#but these are real and serious and well founded concerns

[thesaltyace]

just personal ranting below the cut - fleeing Texas seems more and more necessary as time goes on

I've been increasingly alarmed over the past year or so about the blatant fascism on the rise not only in our state, but across the nation, and I'm most terrified that DeSantis will run for president and fucking win.

Spouse and I have talked about leaving before, but we're both very resistant to change. And for the most part we like the local area where we live (red though it is, we haven't had many issues) and spouse is very happy with their job and colleagues. And they're only about a year away from tenure review.

But yesterday, spouse looked at me and said that we might want to try looking for colleges/universities abroad that could maybe still meet their preference for teaching-focused institutions (minimal or no research requirements). It's not really common outside the U.S. so I kinda doubt we'll find an excellent fit, however...

The fact that spouse even suggested we should start looking tells me something has reached a tipping point. I was just thinking last week that I needed to broach the subject with them about where the line is, when do we say the potential for danger makes it necessary to leave?

Texas is trying to shove Florida-inspired anti-trans legislation through. With us being visibly queer and spouse wearing kilts, I know that line will arrive sooner for us that for others. I'm worried the line has already flown past us and we're just too close to the situation to clearly see it.

So, what happens if we flee to another state? Fascists have been infiltrating every level of government for decades and all I can see is a future slowly crumbling away, with the rest of us trying to claw it back unsuccessfully. Moving to a blue state is just kicking the can down the road for us. How long will that keep us safer than staying here?

Can we even move abroad? Maybe. Spouse's education and job is in demand in many countries, but they've also got some serious health issues that might disqualify them in some countries. I couldn't continue my job abroad, but I could probably find different remote work that doesn't super suck, I guess. I probably couldn't continue taking the ADHD meds that have really improved my quality of life, though, since stimulants are heavily restricted or illegal in many countries. Could we bring our pets with us? With docked tails (not our choice), their existence is illegal in some countries. This doesn't even include the discussion of how to fund a move abroad, which is just... prohibitively expensive to the point it's probably pointless to consider as a viable option.

It just sucks. I worry so much for spouse's safety, and it's only going to get worse as time goes on because fascists have a stranglehold on Texas. So when do we leave, if we even can? Do we try to hold out until spouse gets tenure, in hopes that it will help them get a job elsewhere? Will that be too late? Will they be targeted for violence in the meantime?

[windupaidoneus]

i need to sleep but im not happy about ittttt

[glamourscat]

May i please request headcanons, maybe a drabble of the batboys where reader is trying so hard to pretend that they don't know anything about their partner being a vigilante because they want to be told with trust and the boys are growing increasingly concerned about their s/o's obliviousness bcs like?? and the their s/o keeps saying things like "haha yeah!! red robin's super underground but that costume is pretty good timmy!" and "oh? i do have a thing for morally gray men, lovely red hood costume" whenever they accidentally see parts of the costume and can't pretend they didn't see it

idk i just think it would be funny af, ty in advance!!

i decided to go for drabbles. they are quite long so i only did jason and tim. should i do dick, maybe steph too, in the near future? let me know!

"You can't be serious," Jason thought. It's not that you're blind, and he’s not exactly being subtle. He knew from day one that being involved with a civilian meant the topic of his nightlife would eventually come to light. Before getting together you two had been friends for a long time, but he never quite managed to outright say, "Hey, by the way, I’m Red Hood." How do you even drop something like that into a conversation? 

Yet, as your relationship grew, more milestones came along and suddenly, you two were approaching your 2 year anniversary. Now, more than ever, as you found yourselves living together, Jason knew it was going to be harder to explain his secret. How many lies could he keep telling about going to help Roy or some emergency with Dick? How many nights could he still sneak out after you’d fallen asleep, only to return aching from a patrol?

So, he started leaving subtle hints. From his domino mask to his gloves… but hell, at this point, he might as well leave his whole costume out, because how in the hell are you not picking up on the clues?

