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heyimkana · 3 days ago

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Pillow Talk (3/4)

Read Part 1 | Read Part 2 | AO3 Link

Sequel to Come Home to Me but can be read separately.

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo X Female Reader

Genre: Marriage AU, fluff, smut

Summary: As the hours grow late, your kisses turn deeper, his touches grow more obscene, and by the end of it, his patience snaps and it's about time for you to start a new game.

Content Warnings: face-sitting, constant flirting, endless banter

Word Count: 8K

But… A filthy thought resurfaces, tugging on the corner of his lips. A little poke can’t hurt.

“Jinwoo?” You raise a brow, confused as to why your husband suddenly turns quiet. “Are you all right?”

He smiles saccharine sweet—a mask he uses to cover his devilish grin. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just had some… thoughts in my mind.”

“Thoughts? What thoughts?”

“About our baby,” he answers so effortlessly, leaving it impossible for you to discern through his lies. “I haven’t talked to them today. Would you mind if I say hi real quick?”

The sudden change in his actions confounds you. You really thought your little act of submission earlier was enough to snap the rope that held him together.

Sensing your hesitance, Jinwoo pushes a lock of stray strands behind your ear. “Will you lie down for me, Angel? Please?” His touch, his voice, his gaze—everything is so tender, it almost washes away all of your suspicions. Almost.

Huh… Your tongue prods your cheek. Guess he has more self-control than I thought. “Sure. They won’t be able to hear you now, though. Not until I’m in my second trimester, at least.”

“It’s all right. I just want to be close to my baby. Both of my babies,” he teases, a playful twinkle in his eyes as he obviously refers to you as the second, much needier one.

“Cheesy,” you mutter, showcasing a revolted look despite finding hilarity in it. Who thought the sixth national-level hunter, Sung Jinwoo, could act this way behind closed doors? Still, with your eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion, you comply and lift yourself off his lap. You swear you caught a slight hint of mischief fleeting across his face just now, but…

“What?” He blinks, feigning innocence. “Something wrong?”

“No.” Why won’t he just kiss me? Like, actually kiss me? This has been going on forever, hasn’t it?! You wonder, biting back the frustrated sigh before it tumbles off your lips.

The bed creaks slightly beneath you as you glue your spine to the sheets, watching the ceiling above you with a frown, still trying to figure out why your plan of luring him didn't work before. Have you lost your touch? Your sensuality? Perhaps you should’ve gone all out, just directly seduce him until he caves into his desire—to yours. But that would make you sound desperate, no?

Submerged in your own thoughts, you fail to notice the fiendish grin embellishing your husband’s face. “Don’t pout, Sweetheart,” he says, recapturing your attention. “I’ll be right back with you in a second.”

“I wasn’t pouting.”

“Sure you weren’t,” he playfully scoffs, his retort carrying a spark of deja vu.

Jinwoo starts his little game, traversing his way down your body, his smile, tinged with a hint of impishness, stays everlasting on his face. He leaves a trail of fireworks as he maps the valley between your breasts with his mouth, reaching every inch of skin that’s not covered by satin. “Your skin is so soft…” Though he aims to keep it innocent, his tongue peeks out from between thin, rosy lips, tasting your skin fleetingly as if his self-control slipped its leash for a moment.

He feels your body stiffening at the sensation. “Seems like someone’s a little sensitive tonight,” Jinwoo chuckles, pushing up your gown until it pools just below your breasts, leaving your stomach exposed for his breath to caress. “Kind of reminds me of the way you act during our wedding night. You were so cute, then.” His fingertips feel featherlight on your skin as both desire and adoration pervade his gaze. “Of course, you’re adorable now, too. You always are. But the way you squirmed underneath me that night… The way you gasped and moaned even from the slightest touch… Mmm,” he applies another slow, erotic, open-mouth kiss below your navel, his tongue swirling across the skin. “You were so, so fucking cute, baby.”

The stimulation zings through your entire body, almost robbing a yearning moan out of you. “S-shut up.” A bashful retort is all you can manage as you cast your face to the side, avoiding his gaze. Even the devil himself has never looked as sultry as he was before. “It’s just… It’s been a while.”

He loves it, loves the way you easily get flustered from his lines. “Since what, exactly?”

“You know what.”

“Sweetheart,” he laughs softly at your obliviousness. “I’m giving you a chance to talk dirty to me. Make use of it.”

“I—” you sputter, face aflame. “Y-you know I can’t. It’s embarrassing. Besides, you’re…” You turn mute, stopping a second too late.

“I’m much better at it than you are?” He continues your sentence with a smirk, the silky swirl of his tongue in the hollow of your navel sends fire licking through your veins. You make the mistake of looking down, catching the way his tongue darts out so obscenely to taste your skin. His eyes fixate on yours, as hazy as your own, filled with the carnality he tries to repress. Your stomach flutters in sensation, wanting more, so much more.

Noticing your stare, he makes a show of it, moaning softly against your skin as he bestows more wet, slow kisses on your lower abdomen, catching flesh between his teeth, and teasing it until a mark blooms. You chew on your lip, your fingers twisting against the sheets. God, I want your mouth on me, you almost plead out loud.

“You’re losing your words, Angel,” he reminds you with a puckish smile, snapping you out of your daze.

“I thought you were gonna speak to our baby,” you glower.

“I am going to. I just wanna play with the bigger baby for a bit before I go to the little one.”

“Get to it.”

His grin grows wider. “Why, afraid you’re gonna start begging if I continue?”

“Get. to. it.”

He chortles softly. Just how adorable can she be, he wonders as he stands on his knees before you. “Open your legs for me, Angel.” When you grow hesitant over his request, Jinwoo playfully rolls his eyes. “I won’t do anything, I promise. I just want to get comfortable. Besides” —he rests his hand on your thigh, teasing you by rubbing circular motions with his thumb—“It’s not like you haven’t spread your legs for me before.”

“God, you’re so—” You sigh in defeat. This is starting to get embarrassing. With a slight sulk on your face, you slowly part open your thighs, watching the way his smirk vanishes little by little as he takes in the view. The way you spread them so slowly as your embarrassment sinks in, the delicate lace of your lingerie, and how it sticks so perfectly to your heat like a second skin, they barely leave any room for his imagination to wander…

You clasp your thighs together again, squeezing them shut as your eyes turn into slits. “Focus,” you chastise him, despite being flustered yourself.

“I am.”

“I mean, on the baby!”

Your husband kisses your knee with an amused grin before he pries your legs apart and settles himself in between. “Right, the other baby,” he chuckles, making himself at home, his toned abdomen pressed flat against the bed as he strokes your stomach with a gentle hand.

As you are only in your seventh week of pregnancy, your belly hasn’t swollen much, the bump nearly nonexistent, especially when you lie down. If it weren’t for your never-ending fatigue and your morning sickness, perhaps you wouldn't have felt pregnant at all.

“Hey there, kiddo,” Jinwoo greets them with a tiny kiss on your skin. “It’s Daddy speaking.” He splays out his hand over your stomach, smiling tenderly at the small yet growing baby bump. “I heard you’ve been a little too rough on Mommy today. Wanna tell me what’s that all about?”

He pauses for a second, humming lightly every now and then as if he’s responding to what the baby is saying. “I see. So, you don’t like the food, huh? But, you see, baby, your mommy is trying her best to give you all the nutrients you need. We want you to grow all healthy and strong, so can we cooperate for a bit? For Mommy’s sake? She’s been very nice, you know.”

His fingers continue to trace shapes on your skin, listening intently at the baby's ‘comeback’. “I know, darling, but you have to understand the pain she’s going through. You’re making her super nauseous and tired all the time, but she won’t even take anything for it ‘cause she doesn’t want her pills to harm you. She loves you so, so much, kiddo, just as much as I love you. So, if you could just tone down your little tantrum over there and let Mommy have some rest, Daddy promises he’ll do anything you want the second you’re out of your little nest.”

Jinwoo settles his lips on your skin, letting you feel the contour of his smile. Suddenly, he pulls away, making a face as his eyes flicker back to you. “Did you hear that? Our baby just said no. I’m afraid we got a little troublemaker in here, honey.”

You titter at his performance. “Oh, really? Another one?”

“Mm, just like Daddy,” he replies with a grin too sexy to be considered playful. Jinwoo drags his stare to your stomach once more, his voice laced with mirth as he speaks. “Listen, baby. I know it’s still too early for me to say this, but I want you to understand one thing. It’s Daddy’s job to drive Mommy insane, okay? Your job is to look cute and melt Mommy’s heart so she won’t stay mad at me for too long. We need to work as a team, you and me. So, from now on, no more giving Mommy a hard time, okay? Can you promise me that?”

His little theatrics are so convincing that you can practically hear your baby sprouting their lines back to him. “Good,” Jinwoo utters in satisfaction at their imaginary response. “You’re making Daddy feel so happy right now, baby. I hope you know that your mom and I are so excited to have you. We’re going to spoil you rotten, you know that? We’re gonna take care of you and make sure you’re always safe and loved. It’s still gonna be a while until I can hold you in my arms, but I’ll be counting the days until then. Daddy can’t wait to meet you, Sweetheart.”

With sweet affection residing in his gaze, Jinwoo lays his head down on your stomach, rising and falling slightly with every breath you take. “I think they like me,” he says after listening for a while, followed by an elated sigh.

“I think that's just the sound of my guts contracting, but okay.” You ruffle his hair, your smile a mix of glee and adoration. “I’m sure they do, honey. They will love you so much and—What are you doing?!” Your voice turns a pitch higher when he suddenly drags his head south, his mouth leaving a string of wet, sensual kisses down your pelvis.

“Nothing,” he murmurs seductively against your skin, his lashes fluttering against his cheekbone as he toys with his favorite doll. “Just showing my baby some love.”

Which baby?! With shivers born out of every kiss, you find your legs squeezing around him, your fingers gripping the linen beneath you as your anticipation grows. He’s so close to where you want him, yet never close enough. Every time you feel like he's about to taste you where you ache for him the most, Jinwoo moves away, purposefully pushing you to your limit. What was it that he said before? That it was his job to drive you crazy?

“Your thigh’s trembling,” he comments with a hint of cockiness in his tone, pleased with the effects he has on you. “Cute,” he purrs out, diving his head low to suck on the inner side. Gliding his hand up your leg, he keeps your thigh pressed close to him as he grinds his teeth against the skin, teasing you without giving you a chance to escape. “Are you nervous, Sweetheart? Or maybe” —a deep, lewd moan vibrates on your skin as he sucks on your supple flesh, making sure to paint your thigh with his favorite color—“excited?”

You toss your head back, a whimper slipping out of you no matter how much you try to suppress it. It’s just a little love bite and yet...

Jinwoo chuckles. “Definitely excited.”

You want his mouth on you. God, it's insane how much you want it, but at the same time, you don't feel like you have the patience to wait anymore. You want to feel him, truly feel him, connected in every way possible, and you know he wants it, too.

“Jin…” You place one hand in his hair, grasping at his strands. Your intention is still unclear, uncertain whether you want to stop him or urge him to thrust his tongue inside. And should you even be this desperate for him? Fuck, maybe he’s right. Maybe you are needy.

Still with his head trapped between your thighs, Jinwoo circles his fingers around your wrist, guiding your hand down to his face as your thoughts still wage war against one another. As he presses your hand against his cheek, your thumb accidentally brushes against the corner of his mouth. He parts his lips instinctively, his eyes clouded as he looks at you. With a gulp, you push your index and middle fingers inside his mouth, watching him take them all at once, his cheeks hollowing around your digits, enveloping them till his lips brush against your knuckles. Jinwoo keeps his eyes glued to yours; the intensity, the lust swirling inside is unmatched, electrifying you.

He closes his lids, sucking on your fingers like he’s made for it, groaning softly around them, low and sensual. He looks so submissive like this, a view that’s so rare, you almost feel like you should commemorate it somehow. The moment you slide them away, with his saliva dripping to his chin, Jinwoo dives his head back to your heat, closing his lips around your clit.

You shudder at the sensation, your legs clenching tightly around him. “Jinwoo—ngh—”

His breathing turns heavy. He only aimed to tease you before, but after catching a glimpse of how adorable and sensitive you look right now, he tosses his plans out the window. “Can I taste you?” he whispers, his gaze almost pleading. Two of his long fingers rub against your folds, eager to spread them apart and fit his tongue in between. “I know you’re not feeling very well today, so I won’t do anything you’re not ready for, but I just… I want to take care of you.” There’s sincerity in his lustful stare, the loving side of him competing against the beast inside. “Let me take care of you. Please? It’s been so long…” It's almost a whimper that crosses past his mouth when he nuzzles his face against your thigh, mouthing his words against your skin. “I want to remember how sweet you are, Angel. Want you to come in my mouth. Will you let me?”

The filthy words ignite your desire the same way his tender tone soothes your heart. A quiet yes flows past your lips.

He presses a grateful smile against your thigh. “That’s my good girl.” His fingers begin to work on your panties, sliding them off your legs. “Just lie still for me, Sweetheart. Just relax, and…” His breath falls hot on your core, his eyes gleaming beneath the soft, golden light. Spreading your folds apart, Jinwoo opens his mouth and darts out his tongue. “Keep your eyes on me."

He pushes in without a second to waste, his tongue moving past your ring at once, tasting the sweetness of your core. Your hand returns to his hair as a startled gasp escapes you, tugging against the roots. This time, you don’t want him to stop. He can fuck you later; that can wait. Right now, all you need is to find your release, to come on his tongue the way he craves it.

“Mmph,” Jinwoo breathes out heavily through his nose, his eyes drooping in rapture the moment you start grinding on his face. He can sense your impatience, your need to take over control, to just use him as you please until you reach your ecstasy. And he knows exactly what to do for you to obtain it.

