#and was passed down to him by his father by his father before him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

winwintea · 21 hours ago

Text

dreamies meeting their kid for the first time + as a parent

GROUP ↬ ot7 dream x reader (ft. their child)

TAGS/WARNINGS ↬ some angst, LOTS OF FLUFF MY TOOTH IS LITERALLY ROTTING, spider-mark agenda is real, the child is sometimes a cockblock, haechan does some weird michael jackson-sherlock holmes roleplay idk it made sense in my head, jaemin going on shopping sprees, chenle never loses, ji... is ji.... (poor baby)

AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ everyone say thank you to @https-lvesick for getting me on that baby fever stuff... like i hate children but i love children. iykwim... anyways this is meeting their kid for the first time, but i can't come up with reasons why they were separated so you fill in the blanks. probably angsty reasons i love angst.

Mark Lee

when you come back through that door with a child holding your hand, it’s him you meet first again, and the tears are already glossing his eyes over before you can say anything.

literally has no words when you smile at him gently, saying it’s his.

mark swallows nervously, before making his way to the both of you, holding the two of you in his arms for only god knows how long.

“i.. can’t wait to live my life with you both, my love,” he mumbles into your hair, ears slightly tinged, only causing you to laugh at his adorable antics.

as a father, he isn’t very strict, and he isn’t all that good in child-rearing, either.

but he tries! give him some slack — you have to keep reminding yourself of this when you see your child holding a sword?!

and of course mark was in his halloween costume. typical.

“baby.. i can explain,” mark says calmly when you first find the two of them

well actually, three; it seems haechan was in on this little practice, though he quickly bolted when he saw you. good strategy.

“엄마, papa said he was iron man! he teached me how to be a superhero!” your child exclaims, flailing the sword around excitedly as your gaze only darkens.

“well, you see, i meant spider-man, but—” his words die down when he sees your unimpressed face practically dripping with murderous intent.

mark slowly kneels down to whisper something you couldn't make out to your child. the little one nods seriously, slowly putting down the weapon.

then, as seconds pass, mark immediately hoists your child up in his arms, running out of the room as both his laughter and your child’s squeals echo throughout the halls.

“mark min-hyung lee, you are so dead!” you scream, running after them.

“3, 2, 1 — I COULD DO THIS ALL DAY!” the two of them scream back, before bursting into laughter. they’re always in sync. It’s exasperating.

but you love it anyways

Huang Renjun

when you meet him at the door, there's a flurry of emotions clear on renjun's face, but his smile says it all.

“is it too much to say i’ve been waiting for you this whole time?”

regrets the fact that he wasn’t able to be a part of his child’s life for the first few years, literally becomes wrapped around your little one’s finger because of it.

so adorable and happy that he’s blessed with your lovely child, always smiling when he thinks of them.

literally makes the other members question whether or not they want a child too.

bonding time is painting of course!

usually ends up with all three of you cramped in the shower, you scrubbing furiously at the sticky paint on their skin.

“i’m sorry for having you do this all the time,” renjun's soft voice makes you forget why you were mad in the first place tbh.

massages your shoulders from behind you, causing your fingers to halt in their journey of rubbing some stubborn blue paint off your child.

“it’ll take more than that if you wanna make it up to me,” you hum, leaning back into his chest and gazing into his eyes.

your lips were just about to meet, when —

“ma, i'm not clean yet!”

damn. cockblocked by your own child.

you groan, renjun laughing as he picks up the pouting child with their arms crossed.

“don’t give 妈妈 too much of a hard time, okay?” he never forgets to take care of you above all.

Lee Jeno

when you walk through that door once more, nervously telling jeno that this child is his, you’re afraid of his reaction.

and when you finally gather the courage to do it? his jaw drops and he can’t stop staring at you nor the child and you have to help him sit and calm down.

“아빠?” your child asks, staring up at the still slightly panicked jeno as you hold your breath.

he stares for a moment, mouth wide, before finally, finally smiling, albeit a little awkward and rough around the edges. “yes, little one?”

very new to this whole parenting thing and can barely do anything without asking you first, so he feels bad quite often for having to lean on you so much.

plus he barely knows how to handle a sobbing child, nor can he entertain the child very well,

but you find that the both of them are quite content in each other’s presence as is. so that's a plus !

you'll usually find them in jeno's room together, while you need jeno to watch your child while you go out for an errand or something.

but when you see jeno, well, he starts to look ethereal as the sun shines through the windows in his room.

then, a gentle smile gracing his face as he stares at his sleeping child.

jeno utters your name, causing you to look up, only to find him tracing circles around your child’s soft skin. “딸,” he rasps out, cracking a bleary eye open and gripping their wrist softly. Then, he smiles, all sorts of soft and lovely and.. unguarded.

“You two.. are the best things that have happened to me.”

Lee Donghyuck

haechan tries swallowing back the lump in his throat when he sees you standing in front of that damned door, though to no avail as a tear slips.

starts full-on crying when you say that you’re back for good and that the child is his. it's okay, let it out hyuck. <3

“ah, crying like that on our first meeting… don’t you think your fath — i’m a bit embarrassing?” he asks, sniffling as he tries to muster a smile through his tears.

your child giggles, eyes crinkling while grinning. “no! mommy told me a whooooole lot about you, daddy!”

you have to intervene at this point to stop him from sobbing again.

haechan wastes no time in making up for what he’s missed, so he's definitely going to spoil this child every second that he can.

you’d always find the two of them either going out shopping or messing about at home

also probably just chilling in the comforts of his room, doing god knows what.

one day you were curious, so you peeked through a tiny crack of the open door.

genuinely concerned at what you saw.

was that a... trenchcoat on your child? the two of them were engaged in conversation as haechan started nodding with a serious look on his face.

“so, mj, do you think waffles make mummy happier?” your child asks, holding his magnifying glass up like a mic in front of haechan's face.

mj???

haechan strokes his chin for a moment, before answering, “seeing her reaction when we gave her the ones we bought yesterday, i dee-hee duce they do, sherlock!”

sherlock...?

“good deduck – deduction, mj! i thought so too.”

you can't help but snort as haechan grabs his crotch and poses while high fiving your child.

as stupid as this was, your heart literally melts. the two are far too cute for you, you having to calm yourself before walking in with the widest smile on your face. dorks.

Na Jaemin

“i was hoping you’d be back, my dear.” his perfunctory smile is so smug that sometimes you just want to punch him in the face. “with a lovely little thing in hand.”

“Your lovely little thing,” you say gently, trying to ignore your anger. you were here to show your child to jaemin. jaemin looks at the two of you with surprise, the curves of his mouth inching upwards.

hey jaemin wasn't trying to be possessive... cause that's weird. but the way you emphasized the word 'your' made his breath hitch. we can unpack that later though.

for now, na jaemin is a certified sugar daddy

jaemin is wrapped around the little one’s finger, his rotten spoiling being the effect of not being in your child’s life for a good while, and, of course, his indispensable regret for having you come back to him.

you asked jeno the whereabouts of your lover and your child, only for him to give you the look, responding that they were out yet again, and are probably not coming back without a few shopping bags in hand.

okay something needed to be done about this. so you decided to conduct a harmless experiment.

placing a few coins on one side of his desk, a toy in the middle, and a beloved fruit on the side. after explaining to him that it’s to see what your child’s fate would be — picking between fortune, fun, and, well, snacks, you think — he simply leans back, interest shining in those eyes of his.

but your child pushes all these away in a second, opting to hug the wide-eyed man on the soft armchair behind the desk.

“and what.. does this mean, ma chérie?” fuck him and the words he's picked up from traveling abroad. but jaemin looked honestly confused as his hands slowly wrap around your child’s.

you smile softly, “isn’t it obvious, silly? the little rascal loves you more than anything.”

he laughs. he doesn't get it. preparing for yet another shopping spree. why do you even try at this point?

Zhong Chenle

oh my god. when he first sees you after years with a child, his child, grasping your hand, chenle has to literally take a quick second to calm down cause he’s so angry.

no, not at you, of course, he would never. but at himself.

he wasn’t there for his child, for you, and god, even if he were, would he have been a good father?

“Y/ — 甜心,” he starts, running his fingers through his already messy bed-head hair and staring at you with eyes that practically scream "please hug me, i'm insecure"

“how am i supposed to take care of a child when i couldn’t even take care of you?”

but don't worry, after many reassuring words and warm hugs, chenle's finally okay and back to his normal self, holding your child up and giggling.

maybe this was a wrong idea cause now you have to take care of a manchild and a child.

is surprisingly very gentle with your child because he honestly doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing. (just because he has a nephew does not mean he knows how to parent a child.)

also very grounded and doesn’t fall for cute little tricks as much, so out of the dreamies, he’d end up becoming one of the better fathers.

also cause he never loses. and no way is he gonna lose an argument with a child.

“不行。” “爸爸, pleaaase?” “no. 不可以。”

chenle seemed to be holding a chocolate bar high above his head, steely gaze fixed on your young child trying to ignore their pleading puppy dog eyes.

“妈妈说 no chocolate, right?” your heart warms when you realize he remembered you scolding your child yesterday, though you can’t help but to feel a little bad.

“chenle,” you say, both their heads turning towards you. “how about you give the little baby some chocolate and we can eat the eggs i just made in the kitchen?”

the way both their eyes shine almost identically is so fucking adorable.

Park Jisung

??!?>!?!>?>!?@#?>(*#(@*(*#!?!@?

“that’s… mine??” “what?” “… it?” “it?” “the.. child?”

actually malfunctions.

jisung is very flustered, for lack of better terms. he was always considered the baby maknae of dream, but his own child? lord, help him.

you... him.... the baby... it or they.. came out of you??? what.

gets awfully flushed whenever he’s carrying his child around the building. everyone tries to stop and coo at the baby, + chenle and haechan have decided to make his life a living hell cracking up jokes whenever they can.

jisung is surprisingly good at getting your chaotic child to sleep with his bedtime stories, which are usually all his big yap sessions.

“and did daddy get that bruise on his forehead because he slipped while chasing uncle chenle and uncle haechan?” you question the two of them, wondering what they had been talking about earlier.

your child nods, bright eyes sparkling and grinning, “아빠 also said, ‘get back here, you devilish imbeciles!’”

oh fuck.

your accusatory gaze turns towards jisung, who averts his eyes, holding an ice pack to his bruising forehead, trying to shield himself from possibly getting more bruises.

“i-in my defense, they were—”

“one more time, park jisung, and i’m changing their legal godfathers to the two imbeciles you love and appreciate so so much.”

his eyes widen in shock, “you wouldn’t.”

“try me.”

now jisung is a grumbling mess when the two idiots are around his child, but the lack of chasing them around can be counted as an upgrade, i guess.

TAGLIST ↬ @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @ldh0000 @galacticnct @peterm4rker

148 notes · View notes

jburrgf · 3 days ago

Text

DAYTONA

“When the smoke in the air rolls like a wave it reminds me of that ocean view, and I swear that I won’t, but when it gets cold I think of Daytona and I think about you.”

pairing: hs reader/fan reader! x ahs joe!/bengals joe!

summary: summer love, high school love, one night stand, reuning after a long time, fan x famous player.

description: you went to bengals game at miami with your father, and find out on the same night that you’re staying at the same hotel as joe burrow: your one night stand crush from when you were 17.

The day of the game was something out of a dream for my dad. It wasn’t just any game—it was the Bengals against the Dolphins, and Joe Burrow was leading Cincinnati’s offense.

My dad had been a die-hard Bengals fan for as long as I could remember. We’d spent countless Sundays in front of the TV, analyzing every play, cheering, and sometimes throwing pillows at the screen when the game didn’t go our way.

Today, though, the energy was different. The Hard Rock Stadium buzzed with excitement as the teams took the field. We’d arrived early, walking into the stadium with our jerseys on, my dad proudly wearing his Burrow jersey. I’d gone for something a little more neutral—after all, I didn’t have the same emotional investment in the Bengals, but I loved being here with him.

The first quarter passed in a blur. My dad was on the edge of his seat, muttering under his breath every time the Dolphins defense pressed Joe. "Come on, Joe, you’ve got this," he grumbled, his eyes glued to the field. I always thought that was funny. My dad is a born and raised 70’s type of guy from Miami, and still, he always cheered for the Bengals. My mom, born and raised in Tennessee, got the same taste as my father when they married almost thirty years ago.

Joe looked calm, focused, his movements deliberate as he assessed the defense before the snap.

I chalked it up to the overwhelming atmosphere of the stadium—the lights, the noise, the fans. Still, I found myself watching Joe closely, like there was something more to it.

When the Bengals scored their first touchdown, the crowd erupted, and my dad leaped to his feet, cheering at the top of his lungs. "That’s my guy!" he shouted, clapping and throwing his arm around me. I laughed, more at his enthusiasm than anything, and joined in the celebration.

By the time the game ended, the Bengals had secured a hard-fought victory, and my dad was beaming. As we made our way out of the stadium, he was already talking about the next game he wanted to attend, but all I could think about was the odd sense of déjà vu that had been nagging at me.

Back at the hotel, my dad was ready to crash for the night, the excitement of the game having worn him out. "You’re not tired?" he asked as I lingered in the doorway.

"Not really. I might head down to the cafeteria, see if I can grab something to eat," I said, my stomach growling at the thought of a late-night snack.

He nodded, already halfway to sleep. "Alright, don’t stay up too late.” I laughed, as I’m still 10 years old.

I slipped out of the room and made my way down the quiet hallway, the cool, sterile air of the hotel soothing after the heat and noise of the stadium. The lobby was nearly empty, the faint hum of the late hour settling over the place. I made my way to the small cafeteria, hoping it was still open this late.

To my relief, the lights were on, and I stepped inside, scanning the shelves for something to eat. I grabbed a sandwich and a bottle of water, goind to check out and pay right after, and I turned around to find a place to sit.

And that’s when I saw him.

At first, I didn’t recognize him. He was sitting alone in the corner, his head bent over a cup of coffee. But then, as if sensing my gaze, he looked up. His eyes met mine, and suddenly, it hit me like a wave crashing on the shore.

Joe Burrow.

The realization came slowly, like a puzzle falling into place. I blinked, my mind racing to catch up. Could it really be him? The same guy I’d watched out on the field today? The same guy that my dad loves like his own son?

He stood up, and the casual way he moved, the familiar way he looked at me, made my heart skip a beat. There was no mistaking it now.

"You Still wear that, Y/N?" His voice was soft, as if he wasn’t entirely sure it was me. Why is he calling my name?

I stared at him, stunned. "Joe?" My voice came out in a whisper, like I was afraid saying his name out loud might break the spell. “Wear what?” I shook my head, still trying to make sense of it all. Why is he talking to me like that? He knows me from where? My words felt clumsy, my thoughts still spinning. I hadn’t even realized he’d know who I was. I mean, why would he?

I hesitated for a moment, looking at my clothes. It was the Athens High School sweatshirt that a guy that I met in Daytona gave me once. And then, realization hitted me. Ohio Joe, the shy handsome man that I had the most perfect night ever when I was seventeen years. Joe, Joey, blond hair, blue eyes, shy smile. The same Joe. I crossed the small space between us, still reeling from the shock of seeing him here, of all places, after all these years.

Joe gestured to the seat across from him. "Do you want to sit?"

As we sat there, I couldn’t help but stare at him. He was the same, but different. Older, obviously. More confident. There was something about him now that I hadn’t noticed back then—a calmness, a self-assurance that came with time and experience. But he still had that same smile, the one that made you feel like you were the only person in the room. I just couldn't believe it. Was Ohio Joe an American football player? I watched his game tonight!

I wasn’t sure where to begin, so I settled on the most obvious question. "What are you doing here?"

He chuckled softly, glancing around the empty cafeteria. "Team’s staying at the hotel. You?"

"My dad and I came down for the game. He’s a big Bengals fan."

Joe’s eyes lit up with recognition, and he nodded. "That’s awesome. Did he enjoy the game?"

I smiled. "He loved it. He’s probably already planning the next one."

We fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, the air between us thick with unspoken memories. I wasn’t sure if he was thinking about it too—Daytona Beach, the night we met—but I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was.

And then, as if reading my mind, Joe leaned back in his chair, his eyes searching mine. "Do you remember that night? Daytona Beach?"

My breath caught in my throat. Of course, I remembered. How could I forget? But hearing him say it out loud, acknowledging that night all these years later, felt surreal.

"I do," I said softly, my heart pounding in my chest. "It feels like forever ago."

Daytona Beach, Florida, 10th of May 2014.

It was our high school graduation trip. Daytona was only a couple hours away from where I lived, but it felt like a different world. We had spent all year planning it, dreaming about it—one last hurrah before we all went off in different directions, scattered to the wind. College, jobs, wherever life would take us.

The first few days had been a blur of beaches, sunburns, and bad decisions, but on the last night, something changed.

We found ourselves at a crowded beachside bar (that happened to be an alcohol free bar), packed with people our age—locals, tourists, whoever happened to be passing through. That’s where I first saw him. Joe was leaning against the bar, his hair tousled from the salty air, a drink in his hand, looking out over the crowd like he didn’t quite belong there. He was quiet, observant, the kind of guy who didn’t need to be in the center of attention to command it.