“You know, Jay, that vigilante... What's his name? The one in red? Oh right, Red Hood. He’s pretty cool, right? I mean, he has a different approach than the others, i think some would say morally gray. I mean, hot.. Anyway, but—oh, wait, this is a lovely Red Hood costume! I didn’t know you were a fan too?!”

At that moment, Jason didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or do both at the same time. Maybe by accident—maybe not—he had left his entire costume out. And it wasn’t exactly cheap. The fabric was thick, heavy, it was definitely not something you’d find at a Spirit Halloween. Yet, you just folded it, didn’t ask any questions, and continued with your little chat.

“Doll, you got a moment?” he asked, trying to keep his tone as calm as possible because he was seconds away from laughing his lungs out.

“Yeah, Jay?” You looked at him, internally sweating. Did you give anything away? Did he suspect that you knew?

“You know, doll… that… the costume. I mean, it’s not fake, right? I…” He sighed, trying to find the right words.

“It’s real. Because I’m the Red Hood.” There. He’d said it. A relieved sigh left his lips as the words came out. Now comes the hardest part: your reaction. Would you laugh? Be shocked?

“Oh, yeah. I knew.”

What?

“What—? I beg your pardon?” Jason asked, his voice laced with disbelief, eyes scanning you to figure out if you were lying.

“I mean, you’re not exactly the most subtle, love, are you?” You said, amusement dancing in your eyes as you tried to hold back a smile. “Besides, I found out a while ago. I was just waiting, I suppose. It wasn’t my place to ask or say anything. I figured when you were ready, you’d say something.” You shrugged nonchalantly.

“Wait… when did you find out?” Jason raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Well, you see… It wasn’t that hard. At the beginning of our relationship when I’d tell you, ‘Hey, I’m going out with my friends tonight,’ and then coincidentally, when something happened—because it’s Gotham, let's be honest—there you were, Red Hood, swooping in to save the day. Always fleeting, never lingering too long. But what was really odd was that both Red Hood and my new boyfriend had the exact same walk style. Not to mention, Jay, mask or no mask, costume or no costume, I could still recognize you. Even in a crowded room.”

Jason just stood there, stunned. How had he missed all the signs? A part of him was relieved, he didn’t have to keep lying, but another part of him couldn’t believe he had been so obvious. You were too sharp for him to pull anything past you. And to think he was under the impression he had you fooled…

As he looked at you, he realized there was more to your patience than just waiting for him to confess. You’d known, but you’d never pushed him. It made him wonder how long you had really been aware. But now that it was out in the open, Jason found himself surprised by how easy the weight of the secret seemed to fall away. He’d been carrying it for so long, and yet, with you, there was no judgment, no shock. Just acceptance.

"You've always been patient with me," he murmured, his voice soft but grateful.

You gave him a warm, knowing smile, stepping closer. "Because I know you, Jason. And I know what you're doing matters. It’s a part of who you are, just like everything else."

Tim was stressed, but to be fair, Tim was always stressed. You two had been dating for a good while now and had been friends for much longer. However, somehow, he still hadn’t brought up the whole vigilante thing. Maybe it was because he was scared, or maybe it was due to his own selfishness. For once, he just wanted someone to see him as Tim and only Tim. But the truth was, he couldn’t exist without Red Robin. He knew that. And it had been too long. He knew he had to say something. But… does he?

Still, something didn’t sit right with him. It was the way you weren’t questioning him anymore on why he was always so tired, why sometimes he had to be gone for an entire week or why he trained so intensely. His physique, though not the most built, was still incredibly fit for a “simple rich kid.” And for the life of him, he couldn’t understand if you were just pretending not to notice or if you honestly hadn’t put it together. But when you suggested what costumes to wear for Halloween, he almost passed out on the spot.

“Yeah, I mean, we can do a couple’s costumes or… I don’t know, Tim. We can always go as… hmm? What about we go as vigilantes? I can be Wonder Woman and you can be Red Robin. It’s pretty underground. I’m sure the costume will look great; besides, you already have a good replica in your wardrobe. Fits like a glove, no?”

