. “You’re all grown up now, Tiny. My question is, why stay in? Why read about fucking a soccer player when you could just, you know, actually do it?”

You glare at him, but the sight of him this early in the morning with his soft sleepy smile and tousled bedhead hair makes you falter a little. “That’s not even a book I own.”

“I know that,” Oscar nods, holding the little pitcher to the steam wand, gently frothing the cold milk inside. “But I have seen one on your desk. Think it was about another sport, actually.”

Then the frothing stops, and he pours the milk foam into the mug slowly, carefully. He snickers. “It was about racing, wasn’t it?”

Your cheeks grow hot, hotter than you thought was possible, and your eyes drop immediately to the ground at his words. It amuses him to no end. He hands you the mug; it’s a latte, with a cute little heart on top of it. Now he’s just being cruel.

You take a sip of the searing hot coffee immediately just to avoid having to speak about this topic any further. “This tastes like shit.”

He crosses his arms over his chest and grins. “You’re welcome, love.”

“Can you even speak to me this way?”

“What way?” Oscar says, cocking up an eyebrow again. “You’re a big girl now. What, you can read about sex but you can’t talk about it—”

“Keep your voice down,” you whisper-yell, shushing him in a panicked tone, but he can barely take you seriously, chest rumbling with soft laughter.

“Alright,” he nods. “If it’ll please you, Tiny, I’ll do it.”

Then he leaves the kitchen, retreats into your brother’s room and starts yelling at him to wake up. You’re left on your own to figure out why he put so much emphasis on the word please.

“You’re leaving?”

Alright, now it’s getting fucking ridiculous. You’re sat in the back of your dad’s car after sending your brother and his girlfriend off to the airport, absolutely flabbergasted by what your parents have just said.

“You’re leaving me alone for two weeks,” you continue. “Since when? How long has this been in the works? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“God, no, it’s not like that,” your mum sighs, turning to you from where she sits in the passenger’s seat. “They invited us to their beach house in the Central Coast a month ago. We said no because we knew you were coming but, with Oscar here now… Why not?”

“We just thought it would be nice to have some time to ourselves,” your father continues, eyes still on the road. “With our friends. And you’re on break for ages! We’ll only be gone for two weeks.”

“You’re an adult now,” your mother smiles hesitantly. “And with Oscar… Well, I honestly trust him more than your own brother to take good care of you.”

Oscar is touched, but you’re less than satisfied by all this still. “I’m sorry, honey,” your mum starts again, but you shake your head.

“No, no, I get it, it’s fine,” you say, waving off her concerns. “I just wish I had a heads up, but I get it.”

Looking out the window now, you feel Oscar place a comforting hand on your shoulder, his touch soft and warm, wordlessly assuring you things will be okay. He means well, but it worsens your worries. Your stomach feels strange. Now you can’t escape how you feel.

You look out the window, waiting for the bread slices in the toaster to pop out. In the back garden, Oscar is dutifully watering the plants blooming around the wooden benches and table where your parents like to host barbecues. (It’s one of the many tasks listed in the list of chores your mum left the two of you.) He takes careful steps, acutely aware of the blossoming flowers near his feet, and slips his gloves off where the shelf with all the necessary gear is.

He calls out to you, nudging the watering can with his foot to where it should be. “Smells good in there.”

“Almost done now,” you call out back to him, turning back to the kitchen counter where two dishes are lined with omelettes and chorizo sausages. When the slices pop out, you smear smashed avocado all over one side of them. When he finally comes through the back door, you’re finishing the already-salted avocado toast off by grinding up some pepper. Oscar stands behind you, watching as you do it.

“Looks amazing, too,” he chuckles. “Or maybe I’m just real hungry.”

“I think you’re just real hungry,” you say. “What took you so long?”

He shrugs, taking both plates from the counter to the dinner table. “Your dad’s tool shelf is weird as fuck.”

You don’t question it; he’s probably right, your dad is weird as fuck in general, so you just take knives and forks to the table. “Dig in,” you tell him, placing a fork down where he’s sat. He turns his head to look up at you, smiling.

“Thank you,” he says, softly, and Oscar’s looking at you with genuine delight. You turn away. Your chest is tightening. You go to sit where he’s put the other dish, and he watches as you take a small bite of your toast.

“So,” he starts up again. “They’re all gone. It’s just the two of us. Should we throw a rager?”

You chuckle at his words, and he beams, eager to make you laugh. “Yeah,” he nods, smiling gently again. “Wasn’t feeling like it either.”

“We don’t really have to do anything today,” you say, chewing on your food. “We’ve still got a whole two weeks ahead of us.”

“That’s true,” Oscar hums. “Well…”

You look up from your plate, giving him a curious look. “Well?”

“Well,” he continues, “I just haven’t had a chance to say—well, I’ve just wanted to say… It’s nice to see you again. You’ve grown a lot. You look good. Really good.”

You must be bright brick red in the face now. “Thank you,” you mumble back, and when you both finish your food he helps you load the dishes into the dishwasher before vacuuming the living room, ticking off another thing on the list.

“Tiny, I’m sure you look amazing,” he says from the other side of the door. “Can you please come out now?”

You look at yourself in the mirror, huffing. “No.”

Oscar frowns to himself. “Well, can I at least come in?”

“No!” you exclaim, the thought of him seeing all the clothes tossed onto your bed embarrassing you too much to even consider opening the door.

“You’re not naked in there, are you—”

“Oh my god, Osc, no.”