He was just another face in a sea of unfamiliar ones. But there was something about him that drew me in, something I couldn’t explain. Before I knew it, I was walking over to him.

"You look like you’re not from around here," I said, my voice raised over the thumping music.

He turned, a slow smile spreading across his face. "I’m not."

"Where’re you from?" I asked, leaning against the bar next to him.

"Ohio. Here for a football convention with my team," he replied, his eyes flicking back to the crowd for a moment before settling on me again. "You?"

"Daytona. I’m local. Well, sort of. Here for graduation week."

He nodded, like he understood what that meant, even though we were from completely different worlds. We talked for a while—about the convention, the beaches, what came next for both of us. Joe told me he was headed to college in a few months to play football. I told him I wasn’t sure what I was going to do yet, but I had a few options.

There was something easy about talking to him. It wasn’t forced or awkward, like it sometimes was with guys I didn’t know well. Joe had this quiet confidence, like he didn’t need to impress anyone. He was just… himself.

As the night went on, we wandered away from the bar, down toward the beach. The sand was still warm from the day’s heat, and the moonlight glittered off the water as we walked, the waves crashing softly in the distance.

I don’t know how long we walked before we stopped, standing at the edge of the water, our feet sinking into the wet sand.

"You ever feel like you’re at the edge of something, but you’re not sure what it is?" I asked, staring out at the horizon.

Joe glanced at me, his eyes thoughtful. "Yeah. All the time."

We were both about to start new chapters of our lives, and the uncertainty of it all hung between us like a cloud. It felt like everything was about to change, and we didn’t know what that would look like.

"Do you ever get scared of what comes next?" I asked, my voice softer now.

Joe shrugged, but there was a hint of vulnerability in his expression. "Sometimes. But I figure you just take it as it comes, you know?"

I nodded, even though I wasn’t sure I knew. I was scared—of college, of leaving home, of everything that came with growing up. But standing there with Joe, it didn’t seem so terrifying.

“I can’t see my life away from here” I said again, nervously. “I feel like my anchor is here, and that my boat will never sail.”

“Honestly, if I lived in a place like that, I wouldn’t want to leave either.” He responded with a smile. “I mean, I understand you. It's different when you feel lost.”

I looked at the boy, still not understanding. What did he knew about being lost?

“I hear from everyone that I’m not good enough. From everyone you can imagine.” He completes his own thought. “If you’re not your number one follower, no one else will be.”

I nodded, moving closer to Joe, sitting on the sand. The ocean waves were breaking in front of me, the sea was rough in Daytona today. The magnificent sunset was setting right in front of us.

I got up and took a photo of the sun with my cell phone. I let out a smile, and felt the warmth of Joey's body behind me. “Now let me take your pic.”

Before I could even challenge him, the blonde already had his cell phone in his face. I smiled at the small rear camera, adjusting myself for a pose.

“you looked beautiful” He commented, with a shy smile

“My turn to take your picture.”

I practically pushed Joey into the sea, positioning him. Joe was the most handsome guy I've ever seen in my entire life. And when he laughed at the camera, I was more sure that yes, he was beautiful. Lostly beautiful, intellectually beautiful, my kind of beautiful.

"Don't forget to remind me to give you my number." He began to say, putting his cell phone in his pocket. "I wanna all these photos."

I nodded, starting to walk along the beach sand. We were silent for countless minutes, but this wasn't a nightmare. Joe and I were quiet, but our words didn't need to be spoken out loud.

We walked together down the beach, our footsteps quiet in the soft sand. The night was peaceful, the sound of the waves filling the space between us, but I could tell Joe was nervous. Every now and then, he glanced over at me, like he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how.

"So, Ohio, huh?" I broke the silence, nudging him playfully with my shoulder. "What’s it like up there?"

He smiled, looking down at his feet as he walked. "Cold, mostly. It’s not like this."

I laughed softly. "I bet. Daytona’s kind of… the opposite."

Joe chuckled too, but it was quiet, like he was still getting used to talking to me. "Yeah. I guess you’re used to this, though. The beach and all."

"Pretty much," I said, my eyes drifting out toward the water. "But I don’t know… it’s different tonight. Doesn’t feel like home. It feels like something else."

Joe didn’t say anything for a moment, and I thought maybe I’d said something weird. But then he spoke, his voice soft, almost hesitant. "I get that. It’s kinda like… like we’re in a bubble, you know? Like this is a different world for just one night."

I nodded, surprised by how perfectly he’d put it. "Exactly."

He glanced over at me again, his eyes flicking down to the sand before meeting mine. "So, uh… what comes next for you? After this?"

I shrugged. "College, I guess. I’m still figuring it out."

"You nervous about it?" he asked, his tone gentle, like he genuinely wanted to know.

"A little," I admitted. "I mean, it’s a big change, you know? Everything’s about to be different."

Joe nodded, looking thoughtful. "Yeah. It’s scary."

I glanced at him, surprised by his honesty. Most guys would’ve tried to brush it off, act like they had it all together. But not Joe. He was quiet, but he wasn’t afraid to admit when something scared him. I liked that about him.

"You’re going to college to play football, right?" I asked, remembering what he’d told me earlier.

"Yeah," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly a little shy about it. "I mean, I hope so. I’ve got a spot, but, you know… you never really know until you’re there."

"You’re gonna be great," I said without even thinking. "I can tell."

He glanced at me, surprised. "You think so?"

"Definitely," I said, smiling at him. "You’ve got that look about you. Like you’re going to do big things."

Joe blushed, looking down at the sand again. "Thanks. That means a lot."

We walked in silence for a little while after that, the weight of the conversation hanging between us. There was something about Joe that made me feel like I could say anything, like he wouldn’t judge me for it. He was quiet, sure, but he was listening. Really listening.

Somehow, we ended up sitting in the sand, the conversation flowing as easily as the waves. We talked about everything and nothing, the kind of deep, late-night conversation that only happens when you know you’ll never see the other person again. There was something liberating about that—knowing that whatever we said, whatever happened, wouldn’t follow us past this night.

It was almost seven when we returned to the bar. Now completely quiet, Joe used all his awkward teenage charm to sneak into the bar’s kitchen. Taking advantage of the moment, I followed him inside.

"I’ve been sneaking into the bar’s kitchen for about three nights now," he explained to me, opening one of the freezers and grabbing a huge tub of ice cream. Joe handed me one of the clean spoons sitting on the counter.

We sat down next to each other on the floor, in front of the freezer.

“Tell me getting to know Daytona has been worth it, please,” I asked, taking a spoon full of ice cream.

“I haven’t seen the whole city yet. But you’re definitely the best tourist spot,” he said with a shy smile, hoping his line had the effect he wanted. “I’m glad I met you,” Joe said sincerely. “I usually get really nervous around beautiful girls.”

“Looking this handsome? Impossible!” I replied.

“Hey, I’m serious. I hardly ever feel comfortable around people my age.”

His hand found mine at that moment. I smiled, looking into his eyes. Joe leaned in close and kissed me. The kiss happened so naturally, I barely realized it was happening until it was too late. One moment, we were sitting side by side, our shoulders brushing against each other. The next, Joe was leaning in, his lips soft against mine, tasting faintly of salt, chocolate ice cream, and whatever drink he’d been sipping on earlier.

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. The sounds of the waves, the distant music from the bar, everything faded away until it was just the two of us, lost in each other.

Joe's hand found my neck, pulling me closer. One of my hands rested on his leg for support, while our tongues were intertwined—in my mouth, in his, everywhere.

We pulled back when I ran out of breath. Red-faced, hair messy, and completely dazed by what had just happened, I broke away from the kiss with the biggest smile on my face. Joe wasn’t much different from me. Sweaty, his short hair tousled, and grinning widely.

“You taste like tutti-frutti candy,” he remarked. I laughed, giving him a playful slap. “It’s true! I swear!”

Silence settled over us after that. Joe and I sat holding hands, savoring the last bites of ice cream that rested on the bowl on my lap.

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” he told me, the smile fading from his face. “I think I’ll miss you.”

“You barely know me, Joe,” I said, with a slight pause between his words and mine. Joe pressed his lips together and shrugged.

“I don’t care. I’ll miss you anyway.”

The lights in the bar began to turn off, and that’s when we realized we probably had to head back to the hotel now. We got up from the floor, put away what we’d used, and washed our hands. We left together through the back door of the bar.

“One more thing, before I forget…”

I couldn’t respond, because before I knew it, I was pressed against the back wall of the bar. The alley was dark, damp, and smelled of the sea. But none of that mattered anymore, because I felt Joe’s hands on my waist, pinning me against the wall, all six-foot-three and almost 200 pounds of him right against me, and I had never been so happy.

My fingers threaded through his hair, feeling it prickle my skin in a good way. I smiled, feeling breathless again, but unlike last time, when I pulled away, I leaned back in a few moments later.

I don’t exactly remember when we started walking again, but I know Joe’s hand was in the back pocket of my shorts. I was wearing his gray sweatshirt with “Athens High School” written in dark green.

The walk to my hotel, a cluster of stilted beach houses, wasn’t long. It was a bit farther down the same street. When I reached the little staircase leading to my place, my friends were all sitting on the porch, drinking and chatting.

“Look who’s coming back!” Tracey said.

I flipped her off, then turned to Joey. He was smiling, watching me, and when I looked at him, I blushed completely. How could I like someone this much in such a short time?

“This is for you,” he said, handing me a piece of paper. I looked down, and “Joey B” was written in big letters. It was his phone number.

“Where’s your pen?” I asked, and he pulled out the pen he’d taken from the bar, from his pocket. “Sign my jacket.”

I said, turning my back to him. I felt Joe hesitate a bit before actually doing what I’d asked. His signature was now at my waist level. “It’s because I know you’re going to be famous someday. Then I can say I was your first fan who got an autograph.”

He let out a silly smile, rolling his eyes. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I will too,” I replied.

The blond leaned closer, left a kiss on my lips along with a smile. He smelled incredible, and my whole body felt numb, and I’d only known this boy for a few hours. How could this be happening?

“See you soon, Ohio Boy.”

“See you in my dreams, Daytona Girl.”

I went up the stairs after saying goodbye to Joe, without looking back. When I got to my friends, he was already gone. I sighed, feeling like a part of me had just walked away too.

Flashback Off.

Back in the present, I sat across from Joe in the quiet hotel cafeteria, the memory of that night hanging between us. He was watching me closely, waiting for me to say something, to acknowledge what we both knew.

"I remember," I said finally, my voice barely more than a whisper. "That night… Daytona Beach. I didn’t recognize you at first."

Joe smiled, but it was softer this time, almost wistful. "I figured you didn’t. It’s been a while."

I nodded, my heart pounding. "Yeah. It has."

We sat in silence for a moment, both of us lost in the memory of that night. It had been just one night—one perfect, fleeting moment in time. But somehow, it felt like more than that. Like it had always been more, even if we hadn’t realized it at the time.

"Why didn’t we keep in touch?" He asked, the question slipping out before I could stop it.

I looked down to my hands, a shadow passing over my face. "I don’t know. Maybe we thought it was easier that way. One night, no expectations, no strings. I lost your number some weeks after, too. Always scared of finding you again."

He looked down at his hands, his jaw tightening slightly. "I thought about it. A lot, actually. But I didn’t know if… I didn’t want to complicate things."

"Complicate things?" I echoed, frowning.

Joe’s eyes met mine, and I could see the vulnerability in them—the same vulnerability I’d seen that night on the beach. "You were starting a whole new life. I was starting mine. It felt like… maybe it was better to leave it as just that one night. Something simple. Something good."

His words made sense in a way, but they also left me feeling hollow. "Yeah," I said, though my voice was quieter now. "Maybe."

We sat there for a moment, the memory of that night hanging between us. There was no denying the connection we’d had back then, and now, sitting across from him, I felt it again. Stronger, more complicated, but still there.

"Let me give you my number this time." Joe says, and I let it go a smile on my face. Ït is true"

"Do you trust me with your number?" I asked him.

"If you didn't sell my autograph until today, yes, I trust you with my number." He said, alittle smile coming from his mouth.

I smiled at him and handed my phone to him. Joe got his phone number over there, and when he was ready again, I got my phone back.

“I think it’s better If I get going.” I was the first one to get up from the table. Joe followed me. “I will text you when I wake up tomorrow.”

“Or you can do it today.” He said, simple.

“I'm gonna text you when I wake up tomorrow promise you.” I said. “Hope to see you somewhere else, Joey.”

I hadn’t expected to see him again. After all, it was just one night. He was from Ohio, I was from Daytona, and our lives were about to go in completely different directions, again. I walked down to my room, thinking about what just happened. It's true when people say that you know when you meet the love of your life, cause I felt that way.

I gave a look down to my sweatshirt, seeing the autograph that Joe gave to me years before today. I couldn't believe it. How could I never find that out? His name was literally there, right under my own nose.

i got into my room, and my dad was already sleeping on his twin bed. I left a smile, and went to do my skin care at the bathroom. I couldn't even finish washing my face, because somebody knocked on my door.

A soft knock on the door.

My heart skipped as I turned, my hand hovering over the handle, not quite daring to believe it. My hand started to spin, and I felt out of breath. I know it as him — I could feel through the doors.

But as I opened the hotel door dragging my whole life on the edges of my hads, I saw him there, again, like a deja-vu.was—standing by the elevators, hands in his pockets again, that same shy look on his face. It was Joey.

"Hey," he said, his voice quiet but steady.

I stopped in my tracks, surprised. "Hey. I didn’t think I’d see you again."

He didn’t say anything at first; he just stepped forward, his presence filling the doorway, his eyes never leaving mine. He looked as if he’d been wrestling with his thoughts, with everything left unsaid between us. And then, without another word, he reached up, gently brushing his hand along my jaw, his touch warm and grounding.

“I couldn’t just let it go again,” he said softly, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Not this time.”

I felt my heart pounding in my chest, and I could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the quiet determination that had brought him here. “Joe…” I began, but he didn’t give me a chance to finish.

In a single, careful movement, he leaned in, his lips brushing against mine, soft and tentative at first. But as I melted into the kiss, he pulled me closer, his hands settling on my waist as if he couldn’t bear to let me go. I could feel the years between us dissolving, the unspoken words, the moments we’d lost, all coming together in that one kiss.

When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against mine, his breaths shallow, his gaze intense.

“I’m not going to let you go again,” he murmured, his voice raw, like a promise he’d been holding onto for years. “Not this time.”

I felt a shiver run through me at his words, the weight of them settling over us like a vow. All the years, the distance, the almost—they didn’t matter anymore. Right here, right now, it was just us.

I looked at him, feeling a mix of disbelief and relief. It was like all the years of wondering, all the what-ifs, had finally led us to this moment. I didn’t know what would come next, but for the first time, I felt like I didn’t have to have all the answers. All that mattered was that we were here, together.

"Then don’t," I whispered, leaning into him again. "Don’t let me go."

He smiled, his hand cupping my face as he pulled me in for another kiss. And in that moment, I knew that whatever happened, we were finally where we were meant to be.

#cincinnati bengals #joe burrow #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow imagine #joeburrow #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow x reader #bengals #Spotify

146 notes · View notes

gor3-hound · 1 day ago

Text

ETERNITY — SUGURU GETO

a/n: hiii !! first geto fic on this account maybe?? shocker bcs i love him so bad... commission for @nexysworld !! love her so bad, pls check her out <3

cw: 18+ content, father-daughter incest, possessive behaviour, sheltered reader, mildly dubious consent, yandere-ish themes, very teeny tiny amount of religious themes, too. p in v, creampie, brief choking

Suguru Geto is not a man you would consider to be unkind, but there was very little affection within his actions. Your father was often patient with you - strict, but forgiving. When he touched you, it was always cold and clinical; always born out of necessity.

Your mother had always been irrelevant to him, nothing more than a means to an end. That just so happened to be you, his daughter, and one and only heir. He had sensed the cursed energy within you the moment you were born, and he took you in to raise you on his own. He had no need for that woman anymore - she had served her purpose and bestowed him with a gift greater than any other.

Your life was free of troubles. Perhaps you did not get to play with the village children, but that was alright. You were allowed to play with the others within the compound. His followers were always kind to you, if not somewhat on edge in your presence. You did not understand it then, but now you realised the apprehension they held did not stem from your actions, but from fear of upsetting your father. You had been sheltered, yes, but you found you did not crave much else. You were well-fed, well looked after… It was hard to feel caged when the compound was all you had known.

Your youthful naivety could not last forever, and Suguru knew this. He dreaded your growth with each passing year, waiting for the questions that would come. He could keep you from the outside world, but he could not keep the outside world from you. He had many visitors, people looking to be cured of their ailments. He could keep you from watching these interactions, but he could see the way your curious eyes shone as you watched them come and go.

You asked him about the outside world only once, shortly after he had ‘cured’ a young child. You had been excited to see someone closer to your age, but his words quickly shut you down.

“The child has been plagued with demons,” He had told you simply, eyes cold as he glanced down at you. “I can keep them at bay, yes. But it would not do you well to socialise with others such as him. They will corrupt you.”

It had not convinced you entirely, and he could see that in your eyes. With a small frown, he kneeled before you, tilting his head to the side. “I extracted one from him. Would you like to see it?”