Like, this had to be a joke, right? Sometimes Tim wondered if his life was some kind of reality show, secretly followed by cameras just to capture his reaction to these weird, questionable moments.

He froze for a moment, staring at you, trying to piece everything together. Was this your way of telling him you knew? Was this a test?

“Uh... you... know?” he asked, his voice betraying a mix of confusion and disbelief.

You look at him confused. “Know what?” You shrugged, casually leaning back in your chair.

Tim blinked, his mind racing. He was smart, very so, but at this very moment he felt like the most ignorant being on planet Earth. He looks at you and you look at him and for a moment there is this unspoken, silent battle.

“You know, that I am Red Robin.” he says, quietly. Eyes searching yours for an answer.

“And what if I do?” you reply back equally quietly.

He had expected a lot of things. Shock, anger, even confusion, but not this calm, almost nonchalant acknowledgment. And yet, a wave of relief washed over him. You weren’t angry or disappointed. You weren’t even all that surprised.

“I’ve always known, Tim,” you continued, your tone softening. “You’ve been dropping clues left and right. The late nights, the cryptic phone calls, the strange bruises... And don’t even get me started on your ‘training’ routines. I never pushed because I knew you’d tell me when you were ready. And now, here we are. Although… I certainly did not imagine it to happen in such a way” you say, letting out a small soft laugh. 

Tim let out a shaky breath, his shoulders sagging in a way that felt like he’d been carrying a weight for far too long. "I didn’t want to burden you with it. I didn’t want to be Red Robin to you. I just wanted to be... just Tim."

You smiled softly, walking over to hug him. “And you are. You’re Red Robin, sure, but you’re not just that; are you? You’re Tim. My Tim. Two things can coexist at the same exact time, this is just what makes you.. You, ya know?” 

Tim stared at you for a moment, hands around your waist, his mind still processing. It was as if the entire weight of the secret identity he’d been carrying all this time suddenly evaporated. He had been so worried about how you would react, but now that it was out in the open, there was nothing left to hide.

"Thanks," he whispered, his head dropping to your neck. Hiding, but not really. It was more or so a way to feel you even closer. 

Your head gently resting against his, brushing a kiss against his hair. “Always, Tim. You’re still the same guy I fell for. I love you.”

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[strangersteddierthings]

Good People

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part

Wayne knows eavesdropping isn't the done thing. He's definitely old enough to know better, and he wasn't going to. He had a plan. He was going to walk directly into the living room, so they'd know he was awake, and after he'd fixed his cup of coffee, he'd plopped into his perfectly worn in recliner and subtly glare at the Harrington boy until he squirmed.

Mostly because it amused Wayne, but also just a little sliver of it was because he wanted the Harrington boy to know Wayne didn't think he was good enough for his boy. But only a little! Lord knows that Wayne couldn't do anything to make Eddie change his mind about Steve Harrington, short of Harrington proving Wayne right. Which he doesn't actually want because he doesn't want Eddie hurt.

He's just... He expects it to happen. That's what boys like Harrington do to boys like Eddie. He's seen it enough times to know that this song and dance leave no room for improvisation. Boys like Harrington play around, get their kicks with the devotion Eddie shows them, and then when they've had their fill, they leave.

Boys like Harrington will never be good enough for Eddie, but they always leave with Eddie feeling like he's not enough. Wayne hates it.

Anyway, his plan wasn't to eavesdrop. It's just that Harrington said his name and Wayne found himself standing still instead of continuing.

"Why doesn't Wayne like me?" Harrington asks.

"This again?" Eddie says dismissively, which has Wayne agreeing. His opinion shouldn't have bearing on their friendship.

A deep sigh from Harrington before, "I just. It's- he means so much to you. And, like, I- nevermind. It's stupid. I'm stupid."

"Hey," Eddie sounds a type of serious that Wayne rarely hears from him, "you're not stupid. And you gotta quit fucking saying that. You say it enough and you'll start to believe it and it's not true."