He breaks away from you, almost robbing a whine out of your lips from the short separation. To your surprise, your husband settles himself on the bed, rolling over to his back and taking your body with him. You land on his chest with a huff, his grip around your waist so possessively tight, his movements rushed as if he were on the brink of his sanity.

“Get up here,” he nearly growls, his own patience running thin. “On my face, Angel.”

“J-Jin—”

“Now.”

Adrenaline pumps through your veins, causing you to ignore all sense of shame. You crawl up his body, your hips guided dominantly by his hands. You don’t have enough time to memorize how perfect he looks underneath you—trapped between your thighs with his face flushed, his hair disheveled from your frantic hand, his lips red and inviting, glistening with your juice.

He hastily brings you down onto his face, his nails sinking into your thighs as you rub your soaking core on his tongue. “God, baby,” Jinwoo moans, the salacious sounds intermingling with yours in the air. “You're so wet. So sweet for me.” It almost sounds like he's been waiting for eternity to taste you, and honestly, to him, it does feel that way. He’s drowning in just as much pleasure as the one he gives you, just from being used by you.

He pushes your gown to your stomach, and you hold it there, clutched tight between your fingers that have grown white from how hard you clench them. You have a clear view of his face now, his lascivious expression, the way his gaze turns dark and clouded, asking you to give him more.

“Jinwoo—” You land one hand on the headboard for balance, fingers tightened into a fist. “I-I want to please you, too. Let me turn over and—”

“No,” he finds your clit, and he sucks hard, not letting you break even an inch away from him.

You almost topple over, your hand sliding down the headboard as a jolt of pleasure shoots through you. “Fuck,” you hiss out, your thighs trembling around him. “S-slow down—ngh—” You haven’t come yet, but you feel overstimulated from how hard and fervent he suckles on your bud. At this rate, you’re going to finish before you can even lay your hands on him. “Jin, please, let me suck you off, too—ah—”

Your husband stubbornly ignores your request, a low growl erupting from the back of his throat as you continue to squirm above him. He tightens his grip on you, sliding his tongue inside, thrusting deep as his nose rubs against your clit.

He parts away when you cry out pathetically, his nails raking down your thighs. “You’re going to stay right here, Angel, right on my face,” he says, his voice rough and demanding. “You’re going to ride me, make yourself feel good with my tongue, and you’re going to let me see your face when you come. That’s what I want you to do for me, Sweetheart, you understand?”

“Jin, I—”

“Answer me.”

Your breathing turns jagged, your jaw slackening on your face as you have no choice but to give him a shaky nod. “Yes…”

Satisfied with your response, he urges you to sway your hips again. His mouth feels beyond amazing, so warm and wet, and just so eager to please you. Jinwoo is right. It has been too long since you last did this, and it makes your orgasm build up frighteningly fast. Despite the urge that impels you to pick up your pace, you do the opposite, timidly rocking your hips against his face, afraid that you'll come so soon if you don’t—

But he's not having it.

“Use me,” his deep voice rumbles against your skin, his grip around your thigh bruising. “Fucking use me, baby, come on.”

It's threatening to come out, the feral beast inside of him. And he wants to take it slow for you to savor the moment, but he just needs you so terribly. He needs to have your taste in his mouth. He needs to see you come. He knows how desperately you want it.

Fuck. Fuck. You can feel abashed about it some other time. He wants to see you let loose, and you're just aching to let yourself go. You push the hem of your gown inside your mouth, seizing it between your teeth. With one hand still propped against the headboard and another one buried in his strands, you fully rest your weight on him, pressing yourself as close as possible to his mouth.

And you ride him. Hard and fast.

“Mmph—” Jinwoo grunts loudly as your fingers grab a handful of his hair, keeping him there, where he looks the prettiest with his face drenched in your essence. His gaze grows unfocused as he relishes the sweetness that oozes out of you, lapping on it fervidly as you continue to rub your clit back and forth, stopping only when he sucks on it. He doesn’t let the opportunity go to waste, suckling hard the way you like it until your toes curl in response.

“I’m—I’m close,” you warn him, no longer caring if your orgasm is coming in too fast. You can’t fight it back anymore. “Jin—”

Jinwoo responds with a moan, his eyes shut tight in rapture, eyebrows furrowing as he licks his way to your deepest part. His huge palms cup your behind, kneading your flesh and guiding you to rock your hips faster. Give it to me, Angel, he wants to say, but you’re not letting him do anything but stick out his tongue for you. He grants your wish as much as you’re granting his, breathing heavily through his nose, drunk from your taste.

Your orgasm hits you like waves crashing against rocks, so intense, it leaves you shaking from head to toe. Jinwoo tries to catch his own breathing, his hazy eyes taking in every detail of your face, memorizing every line and expression to recall later when he’s apart from you. You're pretty, so pretty. He wonders if you were made in heaven, designed by God himself to bless his eyes.

He lets you take as much time as you need to gather yourself, showering your thighs with idle kisses, his overwhelming lust reducing to sweet affection. His cock twitches painfully beneath his sweatpants, leaking and leaving a wet splotch on his underwear, yet he pays no heed to it, no matter how much it begs him to seek his own release.

He’s gotten what he wished for. He asked for a sliver of your taste, and you gave him an abundance of heaven bursting in his mouth. He's far from satisfied—he's insatiable, after all—but this is enough to soothe his yearning for you, at least for now.

You remove yourself from him, tossing yourself back to the bed, body drained, heart beating fast in the afterglow. Capturing his face with one hand, you meet his lips in a messy kiss, expressing your appreciation through searing passion. You’re still breathless, quivers residing in your fingertips as you taste yourself in his mouth, your kiss deep but far from consuming.

Jinwoo groans softly, cradling the back of your head as he licks his way inside your cavern, finding a different kind of sweetness that he pines for just the same. By the time he finds the strength to separate from you, lips swollen and glistening red, he rests his forehead against yours, trading small peals of laughter with you.

“My beautiful, beautiful wife,” he sighs, placing another kiss on your temple, his voice so raspy, it almost sounds like a purr. “Look at you looking so satisfied, all because of me.”

“All because of you,” you echo with an enervated smile. “That was… so intense…”

“Was there really any moment in our sex life that wasn’t intense?”

“True,” you titter, drowning too deeply in your bliss to care about the cockiness in his tone. “Oh, you still have a little…” You sweep your thumb across his glistening lips, wiping the rest of your… You can’t even finish your thought, sinking into an endless pit of shame for making a complete mess of his face. But of course, your husband doesn't mind. He welcomes the taste, grateful, even. He’d drink and lap every drop that seeps out of you had he been given the chance.

As if to prove his point, Jinwoo seizes your wrist before you can draw your hand away, pushing the same thumb that you used to clean off your essence into his mouth. He sucks on it, licking your digit clean, his eyes turning half-lidded, seeming almost drunkenly as he holds your stare. He’s so unbelievably, naturally, effortlessly sexy, he should’ve come with a warning.

“T-thank you,” you breathe out, dazed by how lewd he looks just now. “For, umm… You know.”

Jinwoo chuckles, gently pushing stray hairs away from your eyes. “Anytime, love. You were so tense at first; I was afraid I wasn't going to be enough for you.”

“You're always going to be enough for me. More than enough.” You brush your lips against his again, lighter, just another token of your gratitude. “It was just…” You can’t help but turn a little sheepish. “We hadn’t done that in a while, so… I think I got nervous.”

“I know. I’m sorry for not doing that sooner.” He tilts his head slightly to the side, painting kisses across the lines of your palm. “I thought about pleasuring you every day, but I didn’t want to get you all worked up when you were already so tired all the time.”

That's so like you to put my needs above everything else, you think to yourself, smiling fondly at him. “I’ll always have the energy when it comes to doing this with you, honey, you know that.”

“Not once I’m done with you,” he says, a glimmer of naughtiness returning to his eyes. “But, no, it’s not about you, baby. It’s about me. I’m too afraid that I won’t be able to hold myself back.”

You stroke his cheek, pouting slightly. “I don’t think I’ve ever asked you to hold back. And I never want you to.”

He releases a breath, heavy with desire. You’re unaware of how much your honesty affects him; how it peels the grip he constantly tightens around his restraint. “If I don’t do that, Sweetheart, you’re never leaving this bed.”

But that’s the kind of heaven you yearn for, isn’t it? To be loved every hour, held every minute, fucked deeply every second by a man whose vigor and beauty rival the Gods himself? You refrain from telling the truth, however, choosing to humor him instead. “Then the world will lose their hero.”

“That’s right,” he taps your nose, adoration in his eyes. You look so cute like this, so content and blissful with an air of playfulness in your breath. “So, you better not tempt me, Angel.”

“Hmm… Maybe I should.” You slide a hand up his chest, your tone inviting. “We’re not finished yet, are we? You haven’t come.”

He stops your teasing hand, keeping it still above his heart. It races with need beneath your palm, but he puts a cage over it. “I wasn’t planning to.” It’s a genuine confession, you can tell. “Like I said, I just wanted to taste you. Besides”—Jinwoo flaunts his smirk—“we should finish our last game before we start a new one. You haven’t answered my question, Sweetheart—any of them. I’m curious about you, too, you know. And you haven't been playing fair.”

You frown, so close to jutting out your lower lip in protest. “You still want to play that?” Desperately wanting him to give in, you crawl back on top of him, resting your palms on the bed with his head trapped in between. Your chest, adorned by your nightgown, hovers just a few inches away from his face, giving him the perfect view of your cleavage. “You sure you don’t want to play a different game with me?”

Despite wanting to appear nonchalant, you catch him swallowing his breath at the sight of your breasts, his gaze darkening before he flicks his eyes back toward yours. “Being a bit bold tonight, aren’t you, Princess?” His hand skates up your thigh, slipping beneath the hem of your gown. “And very naughty.” Your lover cups your behind with one hand, his fingers squeezing your bare skin, while the other begins its own journey to your chest. “Want me to take you right here?” He palms one of your breasts, kneading it firmly from over your gown. “Right now?”

Fuck, yes. “Mm, maybe,” you croon, wetting your lip.

“Don’t do that,” he warns. The sight of your tongue peeking out from between plush lips nearly pulls out a growl. “I’m already hanging on a thread as it is.”

Your eyes droop as your gaze descends to his lips. You bring your head low, your mouth a breath away from his. “I’m telling you to let go,” you murmur seductively, your lips ready to collide once more.

But Jinwoo, as stubborn as a mule, places a finger on them, stopping you just in time. “And I’m telling you to wait, Sweetheart,” he gently says, sitting on the bed while keeping you close. “It will be worth every second, I promise.”

Honest to God? You’re pissed off and you’re this close to throwing a tantrum like a child, but your annoying, utterly adamant husband merely laughs at the sight, his fingers poking into your cheeks as he grabs you cutely by the face. “Look, you’re pouting again. This is why I love it when you’re being needy. You always make this face and it’s just so”—he releases you just to plant a tantalizing kiss on your chin—“fucking”—his tongue now glides across your lip, an act so sinful, it steals your breath away—“cute.” Jinwoo kisses you, deep and rough, his lips devouring yours, moaning against your mouth as he does it.

You’re close to celebrating your victory of persuading him when he abruptly stops, breaking away and showcasing an innocent smile as if he didn’t just awaken all the butterflies in your stomach with that single kiss. “You look the prettiest when you cry, the cutest when you pout, and the sexiest when you're angry. Now you know why I can’t stop teasing you, don’t you, Angel? You're just so damn addicting.”

Not letting his words get to your head, you swat his hand away, glaring. “You’re postponing sex just because you want to see me pout?”

“Maybe.” He can't help the little grin that plays across his face, hearing your protest. “But also, you just came a minute ago. I don't want to—what’s the word—overstimulate you.”

“As if you haven’t done that before,” you snort, nearly forgetting your goal of getting him back to bed. You switch back quickly. You still have a little devil to seduce. “Which I love, obviously. And I can come again, you know.”

“Oh, I know you can,” he smirks, nothing but enticing. “I’ll make sure you do. But first, you need to answer my questions.”

“Oh my God, fine,” you groan loudly, tossing your head back in frustration. You stand on your knees on the bed, towering a few inches above him with his thighs caged in between them. “Can we, at least, do that while making out?” It’s pathetic that you ask that, but at this point, you’ll take even the little crumbs of his passion.

“You know I would, but clearly, someone can’t afford even the tiniest bit of distraction, so I think we should leave it right here. For now.” He fixes the strap of your gown with a bemused look on his face. “As much as I would love to make love to you right now, Sweetheart, let’s be patient.” He circles his arms around your waist, drawing you close enough until his breath caresses your chest as he speaks. He looks up, placing an idle kiss right above your heart. “You know how I am, don’t you? I love taking my time with you.”

“Saying that while you’re quite literally poking me with your dick is insane, actually.”

“And that”—he boops your nose, his grin cheeky—“is the other tiny distraction you need to ignore.”

“Yeah, it's definitely tiny. Your dick, that is.”

He rolls his eyes. “Mm-hmm, sure. Now, answer me. If you had to choose one of my features to keep, what would it be? My tiny dick is not an option.”

Perhaps it’s driven by the urgent desire to get this stupid game over with, or maybe it’s because your mind is still gyrating from how warm and amazing his mouth felt on you earlier—whatever it is, your answer slips out before you can put a filter on it. “Everything.”

Jinwoo stops for a bit, his eyes blinking in surprise at how easily and genuinely your reply topples out of your mouth. For a brief moment, you wonder if you should take it back to regain some of your dignity, but after what he’s done to you—for you—you figure he deserves every bit of your honesty. “E-Everything,” you repeat with heat creeping up your cheeks. “I love everything about you, so… I’d want to keep all of them.”

His gaze softens, his smile carrying a sliver of bashfulness that he rarely portrays. Though he’s overjoyed with your reply, he refuses to accept it as an answer. Despite his flirtatious tendencies, your husband remains a humble man, no matter how strong and how wealthy he’s become ever since he established his own guild. Narcissism has never been a part of him, especially when it comes to his looks. He has confidence in his body as he trains his muscles daily, but he feels average on everything else, and that’s why he treats the sweet confession of your affection as merely a compliment, but not the truth. “That’s not a fair answer, Sweetheart. Just one.”