You nodded, as expected. Hopeful curiosity glimmering in your eyes, the idea of being shown something new and dangerous exciting to you. He sighs, allowing the cursed spirit he had absorbed free. He had no worry - he knew it was safely under his control. But he could see the fear in your eyes as it stalked towards you, the way you instinctively backed up, glancing at your father for protection.

“Daddy-”

He lets its maw open inches from your body, the acrid stench of its breath filling the room as it goes to attack. He watches, unblinking, as you tremble and beg for his help, tears streaming down your face. Even still, he waits a few more seconds before driving his cursed tool through the spirit, exorcising it with ease.

“Do you see now why I cannot let you outside? It is far too dangerous for you.” You nod, clinging to him as you sob into the fabric of his robes. He lets you, holding you close to him. “I do not wish to see you hurt. Promise me you won’t ask to leave the compound again.”

“I promise.”

The years pass, and you do not dare mention leaving the compound again. Even as you reach adulthood, the memory of the demon you faced as a child keeps you biting back any requests of more freedom.

Something in your father has changed - you’re not sure what it is, but it leaves you with a lingering sense of unease whenever you cross his path. His gaze has become sharper, watching your every movement like he’s waiting for something. What it is, you’re unsure of. Your pulse is constantly racing when you’re forced to be in his proximity for more than a few seconds, but your brain can’t register what it is about him that’s making you so tense.

Your realisation comes to you slowly. You’ve seen that look before in some of them men that have wandered around the compound. Not directed at you, but you’re able to identify it all the same.

Hunger.

Your realisation doesn’t come with any changes in his actions, but you can see in the subtle curve of his lips that he knows. He can sense that you act differently around him. Geto is an intelligent man, and it’s clear he planned for you to find out from the start. Months pass by without any changes in routine. You rarely see your father unless he deems it necessary to address you, his followers often being the ones responsible for ensuring you attend meals and stay within the compound.

Then, suddenly, he comes to you.

It’s the middle of the night when he wakes you with a gentle caress on your cheek. It’s one of the most affectionate touches he’s given you since you were a little girl, fingertips gently brushing over your cheekbones. When you meet his eyes, your heart stops beating for a moment.

His gaze is anything but kind. His jaw is set tight, and in that moment you realised how naive you were to think ignoring his glances would be enough to keep him at bay. Seeing your eyes widen with fear is enough for a sharp grin to spread across his face, his hand shifting to grasp at your hair, tilting your head back harshly.

“You're looking so beautiful these days, sweetheart.” Suguru murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck, free hand grasping at your hip. “I thought about resisting my impulses, but it’s as if you were made to tempt me. Pure, kind, beautiful. Forbidden fruit is always said to be the sweetest, but I had never thought temptation would come to me in the form of my very own daughter.”

You stiffen under him, hands pushing at his chest. He tuts disapprovingly, his fingers slackening as he pulls his hand from your hair. Suguru slides his fingers down the side of your neck, delicately wrapping around your throat before he squeezes.

“Shh, calm down. It’s only me, bunny.” He purrs the nickname, one he has not used in years in an attempt to soften you, It works, momentarily, but your muscles still feel fraught with tension. He leans down, fingers tightening around your neck in a warning as he presses his lips to yours.

His mouth is hot against yours as he kisses you. He keeps the pace leisurely, almost teasing as he presses his chapped lips against yours, tongue coaxing your lips open. The hand on your hip slides under your shirt in a way that makes you jolt, immediately breaking the kiss.

“Daddy, wait-”

Suguru scoffs, raising a brow at you. “That makes you sound so childish. You're a big girl now, aren't you?”

“D-Dad?” You correct, feeling yourself squirm under his harsh gaze.

“Better.” He breathes out, lowering his head once more to lathe his tongue along the flesh of your throat, licking hotly at your quickening pulse beneath the skin. The hand on your bare slides higher, dragging the fabric of your shirt up until he’s cupping your breast, thumb brushing gently over your nipple. You gasp softly at the pleasure it brings, something that brings an unfamiliar heat searing through your veins as wetness pools in the gusset of your panties.

He grins at the gasp he draws from your lips, teeth gently nipping at your skin as he releases your throat. His thumb flicks over your nipple once more as he drags his other hand down, moving to feel the wetness seeping through your underwear.

“I promised I’d protect you, bunny, and I meant it.” He murmurs, tracing a finger down the middle of the dampened fabric. He feels you tremble as he brushes over your clit, so he presses down gently to hear you whimper.

“I meant it,” he repeats, “I won’t hurt you, I just want you to feel good. You trust me, don’t you?

It’s a question, but it sounds more like a threat. You felt that familiar sense of unease in the back of your mind. You hadn’t experienced these things before, but you weren’t clueless. You knew this was wrong, that he shouldn’t be touching you like this, but as his thumb replaces his finger so he could gently rub circles into your clit, your apprehension melts.

“Good girl.” He praises, words smooth and sweet. His fingers hook in the waistband of your panties, and he slowly slides them down your legs. His eyes hone in on your cunt, slick with arousal that he caused. “Look at you.”

Shame burns your face as you close your thighs, attempting to hide yourself from his view. Suguru grabs your knees, prying your thighs away before sliding his body between them to keep them from closing again.

“What’s wrong? You said you trusted me, bunny. Why are you trying to hide from me?”

“I wasn’t, I… I’m sorry.” You reply, gaze dropping nervously. Your heart pounds almost painfully in your chest, feeling more ashamed for disappointing your father.

“I don’t want to punish you, darling. Don’t you want to be good for me?” He says quietly, his tone almost condescending. He doesn’t wait for a reply before he sinks a finger into your tight cunt, a groan rumbling his chest as he feels you squeezing the digit. “Such an innocent little thing. So tight and wet.”

Suguru pulls back briefly only to remove his clothing, settling between your legs once more. His thumb presses down the base of his cock, allowing himself to align the tip with your dripping hole. “This may hurt at first, but you need to relax for me. Can you be a good girl?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, voice soft and nervous. Suguru presses forward, sliding himself inch by inch inside of your tight heat until his cock is pressed to your cervix. Tears prick at your eyes from the sudden burn, your chest heaving with heavy breaths as he pauses to allow you to adjust to his size.

“Shh, shh. You’ll be alright, bunny. Your body was made for me, after all. It will feel good soon.” He promises, gently rocking his hips. “My sweet girl. I’d never have another have you like this. No, it has to be me. I won’t ever let anyone hurt you.”

He tries to be gentle with you - he has no intention to hurt his sweet little girl - but the way you squeeze around him feels divine. He’s sure he’s never felt anything so perfect before, feeling as though he’s being driven mad as your slick walls cling to his cock, sucking him greedily every time he starts to pull out. Suguru is not one to lose control, but he can’t find it within himself to hold back as he starts to fuck into you with earnest, pounding you into the mattress until you’re crying out with every thrust.

His hand falls to rest on your pelvis, thumb brushing your clit in a way that makes you mewl, arching into his touch. He grunts as you squeeze tighter around his cock, his hips stuttering as he rubs circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hips buck, and he slams into you harder, bruising your cervix each time his hips snap forward. You’re so tight and warm and perfect around him, and he’s not sure how much longer he’s going to last inside of you.

He watches through hooded, lust-glazed eyes as your body coils up tight, the prettiest moans and whimpers spilling from your hips as you come undone around his length. His teeth clench at the feeling of your walls fluttering around him, the grip on your hip turning bruising as he fucks into you erratically, chasing his own release. His hips stutter before he stills, spilling deep inside of you with a low groan. His eyes squeeze shut, hand falling away from your clit to grip the sheets as he floods you with his cum.

“There we go, bunny.” He murmurs softly as he returns to himself, slowly pulling out of you. He sighs shakily, brushing some hair from your face. “You’re mine forever, darling. I’m never letting you stray from my side.”

His tone alone assures you his words are a promise.

#geto x you #geto x reader #geto suguru #jjk geto #jjk x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #geto smut #jjk suguru #getou suguru x reader #suguru geto smut

92 notes · View notes

faeriekit · 2 days ago

Text

CLOSE ENOUGH.

*(This was originally an unbirthday gift for biblioteque on discord! ...and I forgot their tumblr username! So!)*

When Clark is young, he doesn’t know any different.

“Be careful, Kal,” Mama says as he toddles around the house, her hands on his hands, his feet on her feet. They march together, Mama and Kal, as they go around the farmhouse. “You’re going to be big and strong like your father. You gotta be gentle.”

“Gen’le,” Clark gurgles, the word barely English.

Pa laughs from his place on the table, newspaper in hand. “And smart, too!”

Father snorts through his cup of coffee. “There was no possible alternative. Kal-El will be exceptional, as expected of his house.”

“Well,” Mama says cheerfully, cutting Father a look through her glasses, “Maybe he’ll get lucky and won’t be as big-headed as you.”

Pa laughs, and Clark laughs loudly and openly with him; Father smolders into his coffee, and the morning passes.

Clark doesn’t know a lot, when he’s little.

He knows that he hears a lot, so sometimes there are things he’s not allowed to be in the room for: Father puts him to bed with a song and long stories of the science of the stars when Mama and Pa have tense words about money; Mama puts Clark to bed when there are strange men in the cornfield, and Pa stays downstairs with the hunting rifle; Pa or Ma or Father or whoever puts him to bed when the rest of his parents have heavy-breathed and strained ‘alone time’.

“I think Pa’s sick,” Clark says from his tucked-in place in bed, half-listening, playing with his bear’s plush limbs while his parents make noise elsewhere. They sound kinda strained, like they’re working too hard. Pa says that’s not good for you.

“…That’s not what’s happening,” says Ma, too tired to talk.

Clark pats her hand. Ma sounds like she feels bad too. They move onto sharing a story while Father and Pa make noises down the hall, and eventually Clark gets to sleep.

Clark doesn’t think much of his family when he’s little; it takes going to school to find out that he’s different than the other kids in Smallville.

He’s different from a lot of other kids.

“I have two names,” Clark tells Chloe at school, before Pa and Ma and Father tell him not to. His second name is a secret. Clark doesn’t know why, but he listens, and stops telling people why Father calls him Kal.

“How come you only have one Mom and one Pop?” Clark asks from the swings, Mike on the pair beside him. His feet pump back and forth as they swing. “Aren’t they lonely?”

Clark tells Tom “I’m not allowed to go outside of town without Ma or Pa,” even though it was super nice to be invited to watch the game with Tom’s family. Clark wrings his hands. “Father says it’s not safe.”

Eventually, Father and Ma and Pa are able to tell Clark the important things—that Clark is special, but not better than anyone else; that Clark is different, in ways that might scare people who don’t already love him; that what Father does is private, and is nobody’s business.

To be fair, Clark isn’t certain what Father does.

Father works in the attic, with equipment that beeps and chimes and hums and doesn’t need to be plugged in. He writes in a language that Clark only sometimes understand, and when Clark reads the results aloud, Father always corrects his pronunciation. The screen for Father’s work is clear and bright. There’s no static, like there is downstairs with the television, and when Clark runs his fingers through the screen, they don’t touch anything at all.

“Don’t touch that, Kal-El,” Father says simply, reading triangular words across the screen. Clark guiltily pulls his hands out of the screen.

“What is it?”

Father’s voice rumbles from his chest, his fingers never still on the keypad. “Weather results. I calculate the predicted weather for the next few weeks on the second of every calendar month.”

Clark peeks. That’s why he can’t read it that well, then: he doesn’t know any weather-words. “I thought that weather reading is super hard, and that you can’t tell what the weather is all that well?”

Father’s lips quirk upwards. His typing continues. “With inferior equipment, yes. With a little more experience and better tools, however, the accuracy improves significantly.”

Clark tells Eliza that a tornado is going to touch down at four on March 28th, since his Father told him so. Eliza, with her brown pigtails and hand-me-down play dress, puts her hands on her hips and calls him a liar.

Ma and Pa watch Father haul equipment out into the storm to take notes from their spot in the window, only for the shape to start funneling right before their eyes.

The tornado touches down at 4:00:23pm.

Eliza ends up owing Clark all her tooth fairy money—almost a full four dollars and seventy-five cents.

Ignoring my 15+ wips to invent new, worse wips is my passion. Don't look in my documents folder. Seriously. Do not.

#dc #faer fic #there's more to this but it's M rated so I am holding off on it

380 notes · View notes

rafesbabygirlx · 2 days ago

Text

A Lot of Time has Passed | Part 7B

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Season 4 Rafe x Maybank reader

Summary: Beginning at the time jump, the Pogues seemingly succeeded at something, Rafe is struggling with making amends and being a better person. Jus sister left the island after returning from South America. Returning after 18 months with a secret.

A/N: took a page from @whytheylosttheirminds with separating the part into 2. Because it’s a bit of writing. About 3k words each. I wanted to finish this off before S4 P2 begins so it’s finishing this is the last part until it airs.

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: fluff, bit of angst, smut (oral m receiving, chest riding, p in v riding) death, Luke Maybank

“Can we please talk?”

You give it a second but you can see the desperation in his eyes, “okay, talk.”

He runs a hand through his buzz cut, eyes heavy with guilt. “I’m sorry. I do want to be better. I’m the man of the Cameron family now, and what am I supposed to do when all the women in my life hate me? Fear me? It eats at me. I should’ve stood up for Kie, set an example that Ruthie and Topper’s bullshit isn’t acceptable anymore, never was, I don’t care about that reputation anymore, not like I used to. When I look at V, all I want is to be better. I have no excuse.

He watches you, searching for a sign that you’re listening. You offer him nothing, forcing him to keep talking. “I took you for granted for so long. Used you, kept you a secret because I was scared of what people would think, all because of stupid titles. I knew Topper and Kelce wouldn’t say anything but that’s always what they’d use to try to piss me off when we’d be messing with each other. You always meant something to me and I constantly pushed you away. I hurt you more times than I can count, some of the times worse than others.”

Painful memories flash between you—He’s talking about the time he handcuffed you to his bed during his downward spiral after killing Peterkin, dragging you with him to Barry’s when he needed to hide out, putting you in the middle of gunfire with the police when he got caught. Drugging you alongside Sarah and bringing you on that ship then standing idle why he watched his dad strangle you until you were blue when you got smart with him about murdering Big John. All because he didn’t want to be alone.

“You came to me for protection from your father, and I failed you. You tried to help me, and I pushed you away. But all I want now is to see you happy. You shouldn’t have even forgiven me.”

Tears slip down your face as you reach out, cupping his cheek. “I told you what I thought your problem was, and I was right. You’ve grown without your father’s shadow. Even before I came back, you’d changed. You are the man of the Cameron family now, and you can be the kind of man your father never was. I need you to be all in, Rafe. No more half-measures. V needs you. I need to know we can count on you. Only then can we move forward.”

You grab the sea turtle V left on the bed this morning, unintentionally but great for the point you’re trying to make. “Because what if she was there, what if she could understand all that happened.” You toss it to him. “Think about her Rafe.”

“I promise,” he says, voice cracking. “Forever and always.”

A bittersweet smile spreads across your face. The words that once comforted you in your darkest moments return, anchoring you both.

I’ll protect you, I promise, forever and always.

I’ll be here for you when you need me, I promise, forever and always.

I’ll kick his ass for you, I promise, forever and always.

“I love you, Rafe, and that’s never changing.” You kneel closer, wrapping him in a hug.

“I love you too, Y/N,” he whispers, his voice resolute. “Forever and always.”

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

You look at him, and he smirks. You kiss him on the lips, then his jaw, then his neck. He coos at the feeling. You sit up and pull off your tank top, laying back down. You stare into his eyes intently as you play with the waistline of your shorts. He goes to reach out for you, but you smack his hand away.

“Uh uh, take your clothes off.” “Yes, mam.” He stands up and rids himself of his own pajamas, now standing completely bare in front of you. “Lay.”

He does exactly as you say. You straddle his legs, running a finger down his length to tease him. Kneeling your upper body down, arch your ass into the air, and he smiles down at you. You grab him in your hand, running your thumb over his tip, smearing his precum. You drop a glob of spit down onto him. You lower your head onto him, beginning to bob up and down. He thrusts up into you at the sensation, and you remove your mouth from him.

“Uh uh, I’m in charge tonight, baby.”

He nods his head and throws his hands up in a mock surrender. You begin bobbing again, taking as much of him as you can, gagging on his huge length but taking him nonetheless. You run your hand that's not pumping him up and down his torso, scratching your nails on the way down. You hear his series of grunts and moans and feel the way he'd tense up trying to refrain from thrusting up.

He was getting close, and you could tell by the way he'd twitch in your throat. When his breathing started to hitch, you let him go and watched for his reaction. As he realizes his orgasm was lost, he opens his eyes to see you kneeling in front of him with a big smirk.

“Not fun being treated like shit, right?” You laugh, and he rolls his eyes but eventually laughs quietly. He goes to sit up, and you push him back into the pillow. You want to tease him as much as you can. You made up, but it's nice to give him a little taste of his own medicine.

You start making your way up him, taking a seat right below his chin. You push down into him and moan. You begin to ride his chest. Rafe always loved to eat you out, and you know having him this close to your pussy drives him crazy.