"Hard to quit feeling stupid when people dismiss my concerns like they are stupid," Harrington snaps back, bitchy as can be. The tone makes Wayne bristle on behalf of Eddie. His boy doesn't reply immediately, though. Doesn't bite back like Wayne's used to hearing. Huh. Maybe he's growing up, just a little.

"You're right, Steve," Eddie says when he finally speaks. "That was dismissive. I'm sorry. Explain it to me. Why does it matter to you whether Wayne likes you or not?"

"Well, because he's your family."

"Yeah," Eddie agrees, "he is. But that doesn't explain why it matters. I don't care if your parents like me or not."

"That's different!"

"How?" Eddie asks, soft but firm.

"Because their opinion doesn't matter. It's not- It's irrelevant. What they think."

"That makes no sense. Wayne's opinion matters because he's my family, but your parents' opinion doesn't even though they're your family?"

"Yes!"

"But why?" Eddie presses.

"Because they're bad people!" Steve bursts, not quite shouting but close. "Because when bad people don't think highly of you, it's not a fault in you. Their disproval is, like, a compliment. They don't like you because you're too different from them. And that's great! You shouldn't want their approval. It's different, because your uncle is a good person. And when a good person doesn't like you, it is your fault. It's something- it's..." Harrington loses steam here, voice dropping low and defeated, "there's something wrong with me. Something in me that- that he just knows. Senses about me or whatever. Something wrong or rotten or-"

"Steve! That's bullshit. Sure, Wayne's been standoffish, but he'll come around. You're not wrong, or rotten, or whatever else you think you are."

"How do you know that? I was an asshole most of life and what if that's just the real me? What if that's who I'll always be deep down. 'Cause I'm trying so damn hard, man. I'm giving it my all trying to be a better person and it's not enough! Everyone still talks about who I was in high school and even you-" Harrington snaps his mouth closed so hard that Wayne hears the clack of his teeth from his position in the hallway. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to- I'm sorry."

"Steve. This is about more than just my uncle's opinion of you, isn't it?"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

"I want you, too. I want to know if I've ever done anything to make you feel like you aren't enough."

Wayne really shouldn't be listening. He should back down the hall and into his room. Give them time to talk.

"No, Eddie, you don't make me feel like- that's not what I meant. I just. I'm...."

"Hey, Stevie, you can tell me."

"I'm just so afraid that... That one day everyone will wake up and realize what Wayne already knows. That I'm not good enough for them. For you."

Oh. Wayne really shouldn't be listening.

"I'll admit that Wayne's opinion is important to me, for a lot of things. But not about you. What I feel about you, how I feel about you, isn't dictated by Wayne."

"Sure. I mean, I know that, like, logically or whatever. But it's. I can't convince my brain that you won't just. Hate me one day. And I- fuck, Eddie, I'm already halfway in love with you and-"

"You're in love with me?" Eddie interrupts, sounding awed, starstruck, and Wayne cannot be listening anymore. He backs down the hall silently and back into his room.

Steve Harrington seems to think that he's a good person, but he's not feeling like a good person at the moment.

He's got some thinking to do.

[moviestarmartini]

yellow flowers. — jude bellingham x gf!reader

él sabía, ella sabía y se olvidaron de sus flores amarillas.

summary: how can your relationship recover from such a serious argument the night before?

wc: 975

warnings: angst, not that much dialogue, like three words in spanish, established long-term relationship.

A/N: WHAAAAT?? GIGI POSTING TWICE IN A DAY??? its more likely than you think! thank las flores amarillas hehe.

now playing... flores amarillas from floricienta

The fight was stupid, really. 

You both had to admit it was. Even then, that doesn’t take away the fact it snowballed into issues each of you held back for what seemed ages, and only ended up with Jude slamming the door on the way out of your apartment. 

After hours of crying, your own exhaustion from the ordeal lulled you to sleep. When you rose up in the morning, neither your mind nor your body prepared for the fact it was a Saturday. 