As hard as it is to choose, the answer comes to mind within a heartbeat. “Your eyes.”

Jinwoo arches an eyebrow. “My eyes?”

“Mm,” you nod your head, slightly sheepish now that you need to elaborate further. The hand that you rest on his shoulder glides up to his neck, your fingers grazing against his undercut as you tilt his face backward, taking a clear look at the serene, pretty sapphires that have bewitched you from day one.

“I love how… intense they are, how expressive. They speak more than your words ever could. They’re haunting in the most beautiful way. So powerful that you can make any man cower under your gaze, even without a word. And I love how they turn soft and gentle whenever you look at our daughter. I love how…” You exhale, almost in reverence. Staring deeply into them like this, truly makes you feel grateful that you’re the only woman whose reflection is engraved in his eyes, whose name is etched in his chest. “I love how you make me feel so loved, so wanted, so adored, every time we lock gazes. And I love how they look when you… stare at me like this.”

His heart flutters as he hears you describe his eyes in such a way, never realizing just how much you’d paid attention to them. Hypnotized under your captivating stare, he utters a soft, “Like what..?”

Like you’re aching to take me, every part of me, claim it as yours and devour me until there’s nothing left of me to share with anyone else, but at the same time, to love me in the gentlest way. There's an equal balance of lust and affection in his gaze, the same amount of yearning and obsession. You're not sure how to convey that into words, so when you separate your lips, you say, “Like you… want me so terribly.”

He releases a faint, contented sigh, his eyes offering a new sense of tenderness as he looks at you. “You’re wrong.” Jinwoo tightens his arms around your waist, your body pressed flush against his. “I don’t want you, Sweetheart. I need you. I always do.” He adores the shyness that embellishes your face. “I didn't realize you love my eyes that much…”

You can tell how he, too, turns a little shy over it. Cute. Playing with the baby hairs on his nape, you tease him, “Well, don’t be too pleased about it. I don’t like them that much.”

“Oh? Then how much do you love them?”

“Like a normal amount,” you toss him a grin. “What about you, Husband? Which part of my features do you like the most?”

Jinwoo, so effortlessly, lifts your body and places you back on the bed, your hair strewn on the pillow as he hovers above you. “I love everything about you,” he confesses in a breathy whisper, just as sincere as the words you've spoken before. “I adore every part of you, even those that you try to hide, those that you think don’t deserve to be loved.”

His fingers trace the blemish on your face, the soft scars on your body that you’d gotten during your adventurous childhood days, the stretch marks on your stomach that never truly disappeared after your first pregnancy, and the little dark circles under your eyes from all the sleepless nights. Jinwoo adores all your imperfections, as they are still perfections in his eyes.

“But if I had to choose one, then I’d have to say…” His gaze cascades down your face, his thumb tracing over the shape of your mouth. “This.”

“My… mouth?” You reply a little hazily, your own stare falling to his lips. “Why…?”

“Because I love the way you kiss me,” he whispers, keeping his lips a hair’s breadth away from yours as he gathers what's left of his self-control to finish the rest of his answer. You can almost feel the shape of the words he speaks. “Your lips are a perfect fit against mine. I love how soft they feel, how sweet you taste. And they just look so beautiful, and so damn… kissable.” He bites his own lip, fighting the urge to claim yours. He doesn’t want to give in to temptation just yet. He wishes to douse the curiosity that brims in your eyes, even when your tongue is too shy to speak it.

“I love the way they move when you talk to me,” he continues in sotto voce, his thumb brushing the edge of your mouth. “I love how gorgeous they look when you smile.” Every cell of his body, similar to yours, begs him to bridge the distance. “And when you say my name… The way these pretty lips look when you say it… It drives me wild.” His hand suddenly roams up your thigh, his fingertips lightly brushing against your core, eliciting a startled gasp out of you. “And that—those cute little noises you make when I touch you. Those beautiful, sweet little sounds…” He sighs longingly, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “God, I feel like I’m losing my mind whenever I’m with you.”

Six years. Six years you’ve been together, yet you still have these effects on him. And his effects on you are even worse.

You’ve forgotten how many times he’s lit your body on fire tonight, merely by his lines. But perhaps it’s not because of the words he speaks, it’s the never-ending desire that coats them. He makes you feel like you’re a prize to be won, a heaven’s gift that he still yearns for, no matter how often he’s tasted you.

“But beyond all that… What I love the most about your mouth is…” He brings himself to your ear, his voice deep and breathy. “What you can do with it.”

You shiver at the revelation, your heart beating in your throat. The way his lust drips thickly from each word…. He makes the line sound so filthy.

“When you kiss your way down my body… When you wrap your pretty mouth around my cock…” Jinwoo breathes out rather raggedly, getting aroused by the vision. His hips press down on you, slightly grinding against yours as he nips at your neck. “You asked me what ran through my mind earlier when I was on the raid. It was this, picturing you on your knees, your pretty eyes staring up at me, waiting—begging for me to give it to you. I imagined you taking me in your mouth, slowly, deeply, obediently like the good girl you are.” The raspiness in his voice tickles your ear, derailing you from your thoughts. “I wanna fuck your mouth, Angel. Wanna fuck it until you cry. Until you start gasping, gagging around my cock.”

This is new to you, this burning, stimulating sensation that pools in your stomach, the way your body is reacting to him. Jinwoo has never been so… brazen with his words before. He’s a romantic in his nature. Expletives come out sometimes in moments of desperation, yes, but he never really uses vulgar words to describe how he feels. Even when he talks dirty to you, his lines come in praise, sometimes even poetic in a way. You wonder if something within him has snapped from all these games you’ve played, the same way yours is about to.

“So—so, why don't you?” You breathlessly ask. “I’d let you.”

He lowly groans, trying to rediscover his control. “Yeah?” He asks heavily, his hips still rocking slowly against yours, his hot breath falling on your neck in tatters. “You’d let me?”

“Yes, I want it.” You nearly plead, your fingers grasping against his bare waist. But then, it dawns on you, all the horror that could happen. “Wait, actually, no, not right now. I mean, later when I don't feel so nauseous anymore.”

Jinwoo stops, looking at you incredulously for a split second before he bursts into laughter. “Yeah,” he chortles, his body vibrating with mirth as he lays his forehead on your shoulder. “Yeah, you’re right. I don’t want you to actually throw up on me.”

To your disappointment, the sizzling tension between you disperses into nothingness, but seeing him laugh like that, so light and carefree, almost like a little boy, you can’t help but feel warmed by it. A soft smile ornaments your face as you watch him, committing every expression to memory. His laughter eventually recedes, replaced by a tranquil sigh as he looks down at you. “How many questions do I have left, Angel?”

Two, but your impatience tells you to cheat. “One.”

Although he narrows his eyes suspiciously at you, he relents. ”What do you like most about me?”

It’s the easiest question in the world with an infinite number of answers you can say. It would take you forever if you had to list his endearing traits one by one, something that you’d gladly do if you weren’t so consumed by this burning need to have him right now. You decide to say the first word that comes to your mind, the one thing that’s been stealing your attention since the time he kissed you.

“Your tongue,” you answer in a breathless whisper, your mortification sinking in only when it rings back to your ear. His tongue?! You reprimand yourself. Seriously?! It’s not that it’s wrong—his tongue is definitely something else—but to say it out loud?

You expect your husband to burst into laughter again, or worse, act cocky and cheeky about it, but his voice takes on a slightly darker tone, his body heating up above yours. “My tongue, huh?” His voice, low and deep, silences your thoughts at once. “And what exactly about my tongue do you like so much?”

Your face nearly explodes, but knowing how it already slipped out of your mouth, you might as well just tell him the truth. “I…” Your cheeks burn bright, your voice reducing to a murmur. “I love the way you use it when you kiss me.” And when you pleasure me, you want to add, but there’s only so much shame you could endure.

Jinwoo lowers himself to you, his gaze intense. “When I kiss you…” His lean fingers trap your chin, his hooded gaze falling to your lips. “You mean like this?”

His lips move against yours in a sweet, slow, sensual dance, taking his time, making sure that you feel everything, every detail, every breath he releases that you consume, every movement he makes—the way he parts his lips, the way he parts yours, the way he deliberately drags his tongue from the bottom of your chin to the seam of your upper lip before he pushes in through the aperture just enough for you to feel him on the tip of your tongue, the way he tastes in your mouth, a bit of mint, and a lot of you. Everything fills your senses.

He breaks away to let you catch your breath, a string of saliva connecting the bridge between you. “Jin—“

“Not yet,” he dives back in, turning it up a notch. Each swirl, each glide, each roll of his tongue against yours feels like it’s in slow motion, your toes curling in the sweet torture he gives you. It feels so much more obscene, so much filthier than the ravenous kisses you shared before. He keeps the kiss slow but deep, exploring your mouth the way a yearning man would savor his lover’s last kiss. He breathes heavily through his nose, emitting a soft groan every now and then, addicted to the way you taste.

His previous kisses left you breathless, but this… This leaves you in a haze, so spellbound by his kiss that when he separates himself from you, you can barely remember your name. Your eyes, dazed and hypnotized, follow the way he runs his tongue across his bottom lip, now slick and swollen after being suckled.

But perhaps, he shares your sentiments as well, because the second Jinwoo draws himself back, his thumb presses down on your lip, tugging it lower to see the sweet cavern inside, his eyes misted with hunger as if he already misses the way you taste.

“Jinwoo—”

“Do you know just how much self-control it takes to not just take you right here, right now?” The huskiness in his voice stuns you, so rough as if he were on the brink of losing himself. His eyes slowly journey back to your own, turning you into a nervous, excited mess beneath him. The intensity of his gaze… The depth… The vivid desire that leaves you gripping the sheets… “You don’t even know how sexy you are to me, do you, Angel? You and your pretty eyes and your little white gown, and these sweet”—he kisses you, lighter than air, yet he still moans softly at the contact—“sweet lips of yours.” His hand slithers to your neck, his fingers caging you, leaving you completely under his mercy. “Think I could just eat you up right now.”

Your heart beats in your throat. “S-sorry.”

He blinks before he releases a soft laugh, his hand leaving your neck to tangle your fingers together. ”Why are you apologizing?” Honestly, you don’t even know why. It just felt like you had to after messing with his sanity so much. Jinwoo, still smiling, applies a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “There’s no need for you to say sorry, Sweetheart. I love it when you make it hard for me to control myself.”

“You do..?”

"Of course I do,” he presses another kiss, more playful this time. “I love it when you look at me with this look in your eyes. I love seeing you breathless.” He cups your cheek, taking in your features. “I love knowing how much you want me.”

He can feel your chest rising and falling against his as the tension returns. Your breath comes in short, shallow breaths, his acute hearing catching just how fast your heartbeat grows. He’s close to losing it, even when he plays it cool. “Do you still have more questions you want to ask me?” Jinwoo says, despite his mind already drifting somewhere else. “If you do, then this is your last chance, Angel. I’m afraid I’m starting to get a little… impatient.”

You wish he could just sever it, that last rope that binds him together. And perhaps you can, he’s handing you the knife to do it, after all.

“No,” you breathe out. “No more questions.”

His eyes gleam, his lips curving into a wolfish grin. “Well then…” Without warning, he rolls you to your stomach until you’re pressed flat against the bed. His hips press down against yours from behind, his hand fisting a handful of your hair and he tugs it back, earning himself a low groan. Deprived of your options as you’re being held still, your eyes land on the standing mirror before you, just the way he wants you to. It reflects you perfectly, showcasing how helpless you are beneath him, the pathetic look on your face—so eager to be touched, and the way his gaze turns dark as it meets your own.

Jinwoo whispers in your ear, keeping your eyes locked with his in the mirror as he smirks.

“Let’s play a different game now, shall we?”

***

Read the alternate/deleted scene here. It's spicier 😁🌶️

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moonstruckme · 1 year ago

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hi! i've been stalking your page for literal hours and i love how you write poly marauders so much!! could you write how they would react to the reader coming home from a night out with a black eye or something like that?? <33333

Thank you lovely! And thanks for being so patient while I took literal months to get to this request haha, love you! <3

cw: reader is drunk and has a black eye

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

“Hey, gorgeous,” Sirius says as you come in the door. Remus shushes him, and he lowers his voice. “How’re the girls?”

“Good,” you reply, cautiously quiet as you kick off your shoes.

Rounding the couch, you see James asleep on Remus’ shoulder, a small puddle of drool soaking into the material of the taller boy’s pajama shirt. They’re all in pajamas, actually. Envy strikes you through the heart. They look so unbearably cozy, better than you in your scratchy jeans and too-tight top.

“I hope you didn’t wait up,” you say as Remus flips his book closed, and Sirius chuckles. You’ll learn later that you’d been slurring your words.

“We don’t mind,” Remus confirms your suspicions. “You didn’t walk home by yourself, did you?”

You shake your head, flopping into the spot beside James on the couch. Only you hadn’t quite thought that through, and Remus tuts as he starts to rouse.

“Sorry,” you whisper. “Um, the girls dropped me off out front.”

Sirius nods his approval. James hums as he picks his head up off Remus’ shoulder, spotting you.

“Hey, lovie.” He transfers his affections to you, wrapping his arms around your neck and letting himself weigh heavily against your front. You giggle, your favorite monkey. “Did you just get home?”

“Uh-huh. Oh, Jamie!” You gasp as a memory makes its way out of the fog of your brain. “I saw something you would have loved.”

“What’s that?” he asks.

“We came across a dog park, and I didn’t even know those could be open at night but—”

“No, angel.” He’s stopped hugging you, an unpleasant development, one of his hands leaving your neck to hold your cheek. “What’s that on your face?”