“Let me taste you.” Gripping his head, moving it up closer to your clit. “Tongue out.” He lays his tongue out flat, and you move a little closer to also ride his tongue. Using him like this feels so good since you'd usually let him take control.

Your movements quicken, digging your nails into the back of his head, and you crane his neck. You're getting close, and you don't plan on slowing down. You hold yourself up on the headboard, and your body twitches. Rafe moans into your clit, and your head throws back. You shake as you come, arousal sticking to his chest. You lift up a bit to his mouth, and he cleans up what's left.

You move back down to his waist. Licking the palm of your hand and reaching back to stroke him. His body jolts at the feelings. You line yourself up with him and sink down onto him. Your nails dig into his chest at the stretching. No matter how many times you do this, the feeling always has you shocked.

You settle on him for a second before you lift up and throw yourself back down onto him. Your pace is immediately quick. You bounce like there's no tomorrow. Taking control of him like this is so rewarding. The feeling is amazing, but you need more stimulation. You begin to grind, feeling his pelvic bone rub against you has seeing stars.

“Can I touch?” You nod, and Rafe's hands roam your body. You're driving him crazy tonight, but his touch is soft. Taking every inch of you in. You're an angel sent from heaven to him. You're both close, and you're getting tired. Rafe grabs your hips and keeps you moving. You lean down and begin to kiss him.

“Love you, baby doll. Forever and always.” You lean your forehead on his as you continue your movements. “Fuck, Rafe. I love you more. Forever and always.” You cry out with a high-pitched moan as you release your orgasm. Rafe follows right behind you, gripping your waist hard and letting out a bunch of grunts.

You lift off of Rafe but stay on top of him. You shift down a little, enough to be able to lay your head on his chest. Following the rise and fall of his heavy breaths and listen to his heart race, while he holds you tightly, leaving kisses on the top of your head. You could lay like that forever.

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

The next morning you and Rafe wake up still tangled up with one another. He’s dressed and doesn’t smell like sweat and sex anymore, which means he left at some point. It angers you a bit but you chose to let it go for now. You take a shower and come out of the bathroom to see Rafe flying V around the room like Superman. You’re downstairs having breakfast, really just talking to V trying to make her laugh. That fell into a bit of a silence.

“I took the deal.”

“What?”

“Last night, I took the deal. That’s why I was dressed. I know you noticed but didn’t say anything.”

Taken aback just a bit. You were still very nervous of what Hollis’s intentions were. But you said you’d be supportive no matter what. “Ok, so now what?”

“She sent the info to the investors. The deposit should come out at some point today. And now I’m in contract with them.”

“Did you read the fine print about murder if this thing goes wrong?”

He laughs at the outrageous statements and goes to reach for your hand. “Yes, I read the whole thing, no there isn’t anything about murder. Not sure it’s something they’d want in paper.”

You smile and grip his hand a little harder. You go to say something but he cuts you off, “after yesterday, after our talk, after last night (he winks and you giggle), I thought this was the best step for US.” I want to be taken seriously, I want to be a strong father for V. Then I saw a photo of me and Sarah and I thought about the things I did to her. How she hates my guts, how she looked at me yesterday. I can’t be that person anymore. I’m gonna do the right thing and this is a stepping stone in that. This is for our family. I know you always hated that I’d tried to treat you with gifts and money, but you’re stuck with me and what’s mine is yours. So get used to it.” He takes a deep breath and smiles at you.

You release his hand and walk to the other side of the table to sit on his lap. “Ok Rafe Cameron. I told you I’d be there with you the whole way. Anything you need I’ll help you. I’m not going anywhere this time.” You give him a big kiss on the cheek when your phone starts to vibrate.

You reach over and pick it up and JJ is yelling in the other side. “JJ calm down!”

“Sis I need you here right now. I’m alone and got this letter and I’m freaking out.”

“Okay, OKAY, I’ll come.” You hang up and turn back to Rafe. “Do you think you’d be ok for a few when I go handle something for my brother?

“I mean sure but I thought we’d celebrate.”

“Ok first rule of the “be a better man” journey is to know that when a sibling calls in distress saying they need you. They probably need you. That would’ve saved you a lot of trouble.”

Rafe looks at you with a blank stare. “Ok- go then. I’ve got V.” You’re shocked at the reaction. Not being able to tell if he was mad at it or not was difficult. You didn’t mean to throw in a little jab about the past. It’s just a good lesson for him to learn.

You lean down to give him a kiss. “I love you.” Looking deeply into his eyes. “Forever and always.” He returns back.

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

Meeting JJ at your old house feels strange. He’s standing in the living room, staring at a piece of paper and rubbing his head. He hadn’t explained anything on the phone, which left you uneasy, but seeing his disheveled state makes your anxiety spike.

“J? What’s going on? Where is everyone?” you ask, voice tight with worry.

“They’re out on the boat, taking care of Terrance’s body,” he mutters, barely looking up.

“Terrance? As in Cleo’s Terrance? What happened?”

JJ sighs, exhaustion lining his face. “Cleo got kidnapped. Terrance was involved but didn’t know who the target was. He tried to save her, and it got him killed. I’ll fill you in later, but I need you to read this.”

He hands you the letter. The first line catches your eye: “Master JJ Maybank. Don’t let that go to your head.” You laugh nervously, but JJ doesn’t even crack a smile.

“Genrette’s groundskeeper brought this to me,” he explains. “Said Genrette left it for me.”

The words on the letter blur as you try to piece together its meaning. “I think we need to find dad,” JJ say, your eyes dart back to him.

“Absolutely not. I’m not seeing him,” you snap.

“Good thing it’s not about you,” he counters. “He’s the only one who might have answers to whatever this is.”

JJ’s expression softens, and he nods reluctantly. “You’re right. Sorry. Any idea where he might be?”

“I have a hunch.”

Minutes later, you’re on JJ’s boat, slicing through the water toward Barracuda Mike’s house. When you arrive, Mike is in his yard fidgeting with a go kart, watching the approaching storm clouds.

“Hey, Big B, you know there’s a storm coming, right?” JJ calls out.

“Yeah, I see it,” Mike responds.

You hang back as JJ pleads with Mike for information on your dad’s whereabouts. Moments later, Mike sighs and mutters, “I’ll call you if Luke gets in touch.” Sending you both off to the dock.

JJ sets the phone on speaker as it rings. Luke’s familiar voice comes through, cautious and calculating, until he hears Mike’s dog bark in the background. Realization hits him too late.

“We gotta move,” JJ says, eyes wide. You both sprint back to the house and bang on the door. Mike steps out, irritation creasing his brow.

“Mike, I’ve got a daughter to get home to. Don’t waste my time with this bullshit,” you says, voice cracking under the strain.

“I’m a grandpa, huh?” Luke’s voice drips with smugness as he steps out, a twisted smile on his face. “Didn’t see that coming.”

“Actually, you’re not,” you retort coldly. “She’ll never know you exist.”

Luke’s smirk falters, replaced by a fleeting shadow of disappointment. “That’s no way to talk to your old man,” he says, trying and failing to sound fatherly.

JJ shifts protectively in front of you, confronting Luke about his sudden reappearance and silence. You take a step back to the dock, needing space to process. Pulling out your phone, you FaceTime Rafe and V for a distraction. Rafe’s face lights up with a grin.

“Hey, when are you coming back? I’ve got something to tell you,” he says.

Before you can respond, the sound of sirens fills the air, and you see JJ and Luke sprinting toward the boat.

“Shit,” you mutter, forgetting you’re still on the call. “I gotta go. Bye, V. Rafe, I’ll call you later.”

JJ jumps in the boat with Luke behind him. “Take me home on the way,” you tell JJ firmly as you climb aboard.

Luke glances at you. “So, you’re a mom?” he asks.

“Yes,” you reply flatly, not sparing him a look. “And don’t ask anything about her. You don’t deserve to know her.”

“It’s with that Cameron kid, isn’t it?” Luke chuckles, as if confirming a suspicion. “I always thought that’d happen—the way he used to sneak in and out of your window. And I knew that’s where you’d be when you disappeared. Good for you, little miss new Kook.”

You clench your jaw, holding back a response. As the boat nears your house, you quickly text Rafe: Home. Meet me at the dock.

When you hop off the boat, you wave to JJ as he drives him and Luke off. Rafe and V are already walking down to meet you. You pull them into a tight hug.

“So, what’s up?” you ask, sensing the weight in Rafe’s eyes.

“I’ve been thinking about everything,” Rafe begins. “I’m really sorry for all the shit at the beach. Pogue this, Pogue that. I shouldn’t have put you through that.”

“We’ve talked about this,” you say, tilting your head at him.

“I know,” he continues, “but I need to know we’re good. My dad was a Pogue; that shit doesn’t matter. What matters is I wanna be like him, hardworking and keeping this family together. I want to build things, be better, in my own way. I’m going to patch things up with my sister, and I want you there with me. When the deal with Hollis goes through, I’m keeping a piece for us. For the three of us.”

The thought of the deal makes you pause, the uncertainty gnawing at you. Rafe notices and takes your hand. “Hey, it’ll be okay. We’ll make it work—you and me. I promise.”

He leans in and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. With that reassurance, the three of you head inside, ready to face whatever comes next.

TBC

Taglist:

@maybankslover @eringaitskill @luissa266 @lolll505

@dayyzlol @calaryssia @eg-dr3amer3 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @rafestar @bigbonenative

@writtenbyhollywood @livie4lifestarkeyblyth @leilanizcals

138 notes · View notes

mattyriddlesbitch · 2 days ago

Text

It Should Be You

Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader

Warnings: cussing, mentions of the battle of Hogwarts, mentions of death, pretty angsty

Another one way off schedule but I was inspired and wrote this in 1.5 hours. Enjoy.

4 years. It had been 4 years now since you last saw him. Your boyfriend, Mattheo who tragically passed away during the battle at Hogwarts. He tried protecting you as best as he could. He tried keeping you out of everything involving his father. He just disappeared a few days before the battle without a word and was never seen again. The word spread was that his father killed him and the ministry accepted that, marked him as legally dead and moved on.

Only you and a few of his friends held a funeral for him. It took several hours and his best friend Thedore physically pulling you away to get you back home from where you guys set up his headstone. With no body, you guys were able to set up a little headstone for him in an empty field near Hogwarts. That was his home. It felt like the most appropriate place.

Your relationship may have been difficult at times, especially with everything with his father. But he was the sweetest, funniest, and just overall best boyfriend-best partner-you ever had. No one before or after him made you feel the way you did with him. His death completely broke your heart into pieces, and never even fully recovered.

After a few years, your parents set you up with a man your age, Nathaniel. He was sweet and kind and you got along with him just fine, but he wasn't Mattheo. But you being with him made your parents happy and you didn't completely hate him. He was better than the other guys you dated, other than Mattheo, obviously. And he never saw your love for your late boyfriend as competition. He would support you and help you with your grief. Which made you feel a little worse about everything.

You liked the guy, but you didn't love him. That sounds so awful, but it was true. Your heart belonged to Mattheo. Even in his death.

Still, he was second best to Mattheo. And since his death, you felt so lonely. No one could really blame you for trying to move on.

So when Nathaniel asked you to marry him, you agreed. You went through the motions, pretending the wedding was with Mattheo instead. You picked out the colors you talked about previously, the flowers, the songs, everything was what Mattheo and you already decided. Your fiance didn't really care anyways about wedding planning. He just wanted you to be happy.

Your poor bridesmaids thought it was about you finding the perfect dress, and that was part of it, but it was mostly just knowing it was the most perfect dress for your and Mattheo's wedding.

The only part that made you break down was wedding dress shopping. You could hear Mattheo giving his opinions about the dresses. “Too low cut, too lacy, too simple, not you, absolutely not.” But the one dress you put on where you could just hear him say ‘yes’ and admire you, it made you burst into tears.

The wedding that won't happen because he's dead and you're marrying Nathaniel.

Once the wedding was planned and set, the time felt like it flew by. Suddenly you were in the bride's room getting your hair and makeup done and getting into your wedding dress. You asked everyone to leave once you were ready and just sat down. The noise of the rain coming down hitting the window was the only sound you could hear.

Of course it had to rain on your wedding day. Though, it was fitting.

You looked at the pictures of you and Mattheo on your phone, trying not to cry and ruin your makeup.

“I'm sorry, Mattheo. It should be you. But you're not here. I…” You swallowed, turning your phone off and looking up. You had so much more to say. Like how you wanted to grow old with him and marry him and, and, and…

Merlin, you were still in love with your dead boyfriend, but marrying some poor guy just so you wouldn't be alone and make your parents happy. How shitty is that?

Maybe you could grow to love Nathaniel. He isn't bad.

If only you could shut off that annoying voice.

But he isn't Mattheo.

One of your bridesmaids knocked on the door to let you know it was about time to walk down the aisle.

You sighed before taking a deep breath and composing yourself. You left the room and got ready with your beautiful bouquet of flowers.

“Sunflowers, because they remind me of us since they face the sun to live, just like how I need you to live.” Mattheo's words echoed in your head as you looked at the flowers.

You looked up in time to hear the piano playing as the first couple walked down the aisle. You wanted to burst into tears again. This is not what you wanted. It should be Mattheo at the end of the aisle. Not Nathaniel.

The rest of the couples went, leaving you by yourself, about to turn the corner to take your first step when the main door behind you burst open. You turned to look at the cause of the noise and saw him.

Mattheo fucking Riddle.

He was standing there, still in the doorway, out of breath, drenched from the rain outside. He was exactly how you remembered him. Though his hair was longer, showing the curls better.

You couldn't even speak, you were so stunned.

“Don't marry him.” The words rushed out Mattheo's mouth as he was still catching his breath.

“What?” It was all you could manage.

“Don't fucking marry him.” He said, coming over to you now.

“I'm not hallucinating, am I?” You whispered to him when he was standing right in front of you.

“No, no. I'm sorry. It's a long story, but when I heard you were getting married, I couldn't…” He swallowed, looking down at the wedding dress. “Please tell me I'm not too late.”

“You're alive. What are you doing here? Where have you been?” You asked, all sorts of emotions running through you.

“Stopping your wedding. God, you're so beautiful.” He said, cupping your cheek with one of his hands. “Don't marry him. Run away with me. And I'll answer everything.”

“Mattheo, I…” You sighed in disbelief.

“Please. I'm here now. Please?” He moved his hand off of your cheek to grab one of your hands.

You looked behind you to where everyone was waiting for you just around the corner.

“(Y/N), love, please? I'm giving you the rest of my life. Just walk out of here with me.”

You could hear the piano stalling the music as they waited for you and you saw your mom peek her head around the corner to see the delay, her jaw dropping at seeing Mattheo.

He smiled before turning back to the exit and pulling you with him in a run outside. You hair, makeup, and dress were all ruined within 10 seconds, but you couldn't care less when the man you loved for years was now running away with you.

“I'm sorry.” You told her before dropping the bouquet and turning back to Mattheo.

#slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle angst

129 notes · View notes

abbysimsfun · 3 days ago

Text

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 84 (Checking In On the Clinic - and Another Baby Boom??)

cw: it's not a Conther baby I'll just say that right now. Sorry!

On top of her responsibilities to her family, Heather worked hard to keep Buttercup Pet Clinic's great reputation, but life at work was rarely easy.

She'd recently noticed a dip in her ratings and was tech-savvy enough to realize she'd been targeted. She traced the IPs to an address connected to George Brindleton's old company and gave the evidence to Conrad.

"He's trying to hurt my business because he's still sore over losing his, but as long as he's not going after the kids, I can take whatever he wants to throw at me. My clients know how good we are."

Conrad remembered his threat to sniff around Brindleton & Sons old financial files, but with this evidence he had cause for something better. "We're filing a restraining order," he insisted. "For you and the kids, because next time he might try to do more than hire a bot farm to drag your reviews down. But if I have to stay away from him, too, I can't look into his finances, if it comes to it."

"Is a restraining order really necessary? What if it makes him more upset? I'll always let you know if I hear from him again, but I'd love to just forget we ever met him."

Conrad nodded apologetically. "It's necessary. He just needed to do something stupid like this before I could file for one. Just keep focused on your clinic. I've got my eye on George Brindleton."

Heather tried to increase the value of her clinic's furnishings, but she lacked a real aesthetic eye and now she also had marketing expenses. With every passing day she worked hard, and though sometimes it never seemed enough, George Brindleton wouldn't break her.

One cold winter morning, Kaori Hayashi, Heather's best vet tech, tended to local blacksmith Abby Harms' Australian Shepherd, Jax. As Heather finished with another patient, Spencer Pancakes surprised her old friend when she brought her dog, JJ, to the clinic.

It wasn't that she'd brought her pet, as she had so many times before, but Spencer sported a sizable baby bump, too.

"Spencer! I can't believe it! I thought the doctors said-"

"They were wrong!" (Mod conflicts! Sorta wrecks the surrogacy storyline but also whatever.) "Needless to say, we didn't expect it. We kept it to ourselves until Dr. Scott said we were healthy. We wanted to tell you!"

"Are you feeling okay about it? I know you didn't want a big family."