Nor the fact everyone and their mothers were receiving yellow flowers, something you’d always craved but were always just another bystander. 

If you listened to that song again you might just rip your hair off. 

You had a whole day planned with Jude after the game, he wanted to do something special, but the fact you couldn’t hold back your jealousy the night before was more than enough to dampen the idea, whatever it was. 

For a second, you tried to put things on the positive side. A self-care day. In theory it was wonderful, but the second you sat alone in the bubbly bathtub, you broke down in tears. 

You’d been together for years. You changed your whole life around him, learning German to go to school in the same country and planning your masters in Spanish. Maybe that was part of the reason he called you spineless; you adapted to other’s needs and perspectives easier. His words bounced around your head, each reminder taunting you more. 

To top it all off, Spotify seemed to have a vendetta against you, your daylist was insanely depressing. 

“Is this because he plays for Real Madrid?!” You spoke out into the world, growing frustrated with your situation. 

That did spark an idea in your brain; or more of a reminder. 

Jude had a game today. And you weren’t going to be there to watch him. That just made you jump out of the bath, get changed into decent clothes and leave the house for once to watch him at your best friend’s house upon her request, miserably so even when the team got their footing back up— knowing you should be in the stands cheering him on. But alas, you weren’t.

And you wondered if you would ever be again. 

The moment he fell clutching his shoulder, your heart stopped. Tears welled in your eyes but you avoided letting them escape, remembering the long hours of work and recovery, the utter joy you felt when he informed both you and the team he was comfortable playing without the big chunky brace again. All that, and it crumbled down right before your eyes, like your relationship. 

Still, you didn’t hesitate on reaching for your phone, not finding any elation on the team’s victory. 

[ I know you don’t want to see or hear from me ] 

[ But how’s your shoulder? I’m seriously concerned ] 

You knew he wasn’t going to reply right away, and when your companion found out who you’d texted, she ripped the phone out of your hands and put it away for the reminder of your evening laced with white wine and take out sushi. 

“Thank you for releasing me, master.” You joked by the time she gave you the mobile back, swallowing hard upon seeing Jude hadn’t replied. 

He hadn’t even read it. 

Now you were actually panicking, swallowing down the tears in the Uber and wishing the small elevator could go fast enough that you didn’t break down somewhere that wasn’t in the comfort of your home. 

You were overwhelmed enough that you didn’t even take into account your door was unlocked when you clearly left it locked, nor the warm light coming from the tiny space under the doorframe. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Were the first words you registered before your eyes caught the indoor prairie your boyfriend had installed in your living room in the shape of yellow daisies. 

Your eyes trailed the hundreds of petals before your eyes finally fell on him, scanning from his toes up to the apologetic expression he was carrying. Now it all made sense; your friend insisted on getting you out of the house for this. He didn’t reply because of this. 

Though your heart was running at a whopping speed of thirty miles per second, your feet took you painfully slow— cautiously— towards him. You were still marveled, carefully watching where your sneakers landed to avoid stepping on the beautiful work he’d planned for you. 

“Perdón,” Jude repeated, as if the words in Spanish meant so much more than the English language. He opened his mouth for what seemed to be a rant, but the way you squeezed the life out of him with a desperate hug left him speechless, followed by your hugs. 

“I thought you— you were going to dump me and I would have to move back home and— and I can’t imagine that because I love you so much and that’s why I was scared!” You babbled between hiccups, trying to calm yourself down before his gentle hands cupping your face did the job spectacularly. 

“I would be such a fuckin’ idiot to do that.” He couldn’t help but let out a laugh, not at you nor your claims, but at how ridiculous he had been. 

“Te perdono,” You sniffled, your bottom lip still puckered up ever so slightly. 

“But what’s all this?” You turned to look at the scene, something straight out of a Van Gogh painting. 

“You thought I forgot with the thousand TikToks you sent me on this day?” He leaned in to kiss your forehead before pulling you into another warm hug. 

“I also watch Gilmore Girls whenever you do. Whoops.” 