“Hm?” You don’t remember anything getting on your face. “I dunno. Jamie, I’m trying to tell you about the puppies.”

“Just hold on, darling, sorry. Is that a bruise?”

“What?” Sirius is in front of you before you know what’s happened. Vampire-fast, you think fascinatedly, wondering if he’d have been a streak across your vision had you bothered to look. Though, to be fair, your vision is generally streaky at the moment. He takes your chin in his hand, tilting it up and to the side. “Remus, point your light here.”

There’s a low creaking as Remus adjusts his reading lamp, and then you’re squeezing your eyes shut.

“Jesus, what the hell?”

Remus curses softly, and you squint to see him leaning closer to you. Your boyfriends’ faces crowd your vision like a three-headed monster.

“Baby,” Sirius says, sounding heartbroken, “what happened?”

“I don’t—can you move the light away?”

More creaking, and you can see again. You blink, eyes watery, and Sirius lays a painstakingly gentle thumb over the skin beneath your eye.

“It must be bad if it’s already bruising,” he says.

Remus stands. “Then we should put ice on it.”

You pout as he disappears into the kitchen, but Sirius recaptures your attention by turning your face toward his.

“I need you to think.” He fixes his stare on yours gravely. His eyes are the color of the moon reflecting off water. You try to tell him so, but his frown doesn’t abate. “Listen,” he says, “what happened to hurt your eye? You have to remember.”

You purse your lips, shaking your head at him. “I feel like I’d know if something happened,” you say self-assuredly. “It’s probably just makeup. Can you get me a wipe?”

“Angel.” James’ eyebrows have hooked upwards in the middle. He’s looking uncharacteristically serious, too. Your boyfriends are really not being a ton of fun tonight, you think. “It’s all red and purple. You can’t tell me that doesn’t hurt, babydoll.”

You shrug. That may be so. But if it doesn’t hurt, who really cares?

Sirius gets up just as Remus comes back with what looks like a balled-up dish towel. He passes it to you with a tender look on his face.

“Put this on your eye, honey,” he says. Then, “Sirius, love, where are you going?”

“To call Evans.”

You touch the cloth to your eye, but it’s freezing cold, and you opt to let it rest in your lap instead.

“She won’t even be home yet,” Remus argues. “And what do you think you’ll accomplish if you do get ahold of her? She can’t tell us anything now that she won’t still know in the morning.”

“What if somebody did this to her? If Evans saw, I want to know about it tonight.”

“Don’t you think,” James says, “that if someone hit her, the girls would’ve come in and told us?” You lean against his side, and he wraps an arm around you automatically, rubbing your shoulder. He smells like strawberries and laundry detergent and something ineffably homey. “They wouldn’t have just dropped her off out front.”

“What if no one saw?”

“Then what do you think calling will do, love?”

“I just…I feel like I have to do something. Don’t you?”

You lean your head on James’ shoulder and snuggle into the familiar sounds of your boyfriends’ voices, overlapping and intermingling. You don’t realize they’ve gone quiet until Remus’ hand wraps around yours, and you open your eyes.

“You’ve got to actually hold this on your eye,” he chides lovingly, taking the dish towel from you and pressing it to your face.

The edge of something hard beneath the cloth digs into a tender spot beneath your eye, and you flinch. “Ow.”

Remus’ forehead creases sympathetically. “Sorry.”

But the pain brings another memory out of the fog. You pick your head up as you feel your good eye widen in realization, meeting Sirius’.

He flicks up an eyebrow. “What’re you smiling about?”

“I remember what happened,” you admit, a touch of embarrassment to your tone. And if you hadn’t had everyone’s attention before, you do now.

“What was it?” James rubs your shoulder reassuringly. “You can tell us.”

“It’s…when we were at the dog park, I got distracted.”

Remus’ eyes narrow. “Go on.”

You rub your lips together self-consciously. “I may have walked into a sign. About poop bags.”

James leans away from you to see you better. “Like, a metal sign?”

You nod, and he winces.

“Ouch, lovie.”

“Fucking hell.” Sirius covers his face with both hands, loosing a big breath through the cracks in his palms. Remus reaches back to pats his leg consolingly. “I was ready to go after whoever did that with a tire iron.”

You shrink into the couch cushions. “Sorry.”

“You could still take a tire iron to the sign, I suppose,” James says.

Sirius ignores him, crouching in front of you and taking your face in both hands. Remus lets the cloth drop rather than maneuver around him. “Don’t ever scare me like that again, understand?”

“Yeah,” James agrees, “if you injure yourself in the future, ask for a pen and make a note on your arm or something. Save us the worry.”

You lean forward, pressing a lingering, heartfelt kiss to Sirius’ cheek.

“Thanks for worrying,” you say, and where your lips touched him the skin glows pink.

“You’re taking years off my life, you know,” he says quietly.

Remus chuckles. “Don’t worry. It looks good on you.”

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kenyummy · 2 months ago

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Heyyo!!! I'm loving the series of the Ballad of the Bygone. I do want to ask where is the original MC (DC! MC) in the DC universe? Did they die? Gotten isekaid to the Marvel universe?

Also, will the family, specifically Jason, have some guilt for using MC as a replacement for DC! MC. Like, their original little sibling disappeared.

MY FIRST ASK AARFGGG IM SO EXCITED ok guys ❤️❤️❤️

i kind of briefly brushed over it in the first chapter (or the second if u the count the prolouge i guess) but the reader originally from the dc universe was kind of switched with the reader from marvel.

(ill use spidey and dc!reader respectively to represent the two)

dc!reader is with aunt may right now, and is obviously pretty freaked out but is actually enjoying themselves with how loving Aunt May really is. shes nothing like bruce and since dc!reader isnt spidey, she can spend a lot more time with them.

their bond with harry and mj is still the same and all in all their life just seems to be a lot better over there! though they wonder who spidey is exactly (and why that suit looks so darn familiar), and why the world seems to be mourning their loss...

on the second topic of your ask—yes! guilt is a huge driving factor for what makes the fam go a lil cuckoo !!!

they messed up baddddd with dc!reader, they made them feel unwanted and bitter... so they need to fix it! they don't know you two aren't technically the same people at first, but when they find out, they're both relieved and upset.

you're not them, sure—but it's like they can start over with a new blank slate. even if they can't fix what they did to dc!reader, they can make it up by loving you as much as they possibly can!!! you don't have all those bad memories—but you don't have any of the good ones, either.

(those "good memories" were the reason why the dc!reader kept trying in the first place—in one of the chaps i wrote they were hinted at being "desperate" and that's solely bc they missed those good times they spent w dick jason alfred and bruce!!! but spidey couldn't care less—bc they have none of those memories).

their memories w dc!reader are so little and few that they can hardly remember what their personality was like, which is why it's so easy for them to "replace" dc!reader with spidey. it's a mix of that and their soul consuming guilt to make it all up to them—that drives them to get that bad

jason would feel one of the guiltiest—i purposely didn't write him as unknowingly neglectful, but more like a mix of the fact he's barely ever there, and that he doesn't want to ruin the old memories you have of him.

he's so different now—he's changed into somebody he doesn't even know, and whenever he looks at you, all he sees is that little kid he used to play hide and seek with. he can't bear to ruin your image of him into a cold blooded killer.

but when he finds you there—bleeding out after becoming a victim to the horrors of gotham—he just can't leave you alone like that anymore. he feels just so awful, that he has to make things right. he'll spend time with you again; he'll take you for a ride on his bike after midnight, even if Bruce hates it, hell—he'll even play hide and seek with you again, just to make it right.

but when you're revealed to not be dc!reader... well, like dick and bruce—he's too far gone to even care at that point, as much as he hates to admit it. it's hard for him to see you two as two different people—because he still sees you as that little kid.

he starts believing you are the dc!reader at some point—he keeps asking if you remember this, remember that, remember that burger place you all went to whenever joker was recaptured—and whenever you tell him you don't, he only shrugs it off as you being forgetful.

just because he simply cannot handle the fact that he messed up, you got hurt, and now he doesn't have a chance to make it up to dc!reader. you two are practically one and the same to him—because he didn't get to see you grow up, he didn't get to know you—this is his chance now.

(but deep down, the guilt eats him up inside. deep down he knows this isn't his [name]. deep down he knows he's just using you as a way to channel the feelings that consume him).

deep down—sometimes, he can't find it within himself to even care. as long as he has you.

thank you for asking even if I yapped ahahasggaaga

#🧸✰ the ballad of a bygone blight #yandere batfam x neglected reader #batfam x neglected reader #platonic batfam #platonic yandere batfam x reader #platonic yandere batfam #platonic batfam x reader #yandere batfam #batfam x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #yandere jason todd #yandere batfam x reader #yandere dc x reader #dc x reader #neglected reader #spider reader #© iliverae 2025 !

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ninibeingdelulu · 10 months ago

Text

"I'm right here"

plot- an argument with depressed geto CLICK ME

"I can't believe you're being like this!"

Suguru's voice cracked with frustrated accusation, slamming his textbook down with enough force to make you flinch.

"It's like you're purposefully trying to drive a wedge between Satoru and me just because you're jealous!"

You felt your hands ball into fists at your sides as that familiar spike of molten defensiveness surged through your veins.

How dare he diminish your concerns so callously after everything you'd been through together? As if your feelings were some trite, immature flight of fancy rather than the genuine loneliness you'd been grappling with lately.

"Jealous?" you scoffed, tossing your pencil aside with a heated glare.

"You really think I'm that petty? That this is just me throwing some pathetic tantrum over not getting enough attention from Wunderkind Geto?"

Suguru opened his mouth - undoubtedly to fire back with another biting remark - but you barreled forward, finally allowing the dam holding back weeks of bottled resentment to burst open.

No more mincing words or letting things fester until they'd reached this ugly, toxic fever pitch.

"I'm worried about you, jackass!"

You shoved off the couch, gesturing wildly as the torrent of pent-up emotions flooded free in a tumultuous rush.

"That's all I've wanted from the start! For you to actually let me in about what's been eating you up so badly lately that you've become a total goddamn stranger!"

Suguru seemed to visibly deflate somewhat under the brunt force of your outburst. But that brief hesitation was rapidly replaced by the familiar stubborn set of his squared jaw and narrowed onyx gaze which indicated the imminent eruption of his own fiery temper.

"Oh, so now you're my therapist?" he sneered, bracing his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward in your direction with acerbic challenge.

"Sorry I've been such an inconvenience while busting my ass trying to actually secure my future instead of wasting time with teenage melodrama!"

You shook your head in disbelief, throwing your hands up as another harsh bark of laughter cut through the tension like a serrated blade.

"Un-fucking-believable...Is that seriously what you think this is about? Me being petty over you 'wasting time' with dumb high school bullshit?!"

Suguru simply glowered in stony silence, the muscle in his clenched jaw visibly twitching.

Waiting for you to either continue your tirade or offer more proof of your apparent delusions over the state of things between you.

Well, if he wanted you to spell out the tangled knot of anguish and confused longing festering in your chest with stark clarity...Then so be it.

"I'm in love with you, you arrogant prick!"

The confession exploded out of you with enough volcanic force to make you immediately slap a hand over your mouth.

Yet once uncorked, there was no recapturing the deluge as it raged on, raw and unfettered.

"And it's been ripping me apart watching you spiral so far down in this pit of darkness without letting anyone in to try and pull you back out!"

Suguru looked as though he'd been struck across the face.

All residual ire seeping away into slack-jawed shock and visceral vulnerability cracking those steely exterior walls you'd slammed against so fruitlessly in the past.

His throat bobbed in an audible gulp, those intense obsidian eyes you used to lose yourself in now swimming with a thousand different conflicting emotions roiling in their tumultuous depths.

The sudden, stark silence stretching between you was enough to buffer even the frantic hammering of your pulse thundering past your ears.

The fear of obliterating one of the most important relationships of your life in that combustive outpouring constricted around your throat like a vise of pure dread.

Then, after what felt like an eternity...Suguru's expression shifted again.

His features settling into an almost haunted kind of resignation piercing directly into your very soul. When he spoke, his typically unflappable baritone emerged cracking and subdued - the most naked glimpse you'd ever witnessed of what laid beneath the surface he fought so vigilantly to repress.

"I...I know..." he confessed in a gust of breath barely above a whisper.

One shaky hand scrubbed over his face, refusing to meet your wide-eyed stare. "Fuck, I've known how you felt and I-I kept pushing you away so I wouldn't hurt you more by—"

The strangled catch in his throat cut off whatever fragile truth seemed to be teetering on the precipice of being laid bare between you.

Suguru's free hand balled into a fist clenching the material of his pants until his knuckles bored white while haunted shadows flickered across his downturned visage.

Never before had you witnessed him look so...utterly wrecked. So excruciatingly human under the weight of inner demons you'd never known to be lurking underneath it all.

Not until they'd already carved out pieces of him you might never get the chance to recover.

But you couldn't allow either of you to retreat into that isolating darkness anymore. Not after clawing your way this deep into the open wounds between you both.

Too many regrets were already trailing behind in your wake...

The deafening silence hung thick and palpable in the wake of Suguru's shattered admission.

You could practically taste the roiling torrent of unspoken truths and anguished vulnerability thrashing violently just beneath the surface he was struggling so viscerally to repress.

You knew with every fiber of your being that if you didn't reach out in this pivotal moment, the fragile threads binding you both together risked snapping under the immense strain.

And you refused to let that happen - even if it meant wading blindly into the shadowy depths of whatever demons were currently carving him hollow from the inside.

Tentatively, you bridged the couch cushions separating you and laid your palm overtop that trembling fist clenched with white-knuckled force against his thigh.

Suguru flinched slightly at the contact, but didn't immediately recoil away. Emboldened by that microscopic victory, you gently pried his fingers open to lace them through your own in silent invitation.

"Suguru..." you murmured, injecting as much tender reassurance into his name as humanly possible.