Spencer sighed. "Everett's thrilled. I had to move another work trip to Selvadorada, but I'm making the best of it. I took my mom's advice and started painting, and it's nice that Lydia and I are pregnant at the same time. Since it's her first and I need all the help I can get, we're kind of in it together. The pregnancy really does feel like a miracle, and Everett's an incredible father."

"Your boys have a great mom, too." Spencer offered a pitiful smile, and Heather remembered her last visit with Spencer's father-in-law. "Bob came in with one of his cats back in the fall and he mentioned he was worried about you. I kept meaning to call and plan a trip like he suggested, but life's been so busy, and...I didn't want to believe what he was saying, I guess. It didn't feel like any of my business."

(Quick for new readers, Heather doesn't want to intrude on their family because Jett is her biological son with Everett, conceived via science as Heather was their surrogate. She's tried to set a clear boundary to avoid any confusion for or about toddler Jett.)

Spencer nodded. "Bob means well. And I'm doing okay, really. The baby kicks all the time. Like right now. Here: feel. Since we moved back to Henford, it's been better. We haven't had any snow yet!"

"Don't remind me. I miss the mild winters in Henford, but Ash really loves the snow. It's great enjoying it through his eyes."

"The boys love living with my parents and running through the fields like we did. Everett's family comes around all the time, and he's happier at the parish in Henford. Oh! Would you believe that old fox, Pawbin Hood, is still alive?! He's still wearing the Sherwood Forest get up you bought from the creature keeper when we were fourteen!"

"I guess I'm not surprised; I swear, the foxes will outlive us all. Everett thinks they react differently to the wild mushrooms than sims do." Gently, she steered the conversation back to her friend. "And all of that sounds great for everybody else. But what about you, Spence?"

"On days I'm feeling overwhelmed, I'm just glad everyone's there to pick up the slack."

"What about work?"

"Paused for now, I guess. At this point I won't get back to Selvadorada until this one's out of diapers." She pointed to her bump. "But if you can get away, you should come with me next time I go. You're just as good at identifying artifacts, and you love exploring the jungle as much as I do."

"I would love that," Heather said, awash with nostalgia over their first trip to the jungle for Spencer's bachelorette. After their quick visit, she tended to JJ - who was fine other than a mild case of lava nose - and she sent them on their way with a refill of organic disinfectant spray to keep treating him.

Later that afternoon, Heather took a moment to relax and hydrate when she was met by another surprise visitor. The woman walked in heavily pregnant and disguised under a bandana and sunglasses, but Heather recognized her name from her digital sign-in sheet. "Emi Wise? You used to be Emi Kudo, didn't you? You were a vet tech here when I was in high school!"

Emi looked around to ensure she didn't recognize any other faces in the lobby. "I remember you and your parents," she admitted. "When I used VetConnect to find a clinic to help my Olive, I realized Sorrel Jackson sold you this place. I like the rebrand, and I liked it even better when I saw you got away from Landgraab Corp. I think you might be the only vet in Simlandia who can help us. That's the only reason I risked coming back here."

As Heather healed Olive in an exam room, Emi noted the place hadn't changed much since she'd worked there. "You've rebranded, and you should really invest in a whole new look. My husband's an architect, and I think he could design something incredible. When Olive has to come back for her follow-up appointment, I'll bring him with me so he can get a look at the place, if you want."

"That sounds great, actually. I'm always looking for ways to really spruce this place up!"

Heather called Conrad to set one more plate at the table for dinner before she invited Emi to her home next door. Grateful for Heather's hospitality so she and Olive could rest a little before their long journey home, Emi opened up about her life in the years since she'd left Brindleton Bay in such a hurry.

"I had an affair with a married man, and he chose his wife, of course. I was so young and naive. I had no idea what to do, but I knew I couldn't stay. So I bought a one-way plane ticket to Evergreen Valley because it felt far enough away from here. I met a man and fell in love a month after I got to town, and he raised the twins like they were his own from the day they were born. We had a son together, and this one will be a girl."

"It sounds to me like everything worked out for the best. You don't have to tell me who the father is, but there are rumours around town."

(Basically, it's a good thing Kaori finished up with Jax and Mrs. Harms before Emi and Olive showed up!)

Emi's face went white. "Please don't tell him or his wife I was here. I promised I wouldn't ever ask for a thing for the boys, but if they see me here they might think I want to cause trouble."

"Your secret's safe with me," Heather promised.

True to her word, Emi brought her husband Layne for Olive's follow up, and he and Heather spoke about plans to revamp the clinic completely - a total rebuild, with class, elegance, and in keeping with Brindleton Bay's coastal charms.

Buttercup Pet Clinic was a place where people felt comfortable being open and vulnerable, and Heather heard her fair share of gossip inside the clinic walls. She was becoming something of a neighbourhood confidante, and took it seriously when people trusted her with their problems. With this in mind, Layne offered to add a small cafe - a relaxed gathering place for owners to wait for their pets and sip coffee. Heather was excited, and couldn't wait for spring to get started on construction.

As a bonafide Friend of the Animals, Heather was pretty great with her human friends, too. And she wanted her clinic to reflect that. ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

NOTE: So my game had ANOTHER baby boom but now I think I'm maxed and need some elders to expire before more nooboos will generate randomly. That said, in addition to Emi and her husband (Layne Wise originally known as Leoric Weild), Everett & Spencer, and Lydia & Alexander, River and Cassandra are expecting again, too! That's two more grandkids for Bella!

I checked on the Gen 1 Nesbitt household, where River and Cassandra live with Neal, Daisy, and their son Michael (plus dog Bernadette and cat Duchess) and pregnant Cass got on an autonomous video call with her mom. 🥰

NOTE 2: It's been on my list to get Heather and Spencer back to Selvadorada for almost a decade (in game!). I'm trying to complete the Jungle Explorer aspiration with Spencer, but there really has not been a good time as they both have small kids or keep getting pregnant. The aspiration isn't a requirement for this generation and more a bonus goal for me, but I really want to do it so stay tuned!

Heather's had Adventurous as a bonus trait since they went on their first trip together, and ever since then she's just been able to use it for wild woohoo and being eager and excited about the Ambrosia Society's challenge, whereas Conrad was a lot more cautious (about the latter - the wild woohoo doesn't trouble him at all!)

NOTE 3: As always, I thank @rinseesims for adding the iconic Leoric Weild from her iconic UDC to the Sims 4 gallery because he makes a great dad/architect in this universe!

#sims 4 #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 legacy #sims in bloom #ts4 #ts4 gameplay #ts4 legacy #ts4 screenshots #sims 4 story #ts4 story #legacy challenge #sims legacy #ts4 legacy challenge #gen 2 #brindleton bay #cassandra goth

48 notes · View notes

becauseicantthinkwritings · 2 days ago

Text

Angel of Small Death

Part 7 in my Halloween mini series!

Dark Priest!Billy Russo, Dark Priest!Matt Murdock, Dark!Frank Castle

Warnings: Major blasphemy, dub-con, corruption, spanking (with a Bible), very very inappropriate use of said Bible, oral (f), edging, being held in place.

You check on Billy in the morning.

He has no recollection of ever being in the attic, no clue how he got there or even why. The last thing he remembered was going to sleep the night before.

He looks so concerned, so worried, that you don't bother to tell him about the things he did, the things you wanted him to do.

Your heart hurts a little at the thought, that all of his words had no meaning, that those hungry, ravenous kisses weren't meant for you.

It helps you grow more complacent with the idea of Father Murdock's punishment, that your loyalties were to God, and this monastery, and a few moments of weakness couldn't define you.

Your head is held high when you step into Matt's office at midday, prepared for whatever punishment he would dole out.

You would take it, and you would grow from it.

But you stiffen when you step in to find a person you’re not expecting.

“Mister Castle?” You ask curiously, your stomach going queasy with anxiety.

Frank turns, lifting his head from the bible in his hands, looking at you in an expectant and eager way that has you second guessing the strength of your resolve.

“Hey sweetheart,” He murmurs, snapping the book shut, “you’re right on time.”

“On time?” You question, wondering exactly how much he knew. Glancing around the room you note that Matthew isn’t even here.

He gives you a cryptic smile, moving toward you, placing the bible onto Matthew’s desk, before stopping in front of you.

His face is contemplative, stern, he raises a hand, trailing the backs of his fingers over your cheek.

Your breath catches as his touch tingles across your skin.

“Billy keeps touching you when he knows he shouldn’t.” His voice ripples across your skin, that spot between your legs warms slightly.

You swallow, feeling the need to defend your longtime friend.

“He was just confused, he didn’t mean to.”

“No?” Frank asks, “And what about the night he came into your room to taste you? Was he confused then?”

Your eyebrows draw together.

Had that actually happened? Was it not a vivid dream? How did Frank know about it?

You can’t find the words to express your disbelief, searching his face for any indication that he was lying to you.

“That didn’t happen.” You protest weakly.

Instead of responding, his smile only deepens.

The sound of the door locking behind you draws your attention, and you turn to see Father Murdock standing at the door.

“I’m happy to see you came,” Matthew says, and you frown, opening your mouth to tell him that you hadn’t had much of a choice.

“Oh, I wouldn’t miss this.” Frank answers. You glance at him, your brain teetering on overdrive as you try to fit pieces together that don’t go quite right.

Matthew leans his cane against the door, carefully approaching the both of you.

“And you, little one, are you ready to accept your sins and work towards redemption?”

You straighten.

“I am.”

“Good.” he says with finality, approaching you.

He reaches out, fingers finding your rosary around your neck, tracing the pearls.

“Tell me about this.” He says.

You swallow, glancing down at the rosary in question.

“It’s been passed down through each Mother Superior for generations. I inherited it when she passed. God bless her soul.”

“I see, and how did she die?”

You blink, wondering how he hasn’t heard the bizarre story yet.

“She got sick, they all did, every senior person in the abbey. It was horrible.”

“You poor thing.” Frank says, stepping closer behind you, and you turn to look up at him.

You give him a weak smile.

“It happens, I guess. The Lord’s reasons are not always known to us.”

He chuckles, lifting a hand to hover it over your rosary as well, never actually touching it.

“I suppose so.” He murmurs.

“Remove it,” Matthew’s voice interjects, “We are going to begin your punishment now.”

You nod, shakily tugging the rosary over your head, wrapping it around your fist with the expectation that you’re going to pray.

“Bend over my desk.”

You freeze.

“Wh-what?”

Matthew angles his head, saying Frank’s name, your eyes dart between the men as some kind of silent exchange happens.

Frank smiles politely, reaching out to grip your shoulders.

“I don’t think he wants to repeat himself, sweetheart.” Frank says, turning your body and guiding you toward the wooden desk.

Your hips pressed flush to the desk, you gasp as he presses on your shoulder, bending you over the table.

When you try to protest, and raise your body, Frank reaches to grip your wrists, pressing them down.

It renders you somewhat immobile, Frank moves to sit in the chair right in front of you, almost at eye level, while he keeps his grip firm on your wrists.

“What is going on? What kind of punishment is this?” You ask, wriggling, confused as to how this will redeem you in any way.

You feel hands settle on your backside, tugging your skirt up slowly.

“This punishment,” Matthew says behind you, “Is designed to make you reflect on your sins, to associate any thoughts of defilement with discomfort.”

Frank’s grip tightens on your wrists, drawing your attention.

“Don’t panic,” He whispers, leaning in close to you so that his voice is right in your ear, “Just look at me, and it’ll be over before you know it.”

His eyes do calm you, the warmth of his hands and the smell of sage that fills your senses eases your nerves.

You let out a slow breath, nodding at Frank.

Your eyes widen dramatically in the next moment when you feel your undergarments tugged down the length of your legs.

Your lower half is exposed to Father Murdock, and you stiffen when you feel his bare hand grip at the flesh of your cheek firmly.

“Let’s start simple,” Matt starts, “Was that the first time you’ve let a man touch you?”

You swallow.

“No.”

Something firm comes down on your rear, it makes a dull sound before you feel a gentle sting.

You turn your head, catching sight of the Bible that Frank had been reading earlier in Father Murdock’s hands, but as soon as you see it, Frank’s free hand is on your jaw, twisting your vision back to him.

He shakes his head.

“Keep those pretty eyes on me.” He commands.

You shiver, nodding, mouth dropping open at the flood of sensations you were experiencing, that… wasn’t quite bad at all.

“When was the first time you let someone defile you?” Matthew asks.

Frank's eyes study your face as you contemplate your answer.

“I kissed Billy, i-in the gazebo in the cemetery, when I was around seventeen.”

You gasp, feeling another hit against your rear, your eyes rolling in pleasure for just a moment.

“Is that all?”

“N-no, I kissed him a few days ago, in the same place.”

The bible hits you again.

“He’s the only man you’ve ever kissed?”

“Yes.” You answer honestly.

“But he’s not the only man you desire.” Matthew continues with a statement, and not a question.

“Um,” You murmur, trying to stall.

The bible comes down harder on your flesh, and you can’t help the moan that leaves your mouth.

“Please, Father Murdock, I’m sorry.”

His palm presses to your heated rear, fingers dipping down until they brush against your most intimate parts.

“You don’t feel sorry, little one, you feel wet.”

A whine leaves your throat, his fingers probe you, gliding over your cunt, pausing on your aching bud.

“Is this what you want? Does it excite you to be touched like this?”

You don’t answer, dropping your head in shame.

Another spank, this time a little harder than you expect.

Tears pool in your eyes.

“Yes, Father.” You answer honestly.

Another hit, followed by another. The pain stings, your body hot, the little spot between your legs throbbing, begging for attention.

You feel his hand, pulling your legs further apart, before something rubs against your center.

You tip your head back, mouth open, but before any sound can get out, Frank is pushing his thumb into your mouth.

“Not too loud, we don’t want anyone to hear you.”

Tears slip from the outer corners of your eyes, down your cheeks to pool in his hand, Matthew rubs the spine of the bible between your thighs in a slow, agonising movement.

You moan around Frank’s thumb, eyes fluttering shut as pleasure you’ve never felt before assails you.

Frank’s rough thumb sways over your thumb, you whimper, opening your eyes to meet his.

Matthew continues to give you pleasure, instead of pain, rubbing the indented leather spine along the seam of your cunt, pressing in, circling against you for a few moments.

Your fingers curl around your rosary, an aching throb begging you to tilt your hips up and rock your body further onto Matthew’s bible.

He spanks you again, and your only response is to suck on Frank’s fingers more passionately.

You flutter your pleading eyes at him, trying for the first time, to seduce, to encourage him to pleasure your body.

Frank smiles, dark eyes that seem to bore right into your soul, he leans forward to delicately glide his nose against yours.

“You take punishment so beautifully, sweetheart.”

You lean into the palm of his hand, accepting the compliment gratefully.

Your head swarms with pleasure, approaching that peak so easily you can almost taste it, Matt behind you, quietly pleasuring you.

You groan in dismay when he stops, feeling his hands smooth over the curves of your behind.

Your face is so close to Frank’s that you don’t react when you feel his tongue dart out to lick your tears away. You’re surprised at the way it feels, very different from Billy’s rougher, longer, an oddness to it that you cannot put your finger on.

You accept your fate, at the mercy of these two men, wondering briefly how Billy would fit into the mix.

Frank pulls his thumb out of your mouth, gripping your jaw softly so that he can press his mouth to yours.

At the same time, you feel a tongue dart out to lick between your legs.

You feel like putty, being molded anew, as Frank kisses your lips and Matthew kisses your cunt.

You gasp into Frank’s mouth, feel him chuckle, his lips taste sweet, soft, his tongue- dextrous and wicked, delving into your mouth with expert precision.

Humming, you note hazily that Frank’s tongue has two points, the movements are vile, delicious, you want to feel like this permanently.

Matt’s tongue is no less capable, licking hungrily at your wetness, humming into your delicate skin, kissing the areas that he’s punished with his bible.

Your toes curl, fingers tight around your rosary, head floating. Your body trembles, your breath stalling in your chest as bliss approaches.

Matthew’s tongue withdraws, and you find that the disappointment is almost too much to bear.

You stiffen, eyes searching Frank’s, begging for something more as Matthew rights your underwear, pulling your skirt over your legs.

Frank withdraws too, you glance down, watching as he removes his hand from around your wrists, his palm holding odd marks where your rosary has touched him.

“Why?” You whisper helplessly.

“Punishments are not supposed to feel good, little one, they’re supposed to make you want to be good.”

Your body responds eagerly to Matthew’s words. You find that he’s right, you want to be good, you want- more of what he gave you.

“How do I be good?” You ask timidly.

Matthew helps you stand on shaky legs, his mouth- pink and glistening- no doubt with your arousal.

“Obedience.” He answers your question, carefully untangling your rosary from your hands and placing it around your neck.

He takes a second, running his thumb across your bottom lip gently, the gesture heavy with affection.

“I have to go now, but I'll see you later?” He murmurs.

You nod, looking up at him with glassy eyes, wondering if you were too much above begging for release.

You don't get a chance to contemplate it further, before he leaves.

You drop your head, contemplating your actions, before turning to look at Frank.

“I'm confused.”

Frank chuckles, moving around the table to stand before you.

“What's troubling you?”

“I was just punished for letting Billy almost defile me last night, and in the process, he- you both- well you defiled me in a way too.”