“We’ll miss the whole thing at this point, we’re late as is,” he tries to reason with you. “Please, Tiny, I could help you.”

“Yeah, because you’re so fashionable. I can’t just throw a linen shirt and beige shorts on like you do.”

You hear him snicker from outside. “Mee-ow. Touché.”

Sighing, you come closer to your door. “Just,” you say. “Don’t be cruel, okay?”

Oscar leans his head against the door. “Of course,” he mutters quickly. “I mean, obviously. Yeah.”

With another big huff, you unlock the door, and his eyes widen at the sight of you in a dress, soft blush pink silk hugging to your curves all the way down to your ankles. The thin straps leave little to the imagination, your collarbones and shoulders exposed to the sunlight filtering through your curtains. Oscar wonders how soft your skin must be, supple arms smoothing over your waist.

“I don’t know if I feel good in this,” you say, and his eyes dart back to your face, wincing in worry. “I don’t know if I necessarily have the body—”

“You look fantastic.”

You turn around to face him. He’s standing behind you, a little flushed as his eyes rake over your figure again. “You look great, I mean,” Oscar says. “Just… bring a cardigan.”

You chuckle. “It’s the middle of summer—”

“It could get cold at night.”

There’s a bite in his voice that makes you shiver, especially as you turn back around to face your mirror and he comes closer, towering over you.

“Who knows how long we’ll be out for.”

The Christmas market stays open until late. It doesn’t get dark by the evening hours in the summer, so you never slip on the cardigan. Instead, Oscar insists on having his arm around your shoulders the entire time, leading to more than one stall owner mistaking you for a couple. The commotion makes you blush every time.

“What are you so embarrassed about?” he chuckles. The two of you meander through the paths of the market, barely taking note of any of the stalls at this point. “People used to mistake us for a couple all the time in school.”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Nuh uh,” you retort. “They thought we were siblings.”

Oscar gags. “What? Christ, no.”

“Exactly,” you chuckle. “Or they thought we were cousins.”

He looks at you, cocks his head to the side curiously. “Well, what’d you tell them?”

You shrug honestly. “I don’t know. I told them you’re my Oscar,” you say, and your answer makes him laugh softly.

“And what exactly does that mean?” He prods.

“Well, there’s no other way to put it.”

He furrows his eyebrows. “We’re not friends?”

Well, I hope not, you think. “You’re my brother’s friend,” you say. “And I think even he detests you sometimes.”

Now you’re approaching where the crowds are down the street. As you slip through the mass of people, the heat starts to rise even more in temperature, making his skin stick to yours in the humidity as he holds you close still.

“But we’re close,” you nod. “Not friends, not family. Just… My Oscar.”

He chuckles. “Your Oscar?”

“Ha-ha,” you roll your eyes, though the heat starts to get to your cheeks now. “Yes. My Oscar.”

Well, he likes the sound of that. It’s very intimate, he thinks. And he definitely likes that. “You know,” you continue as you finally escape the crowd, walking down the street and away from the market now. “They never stopped asking me.”

“Asking what?”

“About whether or not you were single,” you giggle.

Oscar sighs dramatically, halting to a stop as he shakes his head in great disappointment, making you laugh even harder. As the years went by, Oscar’s racing aspirations became more and more apparent to the student population, propelling him to celebrity status at school. It’s funny; the more lenient his schooling arrangements became, the less he showed up at school, and rumours started spreading, making him a sort of mythical figure that would drive girls wild whenever he did show up to class.

“You know I always fucking hated that,” he grumbles to you, eyes narrowing. “Fuckin’ hate how they treated you—I mean, you’re not my guard dog, you’re a human being.”

“It’s not that serious,” you snicker. “Schoolgirls are schoolgirls. You were a heartthrob, you know?”

Oscar lets out a hesitant chuckle. “Not by choice. I didn’t have time for girls,” he says, turning the corner towards the train station. “Well. Maybe just the one.”

“Oh?” you laugh. “How did I not know about this? Who was it?”

He smiles, turns to look at your curious face, and ruffles your hair like he always does. “The tiniest girl I’ve ever known.”

But you’re not that girl anymore. Later that night he knocks on your own door just before bedtime; you tell him to come in, and when he does, you’re standing in front of your mirror, clipping your hair back. In the sweltering heat of Australian December, your choice of pajamas is a camisole that wraps loosely around your bare chest, the shape of which is too apparent for him to not flush, and heather grey shorts that are dangerously short. It is now that Oscar realises that the tiny little girl he used to play wrestle with as a child really is, as he had told you before, all grown up now. When you turn around, smiling so sweetly and innocently and wishing him a good night’s sleep, he dryly swallows and silently nods, closing the door when you wave goodbye. If he didn’t leave right that minute he would’ve put his hands all over you, feeling that soft skin he’s been wondering about all day.

It’s not that that girl you were or the boy in him has vanished. But now you have both come to a situation where a certain passion shows its naked face, and that girl and that boy can now see the true spirit of the relationship they share, and it was there all along. Oscar sleeps scarcely that night, stirring in your brother’s bed in a cold sweat as his mind replays the images of your figure standing in front of your mirror, blissfully unaware of how gorgeous you have always been in his eyes. The ultimate standard of the perfect girl in his mind. What a pleasant affliction this is, a small price to pay for his heart to blossom.

He ignores the tent in his boxers and shuts his eyes. Your brother’s going to kill him.

Thoughts? Comments? Suggestions? Questions? Leave them all in my askbox, and sorry for any mistakes/typos!

#oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri fanfic

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