"Whatever it is causing you so much pain...you don't have to keep shouldering it alone anymore. I'm right here, okay? I'm not going anywhere."

His jaw clenched spasmodically, those turbulent eyes still steadfastly averted from meeting your concerned gaze.

You could see the muscle twitching in his cheek from the sheer force he was exerting to keep that impenetrable mask locked firmly in place.

But you refused to relent, rubbing the pad of your thumb soothingly across his knuckles in hopes of coaxing him to simply breathe. To open himself up even a sliver after all this time...

"Please," you implored, daring to shuffle closer until your thighs were a hairsbreadth from touching.

Until that painfully unguarded expression was directly in your line of vision, begging to be witnessed without judgment or reprimand.

"Let me help carry this for you, 'Guru. You've been alone with this anguish for too long..."

Finally, finally , some of that tightly wound tension began leeching from his hunched shoulders as if the words had sliced through some of those invisible restraints shackling him down.

Suguru raised his other hand to rake shakily through his tousled raven locks, unravelling before your very eyes.

When his gaze at last lifted to lock with yours, the sight of those inky pools swimming with so much naked, harrowing vulnerability physically winded you.

"I'm so afraid..." he confessed in a ragged whisper thick with shame and trepidation.

His hand convulsed where you clutched it in your lap as if the admission had torn open a fresh, gaping wound inside.

"I've convinced myself I have this grand purpose to dedicate myself to completely, but there's a part of me that wonders if it's all been an excuse...a distraction from facing how truly lost and messed up I've become."

Tears glistened in those haunted obsidian depths and your heart shattered at the sight of Suguru's meticulously constructed walls crumbling before your eyes.

The instinctive need to pull him into your embrace and chase those demons away was near overpowering.

Yet you resisted, allowing him to unfurl at his own pace without outside influence. Simply being the steady presence and supportive tether he so clearly needed more than he'd realized.

"Everyone told me I was destined for greatness after awakening to my talents...That I possessed a gift entrusted to rectify this curse plaguing our kind."

Suguru's voice had descended into a hoarse, halting murmur as the floodgates burst completely open.

Each gravelly syllable etched in anguish carved into his very marrow.

"But deep down, I've always been so goddamn afraid of failing. Of disappointing everyone and being seen as the fraud I've convinced myself I must be for harboring any weakness or-or..."

His words finally failed, fading into a ragged exhalation torn from his very core as he lifted his imploring gaze beseechingly to yours.

"God, why am I like this? Why does any of this matter when all I've wanted is to open my eyes and see you smiling back at me without all this bullshit driving us apart?"

Your throat constricted wordlessly, scorching tears blurring your vision at the utter desolation contorting Suguru's features into the most wrenching expression imaginable.

Here was the strongest, most indomitable person in your life bearing the very depths of his shattered soul before you in total surrender.

And you instantly knew in that pivotal, crystalline moment - there was nowhere else you could ever fathom being that wasn't by his side.

Providing the steadfast strength and acceptance for those fragmented pieces until he felt whole enough to stand on his own once more.

There would be more tears, more shards to sift through together in confronting this pervasive darkness slowly consuming him from the inside out.

But the first painful, cathartic step had been taken. And you fully intended to never allow Suguru to slip backward into that isolating abyss ever again.

So you did the only thing left to reassure him he wasn't alone in this monumental fight for his very sense of self and purpose.

You surged forward and pulled him into your fiercely protective embrace - cradling his shuddering form flush against your chest as his own quiet sobs finally shook loose in heartrending waves.

"I'm here...I'm right here, 'Guru..." you whispered over and over into the downy strands of ebony hair tickling your lips.

"We're going to get through this, I swear it..."

Your shared tears and ragged breaths mingled achingly between your twined bodies as a new, mended path forward gradually unfurled with each passing heartbeat.

From the ashes of everything you thought you'd understood about him and the conflicted world he inhabited...

Bound now by the decision to walk whatever darkened road stretched ahead completely united in purpose and love at long last laid bare - come what may.

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megistusdiary · 11 months ago

Text

"𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘬𝘰𝘯𝘴"

this was sitting in my drafts for months, and i opened it and realized i kind of cooked on the first 6 paragraphs i wrote, so i wanted to finish it. also, bun yelled at me :(

dom!blade x sub fem!reader x dom!kafka

warnings: smut (mdni), wlw content, penetration (reader receiving), fellatio, face-riding, fingering, size difference, leash + collar

you tiptoed quietly down the hall, hands busied with wringing and interlocking your fingers as you made your way down to the common area you shared with the other stellaron hunters.

really, it wasn't quite clear if you actually were a hunter, or rather, just a companion of sorts they liked to keep around.

you tried to be quiet, not wanting to wake anyone on the ship as you approached the area.

just as you reached out towards the panel on the wall, the door opened noisily, making you cringe and immediately flinch when you realized you weren't alone.

both blade and kafka's eyes were on you. the sword blade was previously sharpening laid still on his lap, and kafka's gun dematerialized as her lips quirked up.

the fake fireplace crackled behind them to fill the silence as she rose from the couch, trailing her hand across blade's shoulders as she made her way towards you.

"i didn't know you two were still awake." you spoke softly, standing a little straighter when kafka approached you. she pressed her finger beneath your chin, gently lifting your gaze to meet hers.

"couldn't sleep, hm?" she questioned, prompting you to nod.

"i was coming down to sit by the fire. i didn't mean to disturb anyone." your eyes moved away from kafka's, reflecting the orange glow from the fireplace.

"that's alright. why don't you come in for a bit, hm?" kafka leaned down, recapturing your attention as her finger turned your chin back towards her.

"i really don't want to impose-"

"just come in already, or you really will wake up the entire ship." blade's voice came from behind kafka, as sharp as his name.

"it's just us," kafka smiled, removing her hand from your jaw and resting it on your shoulder. she leaned down, lips ghosting the shell of your ear. "we don't bite."

blade let out a soft puff of air at that comment, sheathing his sword and standing from the couch.

kafka stifled a laugh as your cheeks heated up. you nodded, allowing kafka to gently guide you into the room, pressing the panel on the wall behind you, causing the door to lock with a clicking noise.

you glanced back at the door once more before moving further into the room. blade had moved into a different armchair, freeing the couch for you and kafka. "have a seat." kafka gestured, gently pushing you down by her firm hold on your shoulders.

it was rather warm, nearly stifling as kafka sat down near you, crossing her legs in an elegant fashion. her body heat radiated onto you, prompting you to slide over slightly to give her more room.

her lips quirked up, and she leaned towards you. "why so shy all of a sudden? it's just us." her voice was sultry as she wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into her side. she tugged you over to her side of the couch, gesturing for blade to join the both of you.

he was stoic, but he did what she asked, sitting next to both of you, putting you in between the hunters. you shrunk down, feeling their thighs touching yours.

kafka's hand trailed across your knee, up your thigh, your stomach, up past your chest to your chin. she gently held your chin for a moment, lifting it to make you meet her gaze.

"such a pretty little thing, aren't you?" she hummed to herself, gently tilting your face. she peered around you towards her partner. "don't you think so, bladie?" she turned your jaw to face him.

"she's...pretty." is all she could squeeze out of him. she tutted, shaking her head.

"aw, come on. if you keep talking like that, she's gonna think you hate her. tell her how you really feel." she probed, prompting a deep sigh from him.

you looked up at him expectantly, wide-eyed as he frowned. "she already knows what i think about her."

"oh, bladie's so stubborn, isn't he?" she turned you back towards her, her hand on your shoulder trailing down to your waist as she pulled you into her lap.

you knelt over her lap, facing her as she kept a grip on your chin. "such a pretty girl, and he says nothing at all. you deserve better, sweetheart."

"i already have you." comes your reply and she grins.

"oh? are you implying i'm better than him?" she teases and delights in how you immediately try to recover, but she shuts you up by squeezing your cheeks into a puffy pout. "don't sweat it. i already know that i am."

she glances towards blade who is now leaning forward, looking mildly irritated. "who said you're better than me?"

"she did." kafka answers. "unless you want to prove her wrong-"

without warning, he yanks you off her lap, pulling you closer. he holds you tenderly, albeit rather stiffly, on his lap, a hand on your back and another on your waist. he presses you against his chest, his hair tickling your neck.

he was never one to talk more than necessary, so he simply held you there before guiding your lips towards his. kafka grins cheekily at the sight, leaning closer to play with your hair while blade steals the air right from your lips.

"aren't you two just adorable." she gently pulls you back, hearing your soft pants before she kisses you deeper, licking over the seam of your lips.

while blade's kisses were firm and full of caged desire, kafka's were like passion out in the open. there was no reason for kafka to hide her lust for you, so why should she?

her tongue slid across yours, her thumb swiping over your cheek before blade grunted. "you're being greedy, kafka."

"can you blame me?" kafka asked as she pulled away, gently caressing your face. "or is it because someone's a little... pent up?"

her words caused you to glance down, neck heating up at the sight of blade's cock straining through his pants.

"all from a little kissing." kafka hid a laugh behind her hand as she leaned down, breath washing over your ear. "why don't you help our bladie out, hm?" she whispers.

your eyes never leave blade's as you nod, leaning down to free him from the confinements.

his size never failed to impress, even kafka could admit that. you leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip as blade let out a soft groan. you dragged your tongue from his base to the tip, traveling up one of the more prominent veins. the precum collecting at the tip was smeared across your lips, giving them a glossy, sticky appearance.

his hand found the back of your head, urging you to take more of him as your lips wrapped around his tip snugly. you slowly inched down, hearing rustling of fabric behind you.

once he hit a little too deep, you let out a little noise of discomfort. he allowed you to pull away a little, fingers flexing as he restrained himself. he let you find a comfortable rhythm, head tilting back as your mouth felt so warm and wet around him.

"such a good girl for us." kafka smiles, gently rubbing your back. "but i think we want to actually see you, sweetheart. come here." she urges you up, hearing the soft pop of blade leaving your mouth as you wipe the spit off your lips.

she tugs your night clothes off, leaving you bare for their eyes as she smiles, appraising you like a work of art. "you're gorgeous." she praises you sweetly, drawing you in for a kiss. her tongue drags over yours languidly, pulling whimpers from you as she drags you onto her lap.

blade fists his cock while he watches kafka smother you in affection, her hand gripping your hip firmly as she grinds you on her thigh. "you're so wet, sweetie. look at that." she coos, pulling you up enough to see your slick coating her thigh.

"i'm sorry-"

"shush, we love a messy little thing, don't we, bladie?" she tilts her head back to smirk at him. she turns right back to you, giving you her full attention. "i think he's getting desperate. why don't we get nice and cozy so we can all feel good." she taps your nose, laying you down before tugging her shorts off.

she rips a hole in her tights easily, settling over your face.

"no panties?" you ask and she laughs.

"what a bold little comment. you're feeling cheeky today, aren't you?" she pinches your cheek before lowering herself onto your tongue.

you feel blade pull your thighs up, spreading your cunt while he slides himself over your clit. you whimper into kafka, wide eyes finding hers as she laughs. "don't be so greedy. at least stretch her out a little first." she chastises blade.

she turns over her shoulder to watch him finger you. he's careful, diligent, ensuring you're ready to take his cock. she hums thoughtfully. "how does she feel?"

"tight....wet. she feels good." he answers, curling his fingers, making you moan into kafka's pussy. she grins, petting your head.

he withdraws his fingers slowly, sliding himself into you gently. his thumb rubs rough circles into your clit to ease the stretch, not wanting to break you just yet.

kafka rubs herself on your tongue, taking the pleasure as she wants it, enjoying your helpless little whimpers, your scrunched up expression as you try to adjust to blade's size.

she moans softly, grinding down while blade fucks you. he grabs your hips, yanking you towards him with each thrust, jostling kafka above you. she feels you feebly grabbing onto her thighs, trying to steady yourself from his rough movements.

"just a bit longer. let bladie feel good, and then i'll take care of you myself." she whispers, petting you.

she allows blade his time with you, letting him fuck you roughly. he prods into your g-spot, sending you spiraling while kafka cums onto your tongue.

once she recovers, she lays at your side, lapping over your nipples, sucking marks into your chest while blade uses you. though, before he can cum, she stops him.

"ah-ah, not inside." she warns, hearing him grunt, annoyed as he pulls out. he strokes himself to completion, spilling all over your stomach while kafka slides two fingers through it. "so thick today. go ahead and fetch my harness."

she smiles at you, wiping the cum off with her shorts before discarding them. blade returns like a puppy, handing her what she needs as you look up curiously. you're still twitching from the orgasm he gave you, yet kafka knows she can do better.

attaching her strap-on to the harness over her hips, she lets you take a good look at what she plans to use on you. it's pink, much like her abilities, and big. she seems to take pride in it, laying it on your stomach to show you how deep she'll be.

"aren't you just the cutest little thing." kafka sighs, kissing your neck, nipping at your chest before sliding her strap inside of you.

and, oh, do you moan for her. it's hot, tapering off into a needy whine as she rubs your clit. it feels different when she fucks you. as if she's using your body to prove a point. as if the only thing she needs to survive is your pleasure.

you thought blade would've disappeared, but he watches from the side, entranced by how well you take kafka, how you sing for her so beautifully. you might even say he's jealous on some level...

she materializes a leash around your neck, yanking at it to get your cunt to tighten up around her. she laughs at how pliant you are for her, easily falling to her whims. "good girl, that's it. just a little toy for me."

she fucks you with perfect precision and accuracy, hitting the spots she knows you love. she doesn't stop, fucking you right through your orgasms, even when you're reduced to mewling and whining beneath her. she merely wipes your tears, changing your position, shoving your head deeper into the pillows.

whatever she desires, she plans to take it from you, leaving you with nothing but dreams of her and her alone.