“That does sound confusing, yes.” He agrees, stepping in closer. You take a deep breath, enjoying his masculine scent.

“I think, sweetheart, you just have to accept that these things are barely going to make sense from now on.”

Your eyebrows draw together in further confusion. He reaches up, fingers stroking your jaw to bring your attention back to him.

“You really are beautiful.” He says, deep in thought. You feel heat rising to your cheeks.

“Th- thank you.” You whisper.

“When was the last time he was seen?” Sister April asks.

You wait, listening to Sister Margaret's mumbled response.

“Perhaps at morning mass yesterday? Definitely not after that. Father Murdock even confirmed that he wasn't in the dormitory last night.”

“It was pouring last night,” you recall, “Could he have gotten lost somewhere?”

Sister April lifts her shoulders.

“It’s possible, everyone is looking for him, hopefully he is found soon.”

You nod in agreement, concerned for one of the monks residing here.

You’d been so caught up with Billy, Matthew and Frank, that you’d let your duties to your people fall short, and now someone was missing.

It was hard not to blame yourself.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #my writings #the punisher #dark!billy russo #matt murdock #matt murdock smut #dark!matt murdock #dark!matt murdock x reader #dark!frank castle x reader #dark!frank castle

36 notes · View notes

simplydannie · 2 days ago

Text

Trigger Warning ‼️ : mention of pregnancy loss and blood.

A small story focusing on the twins parents, and Vivian’s beginning journey of trying to have a baby. Before the twins, the journey wasn’t always rainbows and butterflies… unfortunately it involved loss.

It was about three in the morning when Vivian awoke.

The blankets were draped over her and her husband after sharing one amazing night. Vaughn was asleep, his arms wrapped around his wife tightly, his face nuzzled at the back of her neck. She giggled gently trying to unwrap his arms from around her torso.

“Baby,” She laughed, “Baby, I have to go to the restroom.”

“Mmhm.” He murmured in his sleep as hestitantly let her go, “….Hurry back..” He was still half asleep, facing the ceiling with his arms draped over him. Vivian couldn’t help it, he was to handsome, she kissed his cheek before getting out of bed. She clothed herself with a robe and reached into her night stand pulling out a small box she had been hiding for weeks….a pregnancy test. Tonight wasn’t the only night her and Vaughn were together. She’d been keeping track. They’ve been married three years now, and Vivian has yet to concieve, being the way they were with each other, she had to get pregnant at some point…and she was hoping this was it.

Vivian waited twenty minutes pacing back and forth as she lay the test down in the sink, “Please, please, please, please…” She prayed over and over again. Her and Vaughn weren’t using any blockage to prevent her from being able to concieve….so why hasnt’ she yet? Viviain looked at the clock on the bathroom wall, one more minute.

“Please, please, please….A baby…Just one baby at least.” She continued to pray. Time was up….Taking a deep breath she leaned over the sink to look at the pregnacy test….

….. There it was…..

….. a positive pink sign.

She squealed, quickly covering her mouth. Vivian grabbed the test and hid it somewhere good; she wasn’t going to tell Vaughn, not just yet. She was going to wait just a little bit more.

Vivian looked at herself in the mirror, a smile growing across her face, “Finally!” She beamed. She had wanted to make him a father so, so bad. She wanted to give him the reason to leave this lifestyle behind and maybe just get out of Rageous all together…. And finally they could.

Vivian turned off the bathroom lights and made it back to bed. She crawled in next to her husband and hugged him tight, unable to wipe the smile off her face. Vivian nuzzled her face into his bare chest as he wrapped his arms around her once more… everything was perfect…

A week passes when she’s finally able to get a doctor to come around their home. Vaughn was out, so she had to be quick….

“Well, you’re nearly two months pregnant.” The older Rageon smiled as he began putting his things away.

“Two months? I’ve been pregnant all this time? I didn’t feel any symptoms or anything.” She places a hand over her stomach.

The doctor laughed, “You don’t need to show symptoms. It’ll just happen. The baby is looking good, so please, continue to take care of yourself just as you’ve been doing. I’ll see you again in another four weeks?”

…Till then, now that she had the confirmation, she began planning on how to break the news to Vaughn. Vivian wanted it to be special…it would be their first baby after all. He noticed her more than happy mood, the way she was much more affectionate. Vaughn was curious as to what surprise she was hiding, what was it she was planning. Before heading off one day he decided to ask.

“Okay. There’s something your planning. What is it?” He cocked his head to the side, a smile on his face.

A small blush came to her face, was she really that bad at keeping a surprise a secret? “Well, if you must know. It’s a surprise. A surprise you wont know about till you get back home. Now out!”

He chuckled, “Normally you don’t want me to leave, and now you’re practically kicking me out of my own home?”

“Yes. I love you. Be careful. Now shoo.” Vivian proceeded to push him out towards the door, but with maximum effort, he was nearly twice her height. Vaughn chuckled as she continued to try and push him out the door as he effortlessly just stood there, “Vaughn!” She complained.

“I haven’t had my goodbye kiss you know.”

“….You’re a menace.” She smiled grabbing his face and pulling him into a deep long kiss, “There. Now leave! I need to finish getting your surprise ready.”

“Fine. Fine.” He smirked as he walked off.

“…Stay safe.” Vivian murmured as she closed the front door, “Okay. I have to finish setting everything up!”

The hours went by and Vaughn finally made it back to the manor. When he walked in it was quiet, no Vivian to greet him as she normally did. A house maid walked by, “Where is Vivian?” He asked as he set aside his things.

“Oh, the mistress has been upstairs. Seems like she was getting something ready for you, sir.” She gave him a light smile.

He nodded, “Thank you.” He made his way up the steps towards their bedroom, “Vivian?” He knocked, when he heard no answer he pushed open the door….

CONGRATULATIONS! YOU HAVE BEEN PROMOTED TO DAD!

The banner read across their bedroom. He was in shock. This was her surprise to him…all this time….she was pregnant. He wobbled at his knees a bit as the realization hit him….he was going to be a father. A mixture of emotions ran through Vaughn: happiness, joy, anxiety. He wont deny that having a baby with Vivian was one of his goals, but would he be a good father? Especially in the life he was brought into? One thing was for sure….there was another precious life he was going to protect.

“Vivian! Vivian, this was your surprise all along?! Come here so I can hug you, darling!” He walked into the room looking for his wife, “Vivian?”

CRASH.

A sound was heard coming from the master bathroom. Vaughn bolted,sliding to a halt as he saw Vivian kneeling on the floor….blood surrounding her.

“Oh my god!” He rushed to her side, grabbing some towels, cleaning her up, “Baby, what happened? Look at me. What happened?” He brought her face to meet his, tears falling down her face twisted in agony and pain.

“….I just….I just needed to use the restroom…then…Blood….it wouldn’t stop….why is there so much blood.” She began to shiver, her voice cracking as the tears began to spill out again. Vaughns eyes trailed where the blood was coming from…his heart sank to the pit of his stomach.

“….Oh Vivian…” He pulled her to an embrace as she broke down once again. She clung tightly to him as her body shook, letting out her pain and cries.

“…We were going to have a baby…a baby….everything was fine. The baby was fine…” She cried, burying her face into his chest, “Why? Why?”

“I don’t know sweetheart. I don’t know…. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“….No…no….I’m sorry….You were finally going to be dad…” She sobbed, “You were finally going to be a dad….i messed it up…”

Vaughn grabbed Vivians face, making sure she looked him square in the eye, “Don’t you dare think that you hear me. Don’t you dare. This is not in your control Vivian. Because if it was you wouldn’t have lost it. You would’ve fight to keep it….This is not your fault do you hear me. This isn’t the end. One day, Viv. One day.”

Her lipped quivered and she clung tightly to him. Her cries filled with pain and agony, “….Hold me….Just hold me and don’t let go…”

“…Always, Viv.”

Hearing the cries, house maids and guards came up to find them, but Vaughn signaled them to leave…he didn’t want anyone helping his Vivian another than him right now. He wanted to be her comfort…and so he was. He allowed her to cry in his arms till she couldn’t no more. Vaughn bathed her and changed her. Carried her to the bed, tucking her in, then went back to clean the blood…

When he went to check on her, he saw she had fallen asleep. Vaughn went to turn off the lights to leave the room.

“…No…No stay with me..” He heard her say. She looked at him with red eyes, holding her hand out to him, “…I don’t want to be alone…and I don’t want anyone else….Just you..” She told him. Vaughn smiled. He went to change himself then crawled into the bed next to her, wrapping his arms around her. She nuzzled her face into his chest….whenever she was like this she felt safe, comforted, secure….

“…Never let me go…”

“….Never, Viv…Never.”

35 notes · View notes

idkyetxoxo · 17 hours ago

Text

Six | Enchanted | Aemond Targaryen

Word count - 3795

Warnings - None

<- prev || masterlist || next ->

A week had passed since that night in the pool, yet the memory of it clung to me like a half-forgotten dream, teasing the edges of my mind. The gardens were far behind me now, replaced by the lively hum of the common room.

I lay sprawled across Nymor's lap, his fingers absently combing through my hair, while the raucous banter of his friends swirled around us like a familiar, comforting melody.

Their teasing voices were a pleasant distraction from the thoughts that had been haunting me since the pool—thoughts of Aemond and the dangerous pull he seemed to have on me.

The negotiations between my father and Viserys were progressing, each day pulling me closer to the inevitable.

The impending marriage loomed over me like a storm cloud, dark and inescapable.

Everyone around me treated it as a certainty as if it had been written in the stars long before I ever had a say in the matter.

But deep down, a part of me still fought against it, clinging to the hope that there might be some way out, some path that didn't end with me standing beside Aemond Targaryen, bound to him for life.

And yet, even as I yearned to escape, I couldn't fully banish the memory of him.

His sharp gaze, the way his touch had set fire to my skin—it haunted me, even as I tried to shake it off.

There was something about Aemond that intrigued me, something beyond the cold mask of duty and power. I didn't want to admit it, but I couldn't deny the truth any longer—I didn't completely despise him.

If anything, I was captivated by the man beneath the dragon prince facade.

But then there was the other truth—the one that gnawed at me like an open wound. His family had laid waste to my homeland, without a second thought, without remorse.

And that was something I could never forget, no matter how tempting the man himself might be.

"What are you thinking about?" Nymor's voice broke through the fog of my thoughts, his fingers prodding my cheek in an attempt to bring me back to the present.

"My doom," I muttered dramatically, swatting his hand away. His friends erupted into laughter, the sound rich and warm, filling the room like the flickering hearth.

"So awfully cynical, princess. Where is that carefree girl we know and love?" Yoren teased, nudging my legs with a grin, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement.

I sat up, crossing my legs as I sighed. "I don't want to leave Dorne," I admitted, the weight of the words settling heavily on my chest.

Leaving this place—the sun-drenched gardens, the sea breeze that tasted of salt and freedom—felt like losing a part of myself.

"Then don't," Yoren said with a casual shrug, as if it were that simple. His flippancy stung, though I knew he didn't mean it to.

"It's that one-eyed fool, isn't it?" Nymor's voice was tinged with both annoyance and sympathy, his hand resting lightly on my shoulder.

I rolled my eyes, but the mention of Aemond sent a shiver through me, a mixture of frustration and something I didn't want to name.

"Ah, we've heard the whispers of a union in the making," Maric chimed in with mock seriousness, raising his brows in exaggerated intrigue.

"My father insists upon it," I mumbled, leaning forward to grab Yoren's cup. He jerked it out of reach, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

"Get your own wine, princess," Yoren teased, his eyes dancing with mischief.

"Marry one of us," Maric suggested with a chuckle, though there was a glimmer of something sincere in his eyes. "Stay in Dorne forever. You'd never have to leave."

The idea was as tempting as it was impossible, and I let out a hollow laugh.

"If only it were that easy," I said, but even as the words left my lips, I couldn't help but wonder.

What would my life look like if I stayed? If I let myself forget the weight of duty and allowed myself to indulge in the carefree moments that Dorne offered?

Yoren leaned forward suddenly, his face contorted in an exaggerated pout, making ridiculous kissing noises that sent me into a fit of giggles.

In the midst of his antics, I seized my chance, swiping his cup of wine with a victorious grin.

"Give it back!" he exclaimed, lunging after me, his fingers closing around my wrists as he loomed over me with a mock stern expression.

I stuck my tongue out at him in defiance, holding the cup just out of his reach. "Make me," I teased, the playful challenge lighting a spark in my eyes.

Nymor laughed beside me, shaking his head as he playfully slapped Maric's chest. "Looks like you've met your match, Yoren."

The warmth of their laughter, the teasing banter—it was a world away from the heavy tension that followed me like a shadow.

For a moment, I let myself get lost in it, in the easy companionship of these men who didn't expect anything from me except a shared drink and a laugh.

I flirted with the thought of staying here forever, of letting these light-hearted moments fill the spaces that Aemond's memory couldn't touch.

But no matter how much I tried to distract myself, I couldn't entirely forget him.

The memory of his touch, the intensity of his gaze—it was like a flame that flickered at the edge of my mind, refusing to be extinguished.

Even as Yoren hovered over me, his playful grin inches from mine, I felt the pull of that night in the pool, a lingering thread that tied me to Aemond, whether I wanted it or not.

"Wine," Yoren demanded again, though there was no real force behind his words, just the playful tug-of-war between us.

I grinned up at him, the spark of rebellion still dancing in my eyes. "Come and get it," I challenged, holding the cup just out of reach as he leaned in closer.

"Princess," a voice called from the doorway, and the lively room fell silent as all eyes turned to see the Targaryen siblings standing in the threshold.

The sudden shift in energy was palpable like the air had been sucked out, leaving a charged stillness behind.

"Are we interrupting?" Aegon drawled, his smirk widening as he took in the scene before him.

Yoren, still holding my wrists in a playful grip, dropped them immediately, stepping back with a sheepish smile. The light-heartedness evaporated as if snuffed out, leaving only the prickling tension.

"Yes," Nymor responded dryly, his voice laced with amusement, though I could sense the edge beneath it.

He remained seated, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp as they flicked between the intruders.

Yoren and Maric's laughter returned, momentarily dispelling the tension like a wave washing over the room, a weak attempt to restore the lightness that had been so abruptly shattered.

"Your father sent us," Helaena added softly, her voice a contrast to her brother's.

She was gentler, always was, and there was something kind in her gaze as it lingered on me, as though she understood more than she let on. But it wasn't me she was looking at with that subtle interest—I noticed her gaze flicker toward Nymor.

Her fascination was evident, and despite the current tension, I couldn't help but wonder how deep her interest ran.

"If you're too busy entertaining others, we can leave," Aemond interjected, his voice sharp, dripping with venom that cut through the air like a blade.

His words were pointed, but his eye, his gaze—it was all on me.

There was no mistaking the jealousy simmering beneath his composed exterior, the barely concealed possessiveness that rippled through his voice.

Nymor stiffened beside me, his usual easy-going demeanour darkening as he rose to his full height.

"Are you insinuating something about my sister?" His voice was low, but it seethed with barely-contained fury, his eyes locked onto Aemond's with a promise of violence.

The room, which had been buzzing with life only moments ago, now felt like a powder keg ready to explode.

Aegon, sensing the rising tension, looked thoroughly amused by it all, his smirk widening as if he was eager to see where this was going.

But before things could escalate further, Helaena tugged him by the arm, pulling him back with a roll of her eyes, her patience clearly worn thin.

"We should go," she said firmly, dragging a protesting Aegon along with her. He looked disappointed as if the potential for a brawl had been the highlight of his day, but he allowed himself to be led out.

Still, his laughter echoed faintly down the corridor as the door swung shut behind them.

Yoren and Maric quickly exchanged glances before quietly standing and shuffling out of the room. They knew better than to stick around for what was coming.

Now it was just the three of us.

Aemond didn't move. His gaze, as cold and unrelenting as the winter winds, remained fixed on Nymor.

"Perhaps I am insinuating something," Aemond said, his tone calm but laced with challenge, his body language as unmoving as stone.

In one swift motion, Nymor stepped forward, his fists clenched at his sides, barely containing the storm of anger that radiated off him.

"You have no right to talk about her," he growled, jabbing a finger hard into Aemond's chest. His voice was low, dangerous—a warning that he was inches away from losing control.

Aemond stood his ground, his expression unreadable, though the glint in his eye gave away his satisfaction at having provoked Nymor.

It was a power play, and Aemond was revelling in it. The room crackled with unspoken tension, each man daring the other to make the next move.

"You think you can speak about my sister like that and get away with it?" Nymor spat, stepping closer until they were nearly nose to nose.

His breath came in shallow, angry bursts, and for a moment, I feared the restraint he had would snap.

Aemond tilted his head slightly, a lazy shrug rolling off his shoulders, his expression barely shifting.

"I speak the truth as I see it," he said coolly. "If you can't handle it, that's your weakness."

Nymor's fist clenched tighter, his knuckles white as his rage spilt over. "The truth?" he repeated, his voice rising with the heat of his anger.

"You don't know the first thing about her." His words dripped with venom, and I could feel the tide of the moment shifting into something dangerous.