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making-you-in-spore · 1 year ago

Note

have you checked out / do you have any thoughts on any of the recent spore-like indie games? talking about stuff like The Sapling or Elysian Eclipse

i'm not really much of a gamer outside of a select few games i've been playing for years on end, but it's cool that people are trying to recapture the charm of spore. i support them fully, and i hope they make good games with their premise.

however, unless you're really truly dedicated to what spore is as a game, none of them are going to be spore 2. spore's creature creator is only one part of its genius - it is a community, creativity oriented game at its core, and an actual game second.

if the game you're making doesn't have the extensive creation power, procedural animations, randomly seeded creatures and creations, etc- it won't be spore 2. if you don't have the ability to implement your creations into someone else's game with something as simple as a png, it won't be spore 2.

if you don't have the goofy, bouncy, janky animations and personality of spore, it will not be spore 2.

spore may not have "lived up to its expectations" as people say. but it is an absolute marvel of video game engineering, especially for its time. nothing anyone has made has ever lived up to spore as we got it. i need to emphasize that all of the data for things you create is stored in png files in your documents folder.

these pngs alone store all the data for your creations. that's fucking brilliant, considering they're only a few kilobytes in size. my entire creature folder is less than 6mb in size.

spore is an infinitely huge game with some of the best file optimization practices i have ever seen, if not downright the best.

i don't think we'll ever get anything like this again in our lifetimes, and i both mourn and celebrate that. i sincerely hope that sporelikes take off and we eventually get one that almost captures the feeling of the original spore, but it won't be very likely in this lifetime.

i hope one day they prove me wrong, though.

#not spore #ask

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ew-selfish-art · 2 years ago

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Demon Twin AU

Tim Drake comes across a LOA manuscript detailing the sacrifice of a Demon Heir that’s dated around the time Damian is born and brings it to the cave. There’s no other mention of what went down, but it looks like Damian was a twin and the twin was thrown into the Lazaras Pits- Tim kind of forgets about it but shows it to Damian cause he figures that the guy deserves to know, and leaves it out for Bruce to see (basically the same thing as telling him). It doesn’t really change much but there is an obscured name in the corner so they can presume that the kid’s name would have been something starting with D A N.

Well here’s the thing: Names carry power. Damian reaches out to John Constantine to ensure that the child is actually dead, because presumably John can do that. John wants to give the kid some closure, so he does what is supposed to be a super chill seance to an infant. He pricks Robin’s finger, chants a little and the air... turns violent.

Uh oh. Dan appears, unshackled from his prison in the Infinite Realms now that John has called upon them by someone with Familial blood. He cackles madly about the fact that it’ll be a good time to bring about the apocalypse again, promising to spare the bird for now, since he would have to get answers later.

The alarms are blaring, the whole JL is hands on deck to try and stop Dan as he attacks across the globe. They’re saving as many civilian lives as possible but its getting very HAIRY in less than 2 hrs. Robin is out in the chaos, trying to track him down with John and Zatanna trying to recapture him and banish him back to the realms.

Phantom touches down just as the three of them reach Dan- Danny has some choice words for his older alternate timeline self, including “This is why you have no friends.” and “Seriously, you didn’t even stop to say hi to my timeline’s Jazz this time.” and “Soup time for 1,000 years and then we can talk remediation.”

After a short but brutal fight, Danny floats over to Damian, John and Z. After making sure they’re all right he’s like “Maybe you can never do that again? Also tell me how and why you did that so I can banish that spell?” And Damian explains that it was meant to ensure that the infant twin he never knew had passed peacefully and clearly that was not the case. Danny blinks a few times, uh, a twin?

Damian goes through the shit, John explains that it was a familial summoning meant to be an advanced seance (hence the lack of safe guards to keep the entity in) and Z confirms that there was nothing special to it beyond that.

Danny then explains, that uh, “I guess my parents weren’t kidding when they told me I was adopted. Hi? I’m your brother. Uh, I go by Danny though. Dan was me in a different timeline and he’s normally under super strict lockdown.”

#demon twin au #dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #damian wayne #Sometimes an apocalypse is the best way to bring a family together #fuck dan tho #I cannot stand his redemption arcs lmao #Damian is like god damn i really could have been way more evil if thats my twin #Danny is super excited that his bio family are all heroes #Danny throws shade at constantine of course #Damian and Danny naturally bond from that point onwards because like hey #neither of us are as evil or bad as we could be #how dope is that?#danny and damian are twins

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sylvestris123 · 2 years ago

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What does the pre-Fall scene actually mean?

I’ve been thinking about that first scene, with pre-Fall Crowley. We are all swooning over how sweet and innocent Angel!Crowley is, and how smitten Aziraphale is, but on reflection there is something odd about this scene.

The action takes place before the rebellion, before the Fall, when bad things hadn’t even been invented yet. So why is Aziraphale already worried about Angel!Crowley getting into trouble for asking questions? Shouldn’t he also be a cute innocent bundle of fluff without a care in the world?

There is a meta that examines this (sorry, I can’t find it, I’m useless at this), which comes to the conclusion that Aziraphale later on is suffering from guilt (that he might have unwittingly prompted Crowley to seek answers and hence fall), but this still doesn’t explain why Aziraphale knows that asking questions might be a Bad Idea, and Angel!Crowley doesn’t. After all, Angel!Crowley has apparently been working “very closely with Upstairs”. Shouldn’t he be a bit more clued up?

This leads me to think that there are 2 possible explanations for this.

1. Angel!Crowley has been so far out of things playing with stars that he really is clueless about everything (possible but doesn’t really match up to the Crowley that we know today).

2. This is not a true record of events.

Either: it is one of Aziraphale’s memories, but coloured by what he knows today, so the conversation that actually occurred might have been quite different. Maybe it is because of Aziraphale’s less than perfect recall, or maybe the memory was tweaked (e.g. by the Metatron) to emphasize the innocence of Angel!Crowley and the injustice of his later fall.

Or: IT NEVER EVEN HAPPENED AT ALL. Their true first meeting was as S1, on the walls of Eden, and it is all a false memory planted by the Metatron. (This could also explain why we don’t get to hear Angel!Crowley’s name. It’s not actually known, so can’t be added to the ‘memory’). Why would he do this? It could be to make Aziraphale think that Angel!Crowley was so full of joy that he should be reinstated to recapture that innocence.

There are plenty of theories about the other flashback episodes in the series, all of which could be interpreted as showing off Crowley’s 'good' side, to make the thought of his reinstatement as an angel more plausible or even necessary to right an ancient wrong.

If any or all of this is the Metatron’s doing, what is the motive? He clearly loathes Crowley. Maybe reinstatement as an angel would automatically wipe out his memories of being Crowley and all of his Earthly experience, so you would end up with a cute innocent (and ultimately useless) angel with no memories of his friendship with Aziraphale. Or perhaps it was a way to get him to come up to Heaven where he could be ambushed and imprisoned.

Or maybe the Metatron always knew that the very concept would go down like a lead balloon and that its aim was to make Aziraphale and Crowley part in such a way that they would be less likely to try to contact each other later.

There are so many pieces to this puzzle. Just when I think that a couple might go together I find others that don’t fit with the patterns already made, and which sometimes seem to belong to a different puzzle altogether. I’m sure that I already have 5 corner pieces.

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #good omens 2 #neil gaiman #good omens analysis #good omens meta #before the fall #Why is Aziraphale aware of bad things before they were invented #angel crowley #too many questions #good omens theories

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lupinqs · 7 months ago

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CHAPTER SEVEN ━━ Break In, Break Up, Break Out

☆ ━ pairing: hopkins!paige x oc (dani callan)

☆ ━ word count: 6.9K

☆ ━ warnings: slight mention of conversion therapy, usage of ��gayness” in a derogatory way, hella religious guilt

☆ ━ links: my masterlist, take me to church masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: nothing, just enjoy!

PAIGE HASN’T seen Dani since what happened in the darkroom, on Friday. She doesn’t blame her, though. Dani’s been through hell—months of suppressing herself, living in fear of being who she is, and all under the roof of the man who had sent her to fucking conversion therapy of all places. Paige has felt the weight of that knowledge settle in her chest like a stone all weekend. But she knows better than to push Dani for anything more, not now. Dani needs space, time to figure out her next steps, and Paige is willing to give her all the time in the world—especially now that she knows why.

Still, it doesn’t stop her from worrying. Every time she thinks about Dani living under the same roof as her dad, the man who tried to change her, a sick feeling twists in her stomach. She hasn’t said anything about it yet, though—she doesn’t know if she plans to. She just doesn’t want to overwhelm Dani, not when they’re barely starting to reconnect.

It’s Monday morning now, and Paige is rushing to AP Lit—her first period that has been the victim of her tardiness recently. She steps into the classroom just as the bell rings, thankful that she’s just on time. Mrs. Donovan is already at the front of the room, writing something on the board about their next project. Paige’s eyes automatically drift to the familiar spot in front of her—Dani’s seat.

And there she is.

Dani sits at her desk, brown hair falling over her shoulders, her fingers drumming lightly on the surface as if she might be lost in thought. When Paige walks past her to take her own seat behind her like always, their eyes meet.

Dani’s lips curve into a small, tentative smile. It’s barely more than a flicker, but to Paige, it feels like a flash of sunlight breaking through the clouds. Her heart leaps in her chest, racing far faster than it should for something so simple, but after weeks—months, really—of being ignored by Dani, even the smallest gesture feels like a lifeline.

Paige smiles back, hoping Dani can feel just how much that small connection means to her.

She sits down, her pulse still thrumming in her ears, trying to focus as Mrs. Donovan begins explaining the project. Paige glances at the back of Dani’s head, her mind reeling, though she quickly snaps her attention to the teacher. They’ve been reading The Great Gatsby for the past few weeks, and now it’s time to wrap up the unit with their final project.

“Alright, class,” Mrs. Donovan begins as she turns to face them, “for this project, I’m going to be assigning you partners. Together, you’ll create a poster analyzing one of the central themes or symbols from Gatsby.”

Paige’s gaze wanders back to Dani’s profile as Mrs. Donovan speaks. Her mind drifts to the book they’ve been studying—for once, she didn’t hate it. She actually read the whole thing instead of reading the chapter summaries on SparkNotes. Maybe it’s because those stupid themes of longing, desire, and unattainable dreams all feels eerily close to home. Maybe not. She swallows, wondering if Dani has ever thought of it that way. She wonders if she sees their relationship—whatever this is now—as an unreachable dream, just like Gatsby’s vision of Daisy.

“As you know,” Mrs. Donovan continues, “The Great Gatsby is filled with themes of illusion and reality, the corruption of the American Dream, and the idea of trying to recapture a lost past. I want you and your partner to explore one of these ideas in depth, using specific scenes from the novel to support your argument. Your poster should clearly show how your chosen theme or symbol is reflected in the text, and, if you want to, you can even make connections to modern-day issues or personal reflections.”

Paige’s heart thuds in her chest. Mrs. Donovan’s words echo in her head—illusion and reality, the corruption of dreams, trying to recapture a lost past. Maybe she’s been thinking too hard—she’s been doing that a lot lately—but the parallels to her situation with Dani are almost painfully obvious. Everything between them feels like chasing something that’s just out of reach, something real but constantly slipping through their fingers.

Mrs. Donovan scans the room, looking down at her list of names. “Okay, partners are as follows… Noa and Lucy… Sam and Katie… Paige and Dani…”

Paige feels her breath catch in her throat. Of course. Of course, she and Dani are partners. It’s not a bad thing—it’s just… a little more nerve-racking than it would have been a few months back. She can feel her pulse quicken again as she glances at Dani, who turns her head just slightly, catching Paige’s eye with a soft gaze. There’s a hint of something unspoken there, a flicker of uncertainty mixed with… something else. Paige can’t quite place it.

“Once you know who your partner is, you can spend the rest of class working on your analysis,” Mrs. Donovan says, gesturing to the students.

Paige gathers her things and shifts to the empty desk next to Dani, her nerves buzzing under her skin. Dani glances at her with that same tentative smile, and Paige swears her cheeks are tinged with the faintest blush.

“So, uh…” Dani starts, her voice quieter than usual. “Which theme do you think we should focus on?”

Paige considers for a moment, her mind running through everything they’ve studied in the book. Lost dreams, unattainable desires, illusions. But there’s one that sticks out more than the rest. “What about… the idea of finding and taking back a lost past? You know, like how Gatsby’s obsessed with recreating what he had with Daisy?”

Dani’s eyes flicker with something—understanding, maybe?—and she nods. “Yeah, that could work. He spends the whole book trying to hold onto something that’s already gone, even though it’s never gonna be the same.”

Paige’s heart twists a little at the truth of those words. Is that that not what she’s been doing with Dani? Hoping to get back what they had before, even though so much has changed?

Dani continues, her voice a little more confident now that they’ve settled on a theme. “We could talk about the green light too, right? How it symbolizes Gatsby’s hope, but also how it’s just this unattainable thing that he’ll never really have. We could connect that with the idea of longing for something that’s already out of reach.”

Paige nods, her throat tightening. “Yeah, that’s good. The green light.” She pauses, her eyes drifting down to the notebook in front of her. “It’s like he’s always reaching for somethin’ that’s just… too far away.”

Their conversation flows more easily after that, though there’s an almost shyness between them that’s never been there before. Both of them are careful, cautious, as if the slightest misstep might break whatever fragile thing has started to grow between them again. But there are moments—brief, fleeting—where Paige feels the old connection, the spark that’s always been there. The accidental brushes of their hands as they pass each other the notebook, the tiny smiles exchanged when they find something they both agree on—it’s enough to make Paige’s heart race in a way that feels all too familiar.

As they work, Paige can’t help but steal glances at Dani, the way her brows furrow when she’s concentrating, the way her lips quirk into a soft smile when they find a particularly insightful analysis. It’s like seeing a version of Dani she hasn’t in so long—open, thoughtful, the girl Paige has always known (and loved).

When the bell rings, the sound startled both of them out of their quiet focus. Paige looks up, blinking in surprise as the reality of the time hits her. “We’re definitely not going to finish this in class,” she says, a little breathless.

Dani laughs softly, and it’s like a balm to Paige’s soul. “Yeah, I didn’t think we would.”

Paige hesitates for a moment, her mind racing with possibilities. She knows Dani’s still working through everything, not wanting to get too close again especially so soon, but maybe this is Paige’s chance to spend time with her again. “Do you want to… maybe come over to my house later? I have practice, but we could work on it after?”

Dani blinks, surprised. Paige watches the hesitation, the uncertainty flick across her face as her mouth opens and closes, searching for an answer. Paige can guess why—Dani’s scared. And Paige is about to think that Dani’s going to refuse, but then the brunette nods slowly, her lips curving into another small smile. “Yeah… I’d like that.”

Paige’s heart flutters, and she can’t help the wide grin that spreads across her face. “Great. I’ll text when you come over, okay?”

“Okay,” Dani replies, her voice soft, but there’s something in her eyes—a warmth, a glimmer—that makes Paige feel like things might finally be starting to fall into place again.

DANI’S HEART pounds, her stomach in knots as she paces back and forth in her bedroom. The sun is dipped low, casting the room in the kind of dim light that makes everything feel heavier than it is. Any minute now, Paige will text her to come over so they can finish their Lit project. She tries to tell herself it isn’t a big deal—just schoolwork, nothing more. It certainly isn’t a date. It isn’t even really two friends hanging out. It’s just schoolwork. Strictly to finish their assignment.

So why does she feel like her stomach is in knots? She’s been to Paige’s house a billion times over the years. Just because it’s been a few months doesn’t mean anything’s changed, right?

But it has changed. It’s all changed.

She runs a hand through her hair, her fingers shaking. Maybe she should cancel. Paige won’t hold it against her, right? She can just make up an excuse, say something came up. Lie. She can lie and stay in her room, burying herself in the Bible that sits on her bookshelf, pretending like she isn’t still thinking about Paige all the time, in that way. Pretending that her heart isn’t tearing itself apart.

Dani lets out a shaky breath and stops pacing, her hand drifting up to the cross necklace around her neck. The cool metal feels grounding in a way, like it’s tethering her to something larger than herself. Her father always says that God will give her strength, that if she prays enough, follows the rules, and sticks to the path, things will work out.

But the path feels so blurry now. What does strength even mean when every day feels like a battle inside her own head?

Her eyes drift to the crucifix on her wall, then once more to the Bible resting on the shelf. God doesn’t approve, she thinks, the words like a drumbeat in her mind. It isn’t just God either. She knows how her dad feels. She’s known from the moment he sent her to camp, from the moment he handed her over to people who told her she could be “fixed.”

But how can she be fixed when she isn’t even sure what’s broken?

Paige isn’t the problem. That much Dani knows. Paige has never been the problem, no matter how much the counselors or Dani’s father told her she was. It’s Dani that’s the problem. It’s her mind, her heart, her inability to let go of everything her father has drilled into her for years. She’s tried to be who he wants her to be. She’s tried to be the perfect daughter, the good Catholic girl who follows all the rules.

But nothing feels right anymore. Not when she’s spent an entire five months being torn apart from the inside out. Not when she can’t even look at herself in the mirror without feeling a deep sense of guilt she can’t shake.

She tugs on the cross hanging from her neck, feeling the familiar weight pressing against her chest. This is wrong, she tells herself again, but the words feel empty. It’s the words that feel wrong now, not everything else.

Because if it’s so wrong, why does it feel so right when Paige smiles at her? Why does her heart race whenever Paige looks at her like she’s the only person in the room? And why, despite everything, does she still want to go over there tonight? And maybe every other night?

Dani’s stomach churns as she glances at her phone, wondering if Paige is even going to text her at all. Maybe she changed her mind. Maybe it’s a bad idea to work together at all. They aren’t the same people they used to be, and things aren’t just going to magically fall back into place because of a stupid project.

She wants to cancel, she really does. It’s too confusing, too much to handle. But then what? She’ll sit here in her room, staring at the cross, thinking about Paige and how impossible it is to be near her but even more impossible to be without her. It’s a torturous cycle Dani can’t escape, no matter how much she prays or how hard she tries to push the thoughts away.

God doesn’t approve. The words echo again, louder this time. Dani’s fingers tighten around the necklace, her breath shallow as she stands in the middle of her room, paralyzed by indecision. She knows what her father would say. He would tell her to cancel, to stay away from Paige, to keep herself on the “right path.”

But what if she doesn’t want to stay on that path anymore?

What if she doesn’t even know where it leads?

Before she can spiral any further, a soft thud against her window pulls her from her thoughts. And then another. Dani blinks, startled, her heart jumping in her chest. She frowns, walking over to the window and pulling back the curtain. Her eyes widen in surprise when she looks down to see Paige standing in the yard, tossing tiny pebbles up at her window.

Paige grins up at her, looking a little sheepish but undeniably amused with herself. Her hair is damp and wavy, falling loose around her shoulders, and she’s wearing a Hopkins basketball long-sleeve with grey sweatpants—clearly fresh from practice and a shower. The sight of her makes Dani’s stomach flip. Dani digs a nail into her palm for the way her brain immediately dings with the thought of how good Paige looks.

“What are you doing?” Dani calls out, incredulous, though she can’t help the small smile tugging at her lips.

Paige shrugs, her grin widening. “Sorry about the rocks,” she says, a bit bashfully. “But, uh, you still have my number blocked. And my Snap. And my Instagram. And I didn’t want to knock on your door. Figured your dad probably wouldn’t love seeing me on the Ring camera.”

Dani’s stomach flips at the mention of her dad. She feels a wave of guilt, her mind instantly jumping to what he’d say if he knew Paige was outside her window. But at the same time, Paige’s grin is so disarming, so warm, that it makes everything else seem a little less suffocating.

Paige gestures to her house, right, next door, and flashes that same lopsided smile that makes Dani’s chest ache. “You can come over whenever now.”

Dani stands frozen at the window, her thoughts warring with each other, but before she can stop herself, she calls back, “Yeah, okay, I’ll be down in a sec.”

She closes the window, her heart racing as she grabs her things and heads downstairs, her fingers brushing against the cross necklace one last time before she opens the door to meet Paige outside.

They don’t say much as they start walking next door to Paige’s house. It isn’t a long walk—barely thirty seconds, given how their houses stand so close together. Yet, every step feels like it’s taking Dani deeper into a situation she isn’t ready to face.

Paige’s shoulder brushes against hers as they walk, sending a jolt of electricity down Dani’s spine. She stiffens, her heart skipping a beat. For a split second, she wants to lean into Paige’s warmth, to let that connection stay, to give into that sense of closeness she hasn’t let herself feel in months. But just as quickly, the urge to pull away surges inside her. Every alarm in her head screams at her to keep her distance, to remember what’s at stake, to remember how wrong it all is.

But Dani does neither. She doesn’t lean into Paige, nor does she pull away. She just keeps walking, her eyes fixed on the ground in front of her as they make their way up the driveway to Paige’s front door.

When they step inside, the warm glow of the house envelopes them, and Dani immediately hears the sounds of a football game coming from the living room. Paige’s dad, Bob, lounges on the couch, eyes glued to the TV. The moment the door closes behind them, though, he turns his head, clearly expecting to see Paige alone.

When his gaze lands on Dani standing beside her, a flicker of surprise crosses his face. Dani’s stomach tightens as she sees the confusion in his eyes, realizing how strange it must be for him to see her here after months of silence. She hasn’t exactly made it easy on Paige, and by extension, on him either. But just as quickly as the confusion appears, it fades into a warm grin.

“Well, look who it is!” Bob exclaims, his voice full of the same kindness that’s always made Dani feel like she belongs here with the Bueckers. “Dani Callan! I thought you forgot where we lived. How you been?” His teasing tone holds no bitterness, only affection, and Dani feels a knot she hadn’t even realized was there loosen in her chest.

“Hi, Bob,” Dani replies, managing a smile. “I’ve been, um… I’ve been good. How’re you?”

“Good, good,” Bob nods, sitting up a bit straighter. “It’s been a while, huh? You girls getting some schoolwork done tonight?”

“Yeah, we’ve got a project due soon,” Dani answers, her voice steady, but the warmth in her chest remains. Bob has always been easy to talk to, the kind of dad who seems to genuinely care about what’s going on in his daughter and her friends’ lives. Unlike Dani’s own father, who’s much more reserved and strict, and has no room for anyone who doesn’t fit the mold he wants. For years, Bob has been like a second father to her, always offering an easy smile, a playful joke, and the kind of acceptance she craves so desperately at home.

It feels strange to stand here now, knowing how much she’s pulled away from all of it. But seeing that he doesn’t hate her for it—doesn’t even seem mad—is a small comfort. He’s still the same Bob, welcoming her back like no time has passed at all.

Before she can get too caught up in the moment, she feels a gentle pressure on her back. Paige’s hand is there, pushing her ever so slightly towards the stairs. “Alright, Dad, we gotta lock in,” Paige says, her voice casual, but Dani can feel the spark from Paige’s touch traveling through her body like a current.

Dani’s breath catches for a moment, her senses heightening from the simple contact. The warmth of Paige’s hand lingers long after it’s left her back, and she finds herself biting her lip, trying to control the whirlwind of emotions it stirs up inside her.

As she steps away from the living room, Dani catches Bob sending Paige a curious, almost quizzical look, like he’s trying to piece something together. She isn’t sure what it meant, but Paige’s sharp glare and the quick shake of her head that follows makes it clear that Paige doesn’t want to discuss whatever is running through her dad’s mind.

Dani respectfully pretends not to notice, keeping her gaze straight ahead as they climb the stairs to Paige’s room. She doesn’t ask what the silent exchange was about, doesn’t press for any explanation. Instead, she focuses on the task at hand—the project they’re supposed to be working on.

As they reached the top of the stairs, Dani tries to calm the storm of feelings swirling inside her. It isn’t easy, not when Paige is this close, not when the past few months of distance between them suddenly feels like they’re collapsing in on themselves. But Dani does her best, forcing herself to focus on what is important.

They’re just here to work. Nothing more. Or at least, that’s what she needs to keep telling herself.

When Dani reaches Paige’s room, she hesitates for a second in the doorway before stepping inside. It hasn’t changed much in the months since Dani last saw it. The bed, with its white comforter and a few basketball jerseys thrown haphazardly over the footboard, takes up most of the space. A desk, cluttered with textbooks, a laptop, and some old Gatorade bottles, is tucked in the corner. Posters of basketball players—Maya Moore, Sue Bird, Kobe Bryant—still line the walls, and there’s a worn basketball resting on the windowsill, sunlight catching its faded leather.

Paige drops her backpack near the desk and gestures to the bed. “We can work here. More room to spread everything out,” she says casually, already pulling out the materials for their project. She’s moving around the room with ease, like nothing’s out of the ordinary, like the weight of everything between them isn’t bearing down on them both.

Dani, on the other hand, feels like she’s walking on eggshells. She crosses the room slowly, sitting on the edge of the bed, her hands tightening around the straps of her backpack before she lets it fall to the floor. She watches as Paige plops down on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, stretching her long legs out across the mattress.

For a brief moment, Dani can’t help but notice how comfortable Paige looks, her confidence and ease. She’s always had that about her—this effortless way of taking up space, like she belongs everywhere she goes. It’s one of the things Dani’s always admired about her.

“Okay, so I was thinking we could start with this quote,” Paige says, breaking Dani’s thoughts as she leans forward, flipping through The Great Gatsby. “I think it connects to the main theme pretty well, and it’s, like, kinda poetic, right? Teachers eat that shit up.”

Dani chuckles softly, more to ease her own nerves than anything else. “Yeah, they do. But if you’re gonna try to sell this as poetic, I’m the one doing the writing. Your handwriting is tragic, Paige.”

Paige looks up, mock-offended. “Hey! It’s not that bad.”

Dani raises an eyebrow, fighting back a smirk. “Drew is seven, and I think his is better than yours.”

Paige’s shakes her head, face breaking into a grin, and she tosses a balled-up sock at Dani. “You’re so mean.”

Dani laughs as she dodges the sock, some of the tension loosening in her chest. The teasing feels like old times—like before everything got so complicated. It’s easy, comfortable, and for a second, Dani lets herself enjoy it.

They settle into the work, spreading the poster board out on the bed between them. Dani takes the Sharpie, naturally assuming the role of the one in charge of writing, while Paige flips through their book, looking for quotes and points to add.

For a while, it feels almost normal. Paige is talking, rambling about how stupid it is Mrs. Donovan is for assigning such a tedious project on top of all their other assignments, and Dani merely listens, her focus split between writing and keeping herself from staring too long at Paige. But as they fall into a rhythm, Dani becomes aware of how close Paige is sitting, their knees brushing occasionally, Paige’s arm resting against hers as she points out things to add to the poster.

And then, Dani feels it—Paige’s breath, warm against the side of her face. She’s leaning in, watching Dani write something down, her face hovering close, too close. Dani’s heart skips a beat, her hand faltering for a split second before she forces herself to keep writing. But it’s hard—so fucking hard—because all she can think about is how close Paige is, how their proximity makes her skin tingle, how she’s suddenly hyper-aware of every movement, every shift in the air between them.

Paige doesn’t seem to notice—at least, not at first. She’s just watching Dani’s hand move across the poster board, her focus seemingly on the project. But then, Dani turns her head just slightly, feeling the heat of Paige’s breath on her cheek, and she makes the mistake of meeting Paige’s eyes.

Everything stops.

For a moment, it feels like time freezes, and all Dani can see is Paige—those bright blue eyes, intense and unwavering, locked onto hers. Dani’s heart races, pounding so hard she’s sure Paige can hear it. And then, Paige’s gaze flickers, dropping down to Dani’s lips, and Dani feels her stomach twist painfully, every nerve in her body screaming at her to just do it. To close the gap, to kiss her, to finally stop pretending.