Aemond's jaw tightened at that, the mask of indifference slipping for the briefest second. His voice was a quiet, lethal whisper as he leaned in, a dark smirk playing on his lips.

"Careful, Nymor. You're speaking to the rider of the largest dragon in the Seven Kingdoms." His words were soft, but the threat beneath them was unmistakable.

In an instant, Nymor's hand shot out, grabbing Aemond by the collar and yanking him forward so their faces were mere inches apart.

"Say one more word about her," Nymor hissed through clenched teeth, his grip on Aemond's collar unyielding, "and I'll—"

"Enough!" My voice rang out, sharp and commanding, cutting through the tension like a blade.

Both men froze, their eyes snapping toward me as I stepped forward, my expression a mix of frustration and steely authority.

"Nymor, let him go." My words held a weight that neither of them could ignore.

For a moment, Nymor hesitated, his grip still tight on Aemond's collar, his eyes burning with a fury that demanded release. But when he met my gaze, something shifted.

Slowly, reluctantly, he released Aemond, shoving him back with a frustrated grunt.

"You're not helping me by losing control like this," I said, my tone gentler now but still firm. "Leave us. I need to speak to him alone."

Nymor's eyes flicked between me and Aemond, a muscle in his jaw working as though he was about to protest.

"He doesn't deserve your time, let alone your words," he muttered darkly, but after a tense moment, he relented.

His hand twitched at his side as if itching to throw another punch, but he stepped away, turning toward the door with one last icy glare at Aemond.

"But if he says one more thing—" Nymor started, his voice taut with barely contained rage.

"I'll handle it," I cut in, my tone softening just enough to calm him. "You know I can."

Nymor lingered a moment longer, his fists still clenched, before giving a terse nod. He cast one final look at Aemond, filled with simmering fury, before storming out of the room.

The door slammed shut behind him, the sound echoing through the now-silent room.

For a long moment, silence hung between us, thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension.

Aemond's smirk returned, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eye as if he was weighing the moment carefully.

"You didn't need to send him away on my account," he said, his voice low and drawling, though the amusement in his tone didn't quite reach his eyes. "I can handle Nymor."

I stepped closer, my face impassive, carefully concealing the turmoil roiling within me. "This isn't about you 'handling' anyone," I said evenly, keeping my voice steady, controlled. "It's about knowing when to stop."

His smirk faltered. "Is that what you think? That I don't know when to stop?"

I met his gaze, holding it with unwavering strength. "You're pushing him because you want a reaction. But we both know this isn't about Nymor."

My voice softened, but there was still a sharp edge beneath the words. "So tell me, Aemond—what is it you really want?"

For the briefest moment, his expression shifted, and I saw the cracks in the carefully constructed façade he always wore.

The arrogance he wore like armour seemed to drain away, leaving something raw and vulnerable in its place. His jaw tightened, but the biting retort I expected never came. I

Instead, he hesitated, searching my face as though the answer might be written there.

"I want you," he finally whispered, his voice strained like the admission had cost him something.

The air between us felt impossibly heavy as the words settled like a stone in my chest. He took a step closer, and I could feel the weight of his confession pressing against my resolve.

I stayed silent, letting the moment stretch, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how his words affected me.

But when his hand lifted to cup my face, his touch was gentle, almost reverent, and it sent a shiver down my spine despite my best efforts to remain composed.

"You are unlike anyone I've ever met," he murmured, his voice intense, each word deliberate. "Fierce, determined... utterly captivating."

His gaze held mine, and for the first time, I saw something genuine in his eyes, something that unsettled me more than his usual cold confidence. "I cannot imagine my life with anyone but you. You've become part of me, consumed my thoughts, my every moment."

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to keep breathing, to keep standing. His words were heavy, laden with meaning, with the kind of vulnerability I had never expected from him.

For a moment, I almost faltered—almost let myself believe in the possibility he was offering. But I knew better than to surrender so easily.

Slowly, I reached up, my hand wrapping around his wrist, and I gently pulled his hand away from my face.

"Aemond," I began, my voice steady but tinged with something darker, something deeper. "How am I supposed to forget who you are? How do I ignore the history between our families, the blood that stains your name?"

His eyes widened, clearly taken aback by my words. This was a part of me I had never revealed to him, a truth I had buried deep but could no longer keep hidden.

I had been raised with the stories of what his family had done, the destruction they had brought upon my people, my home.

He stared at me, the shock plain on his face. It was as if he hadn't expected me to hold onto the past, to care about it in the face of his feelings. But how could I not?

"I don't want to conquer anything but your heart," he said softly, stepping closer again, his voice almost pleading now. "I don't care about power or politics when it comes to us. I just want you. That night we spent in the gardens..."

His voice trailed off, the memory lingering between us like a ghost. "It's all I've thought about since. I don't want it to be the last."

I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to steady the storm raging inside me.

His sincerity was undeniable, and I could feel the weight of his words pulling me in, making it harder to keep the distance I so desperately needed.

"Our fathers are already discussing the match," I said quietly, forcing myself to focus on the practicalities, on the things that kept me grounded in reality. "The alliances they hope to build through us—"

"Your father won't force it," Aemond interrupted, his voice urgent. "Not if you don't want it."

His tone softened, and for the first time, there was a vulnerability there, a rawness that caught me off guard. "But say yes. Say you'll choose me."

I turned away, unable to look at him. The weight of what he was asking felt like it might crush me.

"If I say yes, I have to give up everything," I whispered, my voice barely holding steady. "My home, my family, everything I know. I would have to leave my father, my brother, my people... for a life in a city that will never truly be mine."

He exhaled slowly, the realization sinking in. I felt him move closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "But you would have me. We could build something—something that's ours."

I turned back to face him, my gaze locking onto his.

"At what cost, Aemond?" My voice was quiet, but the question rang out like a challenge. "Do you really believe love can erase everything that stands between us? Can it undo the scars of history, the blood spilt by your ancestors?"

Aemond's eye searched mine, and for a moment, the world around us seemed to still.

It felt like the weight of every decision we would ever make hung in the balance, suspended in the thick air between us.

"I need time," I finally said, the words escaping before I could stop them. His expression shifted, the hope in his eyes dimming, but he didn't interrupt. "This is too much, Aemond. You may be certain of what you want, but I..."

I trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. I didn't have the luxury of being as sure as he was, and the stakes were far higher for me. "I need time," I repeated, my voice firm but quieter.

The silence that followed was thick, suffocating. Aemond's jaw clenched, his frustration evident, but he didn't push. He just stood there, watching me, waiting for something I wasn't ready to give.

"I can't stay here," I whispered, turning toward the door, feeling the pull of escape.

My heart pounded in my chest, torn between the desire to stay and the need to flee, to buy myself more time.

Aemond took a step forward, his hand reaching out as if to stop me. "You don't have to leave," he said, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "We can figure this out."

I forced a weak smile, meeting his gaze one last time. "I can't. Not right now."

He nodded slowly, the flicker of hope in his eyes dimming to a quiet resignation. "I'll wait," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll wait as long as it takes."

I hesitated at the door, my hand hovering over the handle.

Part of me wanted to turn back, to offer him something—anything—that might ease the tension between us. But the weight of history, of what he was asking, was too much to bear.

"I'll think about it," I said, my voice steady again. "But I can't make any promises."

With that, I slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind me. The second I was alone in the hallway, I released a shaky breath, the tension that had been building inside me finally breaking free.

My heart was racing, my thoughts a whirlwind of emotions I couldn't quite untangle.

I walked quickly, the echo of my footsteps the only sound in the silent corridor. The farther I got from Aemond, the more the reality of what had just happened sank in.

He had laid everything bare, but I couldn't forget what stood between us—our families, our histories, the sacrifices I would have to make.

When I reached the courtyard, I stopped, letting the cool night air wash over me, soothing the storm inside. I looked up at the stars, wondering how I had ended up here, torn between what I wanted and what I knew.

Could I really give up everything for him? Could I trust him, trust us, enough to believe that love could conquer the scars of the past? I didn't know.

All I knew was that I needed time. Time to think, to weigh the future that Aemond was offering against the life I had always known.

The air bit at my skin and my thoughts drifted to Alaric. The ease, the simplicity of being with him was tempting—a familiar escape from the whirlwind that Aemond stirred inside me.

With Alaric, everything had always been so... uncomplicated. No deep questions. No heavy expectations.

Just the physical release that dulled the ache, numbed the confusion. I knew if I went to him now, he wouldn't ask why. He wouldn't ask for anything at all.

For a fleeting moment, I considered it. The thought of his hands, the distraction, the way he could make me forget for just a little while.

It would be so easy to lose myself in him again, to drown out the impossible choice looming over me. But then, a sharp pang twisted in my chest, and I stopped in my tracks.

What would that solve? A night of pretending, of running, wouldn't change the fact that my heart was caught somewhere else—caught between the impossible pull of Aemond and the weight of everything I was supposed to be.

Alaric might help me forget for a night, but the reality of my choices would still be waiting for me in the morning.

I sighed the decision settling over me like a heavy cloak. I couldn't hide from this, no matter how much I wanted to.

With one last glance at the stars, I turned away from the direction of Alaric's chambers and instead headed back toward the shadows, alone with my thoughts, and the uncertainty that lingered like a storm on the horizon.

There was no running from this—not anymore.

A/n - Not as slow as I would like but we are nearing the end and I need their relationship to pick up a bit x

Enchanted tag list - @mamawiggers1980 @shilphy87 @esposadomd @targaryendestiel @deepeststarlightmoon

@thebirdandthebee @queen-of-elves @believeinthefireflies95

#house of the dragon #house targaryen #hotd #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #hotd one shot #hotd season 2 #house of the dragon fanfiction #hotd fanfic #team green #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd aemond #aemond one eye #prince aemond #aemond fanfiction #prince aemond targaryen #house of the dragon aemond

46 notes · View notes

anexthetxc · 5 hours ago

Text

Ari's posture kept relaxed as he let out his string of questions. Her knees bent and she rested her head on her knees while watching him, arms wrapping around her legs and looking casual as he listed off the jobs the gang operated. Most of them, he'd guessed right. "Father built an entire empire off of illegal work like running weapons and drugs in the country. It was only a matter of time before he made enemies and had to hire the guards. I don't think even he anticipated things to get as big as they did, but here we are almost thirty years later."

She'd done a good job of hiding it even though a lot of the other rich families had a clue as to what her family did. They'd just hidden it so well they'd never been caught before. "To me, things aren't deep. It's what I grew up with. Between my two brothers, Father intends on passing the whole thing down to me when the time comes. I have to be ready for that."

When he spoke again, her head lifted off of her knees, her casual speaking going almost quiet. Dark strands of her hair caught on her cheek and she couldn't push them away from letting herself worry over the same thing he was. "I really...hope he doesn't have an agenda. He knows what you mean to me. Contrary to everything he's done, he isn't unnecessarily cruel. Violent, but when my family is threatened, he'll go to intense lengths to finish it. I'm sure the entire Kim family will be dead by the end of the week after tonight. I won't let him drag you in to anything you don't want to be pulled in to." Ari went quiet, letting herself try to find the right answer to the emotional turn of his last question.

"Hyunwoo. I never wanted you to get involved in all this. But when Kim threatened you, I -- blacked out." That was a lie. Ari knew exactly what she was doing when she'd killed him. It also didn't help that she hadn't anticipated them to get as close as they did in the last few years and Ari let herself get selfish keeping him around as she did. "I...killed for you. Not many people can say that for each other," she finished, letting her silence answer the rest of his question even Ari couldn't find the words for.

hyunwoo took a deep breath as he stepped fully into the library, his eyes taking in the scene before him. ari, draped casually on the arm of the couch in her robe, looked worlds away from the bloodied figure he'd seen earlier. there was an almost unsettling calmness to the way she was sprawled out, like this was just another day in her life. meanwhile, his own thoughts were a storm of confusion, disbelief, and worry. he walked over and sank into the chair across from her, still trying to wrap his head around everything that had happened tonight. his gaze lingered on her for a moment before he spoke, his voice soft but edged with the weight of everything unsaid.

❛ a million questions ? yeah, that sounds about right. ❜ he began, a faint smile tugging at his lips, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. there was too much on his mind for him to be as relaxed as he usually was around her. he ran a hand through his hair, trying to piece together his thoughts. ❛ i have known your family was .. well, powerful. connected. but this ? a whole operation, rival gangs, guards, blood on your hands - literally ? ❜ he shook his head, still processing it all. ❛ i didn't expect this, not from you. you never let on that things were this deep. ❜ leaning back in the chair, he looked around the library as if searching for answers in the old books and paintings that lined the walls. none of it seemed real, yet here he was, thrown into the middle of a world he barely understood.

❛ so this is what you have been dealing with all along, huh ? while i was out living my life, going to parties, messing around .. this was your reality. ❜ there was a pause, a heaviness to his words. he wasn't angry, more bewildered and, in a way, impressed by how well she had hidden all of this. but there was something deeper, a worry that gnawed at him. ❛ and your father .. he just accepts me being dragged into this mess ? guards ? offering protection for me and my family ? ❜ his brows furrowed as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his expression more serious than she had probably ever seen it. ❛ what does he want from me, noona ? i mean, it can't be just because we have known each other for years, right ? ❜ his voice softened as he looked at her. ❛ i just need to know one thing .. why me ? why would you let me get so close, knowing all of this was happening behind the scenes ? was it to protect me, or is there something else ? ❜

#blackcardz #blackcardz (1)#replies (ari)#there's probably agenda and blackmail #or genuinely her father wants to help #only TIME WILL TELL muhahaha

81 notes · View notes

cheynovak · 2 days ago

Text

Between Power and Freedom

Part 5

Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N Shurley Female character

Summary: Y/N, the ambitious daughter of a powerful CEO, grapples with her father's choices, while she secretly takes a job with Dean Winchester, the rugged CEO of a rival company. Sparks fly between Y/N and Dean as they navigate their growing attraction amid corporate rivalry and family pressure.

Warnings: This story will contain parts that are 18+!

English is not my first language

*Please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated*

I knew I had to come up with something soon before my dad lost his shit. It was only a matter of time before he started demanding answers about my progress with Dean and Winchester industries.

During our last phone call, I had explained how unstable Dean's life was with Jo—how their fights seemed to escalate and how much tension hung over him whenever she was around. I also casually mentioned how Dean had taken me to dinner with the investors and Chuck seemed pleased with the arrangement.

“Good work on that,” my dad had said, his voice cold and calculating. “Get more into Dean’s life. Manipulate him. Let him fall in love with you.”

“Yeah, right, like that’s something I’m capable of,” I shot back, rolling my eyes even though he couldn’t see me. “I have a master’s degree; I’m not Cupid.”

“Doesn’t matter. Figure it out, break it down from the inside ” he insisted, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I sighed, feeling the weight of his expectations pressing down on me. But deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had to agree, if only to keep the peace. So I decided to focus on my work like I used to, putting my energy into my job rather than dwelling on the complexities of my feelings for Dean.

Weeks passed, and it became painfully clear that Dean was intentionally putting distance between us. Whenever Jo was around, he acted as if I were air, completely ignoring me while plastering on a smile for her.

I tried to joke or get his attention, hoping to draw out the true Dean I had come to know, but nothing worked. It was like I was shouting into a void, and the more he shut me out, the more frustrated I became.

At work, I kept my head down, throwing myself into projects and trying to prove my worth to Bobby and the rest of the team. I hoped that maybe, just maybe, if I became indispensable enough, Dean would realize he needed me in his life—not just for work, but for something more personal.

But as the days turned into weeks, my attempts felt futile. Whenever Dean and Jo entered the office together, the atmosphere shifted. Jo had a way of commanding attention, her loud laughter and brash comments cutting through the air like a knife. Dean would respond to her every whim, and I was left on the sidelines, watching as the connection I thought we had faded into nothing.

One afternoon, I found myself alone in the break room, pouring a cup of coffee, when Sam walked in. He looked at me with concern, and I knew he could sense the tension in the air.

“Hey, Y/N, everything okay?” he asked, leaning against the counter. “Yeah, just peachy,” I replied, forcing a smile. Sam raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “You sure? You’ve been quieter than usual. Is it about Dean?”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “It’s never mind." Sam frowned, looking thoughtful. “You know, Dean has a lot going on with Jo. He’s dealing with... his own issues. Sometimes he just needs space.”

Space? I thought, the frustration bubbling over. What kind of space? I’m not trying to invade his life; I just want to be friendly. But it feels like I’m competing with her every single day.

But all I said was "sure".

Sam his voice calm. “He’ll come around when he’s ready. He's a good boss, but his personal life just mingles with work I guess.” I nodded, appreciating his advice but still feeling the sting of rejection. “Thanks, Sam."

As I stood there, staring into my coffee cup, I couldn’t shake the feeling that my situation was only going to get messier. I had a job to do, but my heart was tangled in a web of emotions that seemed impossible to untangle.

That evening, as I sat at my desk, I noticed Jo laughing in the hallway. It was a familiar scene, but tonight it hit harder. I clenched my jaw, feeling a mix of anger and sadness. I didn’t want to be this pawn in my father’s game, nor did I want to be the other woman, vying for Dean’s attention while Jo played the part of the doting girlfriend.