But she can’t.

She can’t.

Dani’s head is spinning, the weight of everything crashing down on her all at once. Her body wants to lean in, to give in to the pull between them, but her mind—her mind is a storm of guilt, of shame, of fear.

It’s wrong.

It’s all wrong.

So she pulls away, turning her head sharply and forcing her gaze back down to the poster, her hand gripping the Sharpie so tightly it hurts. Her heart is still racing, her body still trembling with the aftermath of what almost happened. But she forces herself to focus, to breathe, to keep going as if nothing had just passed between them.

She hears Paige let out a long, quiet breath beside her, and then, softly, “I’m sorry.”

The words hang in the air between them, heavy with meaning. Dani feels them settle deep in her chest, a mix of relief and regret swirling together in a confusing mess of emotions. Paige’s apology is genuine—Dani can hear it in her voice—but it only makes things harder. Because the truth is, Dani isn’t sorry at all.

She’s only sorry that she pulled away.

And that’s the worst part.

Dani doesn’t look up. She doesn’t trust herself to. Instead, she murmurs, “It’s okay,” though she knows it’s not. Nothing about this is okay. But what else can she say?

They fall back into an uneasy silence after that, the weight of what almost happened still thick in the air. Dani focuses on finishing the poster, her hand moving mechanically, trying to pretend like her mind isn’t still reeling. Paige, for her part, stays quiet too, though Dani can feel her shifting beside her, can sense the tension in her body.

Finally, when the poster is nearly complete, Paige clears her throat, breaking the silence. “You, uh… you coming to the game tomorrow?” she asks, her voice casual, like she’s trying to lighten the mood.

Dani blinks, the sudden question catching her off guard. “The game?”

“Yeah. Season opener for both the boys’ and girls’ teams,” Paige says, her tone a little brighter now. “I thought you knew.”

Dani shakes her head, feeling a bit dazed. “No, I didn’t know.”

Paige gasps dramatically, her eyes widening in mock horror. “Dani! How could you not know? This is, like, the most important night of the school year so far!”

Dani can’t help but smile a little, despite herself. “I guess I’ve been… distracted.”

“Well, now you know,” Paige says, grinning at her. “And you have to come. Everyone’s going to be there, and you’ll get to watch me hoop. And, y’know, dominate.”

Dani rolls her eyes, but the playful banter eases some of the tension that’s been hanging between them. “Maybe,” she says, her tone noncommittal, though she’s already thinking about it. About seeing Paige out on the court, in her element, the way she always is.

Paige nudges her with her shoulder, her touch light and playful. “Come on. You know you want to.”

Dani shakes her head, trying not to smile. “We’ll see.”

But even as she says it, she knows she’ll be there. When it comes to Paige, even if she doesn’t want to be, she always is.

DANI’S STARTING to wish she didn’t come. She stands in the student section, squeezed between Beau and his friends, the noise of the gym around them loud and chaotic. The boys’ basketball game is in full swing, and Beau’s friends are hyped up, yelling and laughing. Beau’s arm is loosely draped over her shoulders, but it feels heavy, like a weight she can’t shake off.

She tries to focus on the game—basketball has always been something she’s enjoyed, not just because of Paige, but because she grew up around it. Paige’s passion for the sport had bled into Dani over the years, so watching a game, especially when the stakes are high, has always been something she genuinely likes.

But Beau is being obnoxious. They’ve been bickering the whole night, subtle digs and passive-aggressive comments about stupid things, and Dani’s patience is already running thin. Every time he opens his mouth, she feels herself getting more annoyed, his voice grating on her nerves.

“Why are you even getting mad?” Beau snaps, his tone sharp but low enough that his friends don’t catch it. “It’s not that deep, Dani.”

She grits her teeth, keeping her eyes on the court. “I’m not mad, I’m just—” She cuts herself off, shaking her head. It’s not worth it. Not here, not in front of everyone.

The boys’ game is nearing the end, and Hopkins is winning. The student section is electric, buzzing with excitement as the clock winds down. Dani tries to get into it, cheering with the rest of them as the final buzzer sounds and the boys secure their win. Beau and his friends are all high-fiving, acting like they had something to do with it, and Dani plays along, smiling tightly.

But the second the boys’ game is over, Beau grabs her hand. “Let’s get outta here,” he says, already pulling her out of the student section.

Dani blinks, pulling her hand back. “What? The girls’ game hasn’t even started yet.”

Beau frowns, clearly unimpressed. “Yeah, and? Girls’ basketball is boring.”

Liam, one of Beau’s friends, overhears and looks at them, eyebrows raised. “Bro, what? No, it’s not. They won states last year.”

Dani crosses her arms, glaring at Beau. “Exactly. Hopkins’ girls’ team is legit, and Paige—”

“Bueckers is a dawg on the court, for real,” Liam adds, cutting in. “I know you don’t fuck with her for whatever reason, but come on, man, we’re supposed to be running the student section. Everyone’s staying for the girls’ game.”

Beau rolls his eyes, clearly irritated. He stares at Liam with his lips pursed for a moment, before his eyes flick down to Dani. They’re asking a silent question.

Dani raises her eyebrows at him, her voice cool. “I’m staying.”

Beau stares at her for a second longer, then sighs loudly, like he’s making some huge sacrifice. “Fine. Whatever.” He flops back down in his seat with an exaggerated groan, and Dani fights the urge to roll her eyes.

The girls’ game is about to start, and Dani can already feel the shift in energy. The stands are still full, and the Hopkins crowd is as loud as ever. When the girls’ team comes out onto the court, led by Paige, the cheers erupt again, the student section losing its mind.

Dani’s eyes immediately find Paige. It’s impossible not to. Paige moves with this effortless confidence, her face all focus and determination as she leads her team through warm-ups. The way she dribbles, the way she commands the court—it’s something Dani’s always admired, even if she’d never admit it out loud. Paige is great—better than great, honestly.

The game starts, and Dani locks in, watching as Paige takes control of Hopkins’ offense, setting the pace and threading passes that seem impossible. The whole team is clicking, and it’s easy to see why they’re such a powerhouse.

It’s not just Paige, Dani tells herself. She’s genuinely interested in the game.

But deep down, she knows that’s a lie.

Her eyes keep finding the blonde—how she cuts to the basket, how she dishes out assists, how every movement is calculated and precise. It’s hard to look away. There’s something magnetic about Paige when she’s playing, like she’s exactly where she belongs.

Just when Dani is fully absorbed in the game, Beau nudges her with his elbow. “You seriously like this?” he mutters under his breath.

Dani’s jaw tightens. “Yeah, I do,” she snaps back, her voice low but sharp. She doesn’t need this right now, not when she’s finally getting into the game.

Beau scoffs, shaking his head. “It’s so slow. No dunks, no excitement. I don’t get it.”

Dani’s patience is wearing thin. “I like it because it’s good basketball, Beau.”

He gives her a look, his lips curving into a smirk that she immediately hates. “Yeah, sure.”

She turns away from him, trying to ignore how irritated she feels, but Beau doesn’t let up. “You know, if you didn’t have a weird thing for Bueckers, maybe you’d see how boring this is.”

Dani’s stomach twists at the mention of Paige, and she sends him a sharp glare. “I don’t have a thing for her,” she mutters, her voice tight, but even she doesn’t believe the words.

Beau just laughs, clearly enjoying the fact that he’s getting under her skin. “Right. You’ve been staring at her this whole game.”

Dani digs a nail into the palm of her hand. “Just drop it, okay?”

“Whatever,” he mumbles, eyes returning to the game with such a disinterest that it makes Dani want to slap him.

Dani’s heart is racing now, a mix of anger and anxiety bubbling up in her chest. She’s not defensive—she just… she just likes watching a good game. That’s it. It has nothing to do with Paige. But the more Beau talks, the harder it is to convince herself of that.

Beau leans in closer, his voice lowering. “If you wanna stay for her, fine. But don’t pretend like this isn’t about her.”

Dani turns to him, her eyes narrowing. “You know what? I don’t need this right now.”

Beau’s smirk falters slightly, but he shrugs. “Whatever, Dani. You’re the one getting all worked up.”

Dani exhales slowly, forcing herself to look back at the game, but the moment is ruined. She can’t focus on the court anymore, can’t enjoy the way Paige is commanding the floor. All she can feel is Beau’s eyes on her, the weight of everything he’s implying pressing down on her.

Paige makes a slick pass to one of her teammates, and the crowd roars, but Dani barely registers it. She’s too distracted, too pissed off at Beau, and all she wants to do is yell at him, tell him to shut up, to stop ruining this for her.

Beau starts bouncing on his feet, clearly agitated, needing something to do. He leans over Dani to say to Liam, who sits next to her, “Man, this shit is so fuckin’ boring.”

Liam gives him a look, responding with, “Nah, it’s entertaining as hell. Quit being like that, bro.”

Beau rolls his eyes at his friend’s answer before his gaze returns to his girlfriend, and he mutters, “This game doesn’t even matter.”

Dani’s heart pounds in her chest, her frustration boiling over. “Yes, it does,” she hisses, turning to face him. “Have you not noticed that everyone but you likes watching them play? You’re acting like a misogynistic dick.”

Beau just laughs, shaking his head in what Dani thinks is disbelief. “You know, I really don’t get it, Dani,” he says, tongue poking at his cheek. “You used to be so fun. Now you’re just—”

“Just what?” she snaps, her voice louder than she intended. Several people in the student section glance over at them, but Dani doesn’t care.

“Forget it,” Beau mutters, looking away, but Dani’s had enough.

“No, say it,” she demands, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “What am I, Beau?”

He glares at her, his jaw tightening. “You’re pathetic. That’s what. Sitting here pretending you care about this stupid game just because your little crush is out there running the court.”

Dani’s breath catches in her throat, anger flaring hot and fast. “God, you’re such an asshole.”

Beau snorts, rolling his eyes. “Oh, I’m the asshole? You’ve been acting weird as hell for weeks!”

Before she can even think of a response, he stands up, making a move like he’s going to leave. “I’m done with this shit. Let’s just go.”

Dani’s had enough. Every word that comes out of his mouth feels like a punch to the gut, and the way he’s looking at her right now—like she’s some kind of burden—makes her want to scream. She can feel her pulse in her temples, the frustration clawing at her, and she can’t take it anymore.

“Fine,” she says, her voice clipped as she grabs her jacket off the bleacher. “Let’s go.”

She storms out of the student section, Beau right on her heels, muttering under his breath. The second they’re outside, the cold air hits her like a slap in the face. It’s dark now, the night settling in over the high school, and the quiet around them makes every word that follows feel louder, sharper.

“Jesus, what the hell is your problem?” Beau snaps, his voice echoing as they walk past the athletic entrance.

Dani spins around, her eyes blazing. “My problem? You’ve been a dick all night, Beau. I’m trying to have a good time, and all you do is bitch about everything. Why can’t you just—” She breaks off, throwing her hands up in frustration. “Why can’t you just be normal for one fucking night?”

He takes a step closer, his eyes narrowed. “Maybe I wouldn’t be pissed off if you weren’t so obvious about how much you still care about her. Y’know, I thought you were done with her. But it seems like her gayness is still rubbing off on you!”

Dani flinches, his words hitting too close to home. “This isn’t about Paige,” she lies, her voice cracking slightly.

Beau scoffs, his arms crossing over his chest. “Bullshit, Dani. It’s always about Paige with you. And it’s always about you with Paige. Do you know how many times she’s talked to me about you like some protective girlfriend? As if you’re dating her instead of me!”

“She and I aren’t fucking dating!” Dani yells, her frustration boiling over. “We hardly even speak any more, Jesus Christ! She’s only so protective because we’ve been best friends since we were kids, and she can probably tell how shit of a boyfriend you are!”

He shakes his head, his jaw clenched. “Bull-fucking-shit,” he denies, narrowing his eyes at her. “You’re not just friends with her, and we both know it.”

Dani freezes ever so slightly, her heart thudding in her chest. The accusation hangs in the air between them, thick and suffocating. Beau’s staring at her, his eyes hard, waiting for her to deny it, but she can’t. She doesn’t say anything, her mind racing, and in that silence, she knows that he knows.

“See?” Beau says bitterly, throwing his arms out. “You can’t even deny it.”

“I don’t—” Dani starts, but her voice falters. She doesn’t know what to say. She doesn’t even know how to process what’s happening. All she knows is that she’s so tired. Tired of pretending, tired of fighting, tired of this relationship that’s been falling apart ever since it started.

Beau shakes his head, turning away like he’s about to walk off. “I don’t know why I even bother anymore.”

Dani’s chest tightens, and before she can stop herself, she blurts out, “Then don’t.”

Beau stops, his back still to her, and when he turns around, his face is set in a hard, bitter expression. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Dani takes a deep breath, the cold air stinging her lungs. “I don’t want to do this anymore, Beau. I can’t keep pretending like we’re good, because we’re not.”

His eyes flash with anger, but there’s something else there too—something like hurt. “So that’s it? You’re just gonna throw this all away because of her?”

Dani shakes her head, keeping her gaze firm. “This isn’t for her,” she responds. “This is for me. And I think this might be for you, too. You’re not happy; I’m not happy. We’ve been done for a while, and you know it.”

Beau stares at her for a long moment, and then he laughs—a pungent, humorless sound. “Fine. I don’t give a shit anymore.”

He turns on his heel, walking away, and Dani watches him go, her breath fogging in the cold night air. She should feel something—regret, sadness, anything—but all she feels is relief. A strange, dizzying sense of freedom washes over her as Beau disappears into the dark.

She stands there for a moment, staring at the empty parking lot, her heart still racing. The night is quiet now, the only sound the distant hum of the game still going on inside. And for the first time in a long time, Dani feels like she can finally breathe.

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