With a deep breath, I decided to focus on my work and push the feelings aside. I had to remind myself that I was capable, that I was more than just a pawn in someone else’s game. But as I glanced at Dean, I couldn’t help but wonder how long I could keep this up without losing myself in the process.

Another dinner at Bobby's made it painfully clear why Dean had changed.

Jo announced to everyone, with a beaming smile, that she was pregnant. I almost choked on my food, a mix of shock and disbelief flooding through me. I forced a congratulatory smile, clapping along with everyone else, but my heart sank.

Dean, on the other hand, seemed anything but pleased. He sat quietly, his expression unreadable, and I could feel the tension radiating off him like heat waves.

The next night, I found myself working late. I had thrown myself into my projects, trying to escape the reality of Dean’s new situation, but my mind was a whirlwind of thoughts.

Bobby asked Sam the come back but part time, he wanted me by his side. To share the same title. Sam thought it was a great idea, this way Bobby could train me until his retirement and I would get promoted earlier.

When I decided to leave my office, I noticed a light still on in Dean's office.

I hesitated for a moment before knocking softly on the door. “Hi,” I said, stepping inside. Dean looked up from his paperwork, his brows furrowing as he saw me.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice lacking its usual warmth. He looked downcast, his tie a little lose, his hair messy. I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was spiraling. “What are you still doing here?” he asked.

“I could ask you the same thing. Did you have dinner yet?” I inquired, trying to keep my tone light. He sighed deeply, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “No, I tried to work through it, but I can’t seem to focus.”

“Is it Jo?” I ventured, surprised by my own boldness. Dean looked at me, surprise flickering across his face. “You noticed, huh?” I nodded slowly. “It’s just... I’ve seen... You don’t seem really thrilled about everything.”

He leaned back in his chair, the weight of his thoughts evident. “Just between you and me?” he asked, lowering his voice as if the walls themselves could hear.

“Of course,” I replied, stepping closer and closing the door behind me for privacy, even though we were probably the only two people in the building at this hour.

Dean took a moment, gathering his thoughts. “I don’t think I’m ready for kids,” he finally admitted, his voice strained. “I never pictured myself being a father, start a family, let alone with Jo. I just... I feel trapped.”

My heart ached at his words. I wanted to reach out and comfort him, to let him know he wasn’t alone in this turmoil. “Does she know?” I asked softly, afraid of his answer but needing to know.

He shook his head, frustration mingling with confusion. “No. I mean, how could I tell her? She’s so excited about it. I can’t just crush her like that.”

I took a deep breath, choosing my words carefully. “Dean, it’s not just about her. You have to think about what you want too. This is your life, and it’s a huge decision.”

He nodded, running a hand through his hair. “I know, I just… I don’t want to let anyone down."

I could see the conflict etched on his face, the struggle between duty and desire. I stepped closer to him, my heart pounding.

He locked eyes with me, and for a brief moment, it felt like we were the only two people in the world.

I felt a surge of hope as his gaze softened. “Still maybe you need to talk to Jo. She deserves to know how you feel, and you deserve to be honest with yourself.”

Dean sighed, his shoulders slumping. “You’re right. I just don’t know how to start that conversation. It’s going to break her heart.”

“I know it’s tough,” I said, my voice steady. He nodded slowly, the weight of my words settling over him. “Thanks, Y/N. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

I felt a warmth spread through me at his words, but I pushed it aside, reminding myself of the boundaries I needed to maintain. “You can always talk to me. I’m here for you,” I assured him.

We stood in silence for a moment, the air thick with unspoken words. I could feel the tension between us, a mix of comfort and longing, but I knew this wasn’t the right time to explore those feelings.

“How about I order some pizza, and I’ll help you with this?” I suggested, hoping to lighten the mood. Dean’s face brightened, and he nodded gratefully.

“Yeah, that would be great,” he said, pulling out his phone. I quickly ordered a couple of pizzas and settled back into the rhythm of work.

We tackled spreadsheets, analyzed figures, and brainstormed ideas for the upcoming projects. The hours flew by, and soon enough, we were both feeling the effects of long hours and stress.

After we wrapped up, I leaned back in the seat in the corner of his office, taking a deep breath to unwind. I kicked off my shoes, letting my bare feet rest on the table in front of me. Dean looked over with an amused smirk as he walked back with two glasses of bourbon in hand.

“Nice footrest you’ve got there,” he teased, handing me a glass. “Try to wear heels all damn day, you'd do the same,” I replied, laughing softly.

Dean took a seat on the table in front of me, his posture relaxed as he placed my feet gently on his lap. "You know, you don't need to wear heels in this company, right?"

Just as I wanted to answer he started to massage them, his fingers digging into the arches of my feet. Ah soft "hm" left my lips. “Is this okay?” he asked, looking up at me with an expression that was both playful and sincere.

“It’s more than okay,” I replied whispering, feeling the tension melt away with each movement of his hands. “I might need to keep you around for personal massage therapy session.”

He chuckled, clearly enjoying the moment. “I charge by the hour,” he quipped, and we both laughed, the sound filling the otherwise quiet office.

The atmosphere felt easy and cozy, and for a moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift. But just as we settled into our little bubble, the door swung open, and Bobby walked in.

“Am I interrupting something?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at the sight of Dean and me in such an intimate position.

“No, not at all!” I exclaimed, pulling my feet back into a more appropriate position.

Bobby chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, I hope I’m not stepping on any toes here. I’ve got the latest numbers on the project you two were working on.”

Dean straightened up and regaining his composure. “We were just wrapping things up, anyway. What do you have for us?”

Bobby pulled out a folder and laid it on the table, glancing between us with a knowing smile. “Just wanted to make sure you two had everything you needed before the meeting next week. I’ll leave you to it.”

I couldn’t help but feel a mix of warmth and embarrassment. Dean had dropped the playful facade, returning to his professional demeanor, but I could still sense the underlying tension from earlier.

“Thanks for that,” Dean said to me, leaning back against the table, his expression softening. “I really needed it. You know, you’re pretty amazing at keeping my head straight.”

I smiled, feeling a blush creep onto my cheeks. “Just doing what I can. Besides, you’d do the same for me, right?”

He nodded, a hint of seriousness creeping back into his eyes. “Yeah, I would.”

The air was charged with an unspoken understanding. I knew we were both still navigating our complicated feelings, but in this moment, sitting together in the glow of the office light with the smell of pizza in the air, it felt like we were on the verge of something new.

Taglist -> Click here to add

@jackles010378 @libby99hb @winchesterwild78 @suckitands33

@mostlymarvelgirl @deans-baby-momma @ancles @tulipsvanilla

@thesilmarillionblog @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @kr804573 @yvonneeeee

@kamisobsessed @hobby27 @globetrotter28

@kindollss @muhahaha303 @shadysoulangel @lyarr24

@spxideyver @impala67rollingthroughtown @panickedbitch

@deadlydivergentgirl @livya99 @deansimpalababy @stoneyggirl2

#fanfic #jensen ackles #x reader #jensen fucking ackles #fluff #dean winchester #spn #smut #supernatural dean #deanwinchester #dean #sam and dean #sam winchester

34 notes · View notes

cakerybakery · 1 day ago

Text

Got an interesting autocorrect and needed to write the story out.

In the kingdom of Eden they took their worship of their gods seriously.

They followed the divine family. Lucifer the Father God of ducks and sex. Lilith the Mother Goddess of life and death. And Charlotte/Charlie the Child God/Goddess of forgiveness and duality.

Ducks were the great symbol of the divine family and the kingdom of Eden for they were beings of all of three core elements of the world. They flew through the air, swam and ate from the water, and walked and had their families on the Earth.

King Adam and Queen Eve had tried for many years to produce heirs for their kingdom to no avail.

They knew if Adam had no heir of his own he would be forced to pass the kingdom on to his younger half sister, Emily when he passed.

Adam had no harsh feelings towards her. She was a delightful young woman but he feared her rule would be tarnished by her father, Alastor.

There were no kind feelings for his stepfather the fifth or so prince of a far off kingdom his mother had married after Adam ascended the throne.

He knew Alastor wished to rule Eden by proxy through Emily. Their mother, Sera passed when Emily a mere toddler, and through Adam was only twenty years her senior, she was raised more by him and Eve than by her real father.

Were it not for the possibility of Alastor becoming regent if something were to happen to Adam, they would happy make Emily heir to the throne.

So Adam made a desperate bid to the divine family for an heir to his throne.

He stood before the marble statues of their gods and lay a nest at the feet of their gods. From a basket he placed several eggs gathered from as different breeds of ducks as they could find.

The multicoloured eggs were beautiful. Their hues ranging from white to blue to green to brown and even black.

Adam let one of the royal ducks, the broodiest one in the flock, sit upon the eggs.

Then he could do nothing but pray.

The duck squawked and stood up confused. All of her eggs were gone.

Before Adam the statues turned to him.

The Godling Charlie smiled and stepped from her statue. “Hello Adam. You have come to wish for a child?”

Adam nodded. Although he believed, he never thought the gods would come to him personally.

Lilith stepped through the empty nest on her way down the marble stairs to join Charlie before him. Her ghostly foot didn’t disturb it at all. She frowned. “Death clings to you like a cloak. You must shed the taint of death before you might have a child.”

He looked to the statue of Lucifer. He was inspecting his new duck eggs.

Lucifer looked up only when his wife and child cleared their throats for his attention.

“Hmm? Oh yes. These are very nice. We will grant you your wish for an heir. After you complete three tasks.”

“Journey to the edge of the city where the wall meets the shore.” Charlie spoke. “It is there, where the land, the sea, and the air meet, where people and the wilds touch, that you will seek your father’s forgiveness for his death.”

“Then come to where my temple resides and barter with me.” Lilith the cryptic had no formal temple nor did she say what he would need to barter for or to. Adam would have to figure it out.

“And when you are done. I will find you.” Lucifer was even more unclear than his wife about the task he would need to complete for an heir.

But he did as instructed.

In the morning he set out. Eve kissed both his cheeks and forehead, as was the custom of Eden, and bid him good luck.

The first task was the easiest to complete. Adam rode from the high mountain castle through the winding city on parade. Waving to his people as they went.

Fanfare died down as Adam rode farther and farther to the outskirts of the city. They rode until the beach was under hoof and Adam dismounted.

Leaving his guards, Adam walked along the wall until he made it to the crumbling edge. Where the city met the wild, and the land, sea, and air mixed.

Adam wasn’t sure how to ask his father’s forgiveness. It was his arrow that slayed the man.

They had been hunting. It was much too foggy but they had been on the trail of a buck. A large one too if they read the hoof prints correctly.

In the fog they had become separated and, thinking he saw the buck, Adam shot his bow. The arrow flew true but it had been his father on his horse that Adam saw in the hazy.

In the last twelve years he has begged forgiveness many times.

With the gods’ help perhaps he would finally find it.

Adam fell to his hands and knees. He touched his head to the sand and water’s edge, to the bit of broken wall. “Father in the lands of Lilith’s shadow. I beg of you to forgive me for your death. Truly I did not know it was you.”

The wind whispered over the broken bits of brick stirring sand and sea. A voice from the shadows spoke. His father’s voice.

“I cannot forgive what you did not cause my son. In the shadows I have seen the truth.”

Adam snapped his up. He saw from his father’s eyes the truth in the shadows.

Alastor. A man of magic. His voice controlling the wind and water to turn the forest into fog. Taking the form of the Earth, a beautiful large red stag. The one they hunted that day. He tricked them apart. Calling each in each other’s voices until across a glen they stood, unaware the other was there.

As Adam’s arrow flew toward Alastor he changed back into a man and the arrow soared over his head, striking the king.

There was a commotion by his guards and he saw his men fighting black devils. Creatures from Lilith’s Shadow. Monsters that lived in death. They should not be in the land of Lilith’s body, in life. Devils had no power to cross over without being born just as the living could not move on to the shadows without dying.

Adam ran back to help. As a demon blade nearly came down upon Husk’s head, Adam stopped it with his divine sword. A gift from the Godling Charlie upon his birth.

A rarity to receive such a gift.

The devil was slain as his holy weapon pieced its shadowy body.

Demon by demon, Adam killed the beasts until at last his guards were all safe.

He raised his sword once more. “Come out, magic man.” Adam spat on the ground.

Alastor appeared from the shadows to taunt him but before Alastor could Adam lunged.

Parring with a cane of shadows Alastor knocked the blade from Adam’s hands.

He didn’t expect the metal clad fist though as Adam let the sword go to leave Alastor open to a more physical attack.

Screaming, Alastor covered his face. Blood poured down his broken nose and he tried to fight back with magic.

The guards pelted him with rocks and he couldn’t complete a spell. Giving Adam enough time to grab his sword, say a small prayer for the goddess Lilith to bless his blade, and cleanly cut Alastor’s head from his body.

His shocked face rolled to a stop at Lilith’s feet. “You have found my temple.”

Adam stumbled upon it but understood once Lilith had spoken. “Any point between life and death where you are worshiped becomes your temple.”

Her normally solemn face brightened and she looked more like her husband and child. “And I see you have something which to barter.”

Alastor’s eyes still blinked. His mouth moved but without his voice box he could not speak.

“A soul that had crossed the borders between my lands many times. Just what I have been looking for. In return,” she pulled from the air a small golden egg, “I give you this. Eat it and my husband shall find you.”

Adam took the egg and Lilith picked Alastor’s head up by the hair. “Let’s put you somewhere you can’t cause trouble again.” She vanished with the head and Adam ordered the body burned to ash and scattered to the winds so that even if Alastor’s head figures out how to escape death once more, he will have no body to control.

Once the job was done, Adam went home. He kissed his wife and went to the temple to prepare himself.

Lucifer was the god of ducks and sex. Adam was not sure what would happen or what his task would be.

Taking the tiny grape sized golden egg in hand, he prayed to Lucifer to work, and swallowed the egg whole.

It warmed him on the way down and he felt strange.

“What a lovely job you did.” Lucifer cheered from behind him and Adam jumped in surprise.

Lucifer’s hands touched Adam’s naked body and Lucifer smiled up at him in approval.

“You found the temple which the Godling of duality resides and prayed for forgiveness across from life into death and found truth past the lies. You bartered with the Goddess of life and death at her temple with the life and death of a murder she had been trying to capture for centuries.”

A hand went to Adam’s shoulder and he was guided down to a soft mat on the floor that had not been there before.

“You have brought me a pretty golden duck egg to fertilize with my seed.” Lucifer ran his hands over Adam’s hard chest and they became softer, tender, and swelled a little. They ran down his body and between his legs. Fingers caressing an entrance that had not been there before.

Moving between Adam’s legs Lucifer waited expectantly.

It took only a moment to realize what was needed. “I pray for an heir, oh great Lucifer.”

“Just Lucifer is fine. Especially from the soon to be mother of my child.” Lucifer winked and teased Adam softly with his fingers until Adam was moaned and wet.

It felt amazing when Lucifer’s dick filled him. He knew sex was great for him before, but fuck, this felt great too.

He held on to the god’s shoulders as Lucifer bottomed out inside of him. Adam cried out the god’s name in pleasure as he was fucked.

Lucifer kissed Adam’s swollen teats. His fingers sent electricity up Adam’s spine and his head got bubbly.

Adam spasmed around Lucifer’s cock and moaned.

He felt the small god release inside him and gave a giddy laugh. Adam was going to have his heir.

“Our son shall be born first and ascend your throne. Never again will the kingdom of Eden be threatened for a descendant of the gods will sit forever as ruler.” Lucifer pulled out of him and Adam inside thighs were coated in a mixture of their joining. “Go to your wife tonight and you will give the boy in your womb a half twin. He will be all mortal and beloved by our son. No harm will fall upon your mortal children.”

Lucifer got up but before he left he winked at Adam, “and if you shall desire another child with your wife, pray at my temple. Spread yourself wide and ask me to fill you with my seed. You and your wife will bear your young together.”

He vanished and as he tried to leave on shaky legs, the god’s cum still dripping down his thighs, the Goddess Lilith appeared.

“Emily has her father’s magic but your mother’s heart. Perhaps the kingdom could use their own court magician.” She vanished and Adam continued on to Eve.

Adam told her what happened and she was very pleased. “How wonderful. You will have an heir for the throne and we will have children! Rest dear husband. The God Lucifer must have tired you out. Rest and tonight we shall give our heir a sibling.”

Eve was very pleased indeed.

Over the months as their bellies both grew, as they shared similar aches, pains, and joys, he and Eve grew even closer. While they could not officially adopt Emily, the young girl barely even noticed her father’s death as he had barely been in her life.

Instead she focused on her studies. Not just with the magic tutors Adam had brought in for her, but the divine family took her under their wings as well.

She was quite skilled even by the time Adam’s waters broke and he birthed his first child, Cain.

Within hours of his birth Eve went into labour and had their son Abel.

They boys would be raised like twins, even if they and the kingdom knew who sired Cain.

Even and Adam would have many twins that way.

Lucifer wasn’t the god of ducks and sex for nothing.

#hazbin hotel adam #adamsapple #hazbin hotel lucifer #adam x lucifer #my adamsapple fanfiction

36 notes · View notes