Your laugh echoed as you snuggled closer to him in your upright position, being extremely thankful the last sentence of the song wasn’t your reality.

A/N: if y'all seriously thought it wasn't going to have a happy ending you clearly don't know me well enough rip

[ebodebo]

more bull rider!simon.... MDNI

some context

"What the hell are ya doin' here?" You hiss under your breath as the wooden bleacher next to you sinks to accommodate Simon's weight. You briefly glance at him before refocusing on the rider in the arena.

The rider in question was a guy you had met while in Wisconsin some months ago. You had found him a little aloof but charming. He had that boy-next-door look—cute face, crooked smile, soft-spoken. 

He was the kind of boy you bring home to your parents—the boy your mother gushes over to her church friends, and your father pats on the back and whispers to your mom, 'Real nice kid.'

It wasn't anything serious between you and the rider. You were strictly friends.

You couldn't see yourself with a cookie-cutter like him.

But Simon didn't know that.

"Just came to watch the show," he casually says; you don't miss the smug tone his words carry. You roll your eyes, hands gripping the edge of the wooden bleachers tighter, even letting out a dry, unamused laugh.

His mere presence annoyed you. 

But his presence in an arena alongside others rattled you to hell.

All eyes were on him. 

They were always on him. 

God knows you despised the man, which was a shame because he was such a good lay. And you hated to admit it, but he was a powerhouse of a bull rider—one of the best in the country.

His skill and charm were undeniable, but his arrogance overshadowed those qualities for you.

These unredeemable qualities you despiesed did nothing to deter everybody and their mothers from moving mountains just to get a glimpse of him.

"Bullshit, Simon," you shake your head, eyes focusing back on the rider. He let out a laugh, scooting himself forward so his back lay against the back of the bleachers. 

"You think I'd lie to ya, Babydoll?" He quipped a self-satisfied smirk on his lips that fiddled with a toothpick between them. You whip your head to face him, eyes widened in amusement. 

"I do, actually," you say, tipping your head towards him. "I know you're here because you heard about him," you casually say, turning back to face the arena. 

"Is that right?" He lazily says, taking the toothpick settled between his lips and twirling it with his finger. 

"Yes," you breathe out, slight annoyance in your tone. "I'm just wonderin' why ya care so much?" He throws his hands up in surrender, making you turn to face him again. 

"Woah, woah. Hold on now," he begins. "Since ya got me all figured out," he pauses, pointing his finger at you. "You tell me." You let out an irritated sigh, hands coming up to rub your eyes and temples.

"You smug bastard," you huff.

"Come on, Babydoll. Do ya really take me for the jealous type?" He probes, pushing the toothpick back into his mouth. 

"Well, ya are a big baby when ya don't get your way," you jest.

"Am not," he quickly supplies with a smile. 

"You sure are, Beef-head," you insist, the corner of your lips pulling into a slight smirk. 

"That reminds me," he leans closer so only you can hear him. "I still haven't forgiven ya for leavin' me high and dry the other day."

"You had that comin,'" you shrug, humor dancing across your face.

"I didn't leave ya on purpose, hon. You planned that attack," he exasperates dramatically.

"Attack? Oh my God. You're so dramatic," you groused.

"Was up all night icin,'" he griped, face contorting at the remembrance of the pain. 

"I doubt that," you roll your eyes, still laughing. "I'm sure you had one of your, what do ya call them? Buckle-bunnies? Tend to ya."

"I don't call them that," he firmly says.

"Sure you don't, Beef-head," you absently agree, eyes locking back to the arena where the rider you were watching stands off to the side.

Your eyes widen, while your mouth hangs open.

"What is it?" Simon's voice is laced with concern. You stand abruptly, gathering your things next to you. 

"You made me miss it," you mutter. 

Simon smiles. "Can't help you didn't wanna look away from me."

"Shut up," you scoffed, though a slight smirk pulled from your lips as you walked away from him, shimming between the people in the bleachers.

Simon couldn't help the smirk that simultaneously pulled at his lips, though it quickly dissipated as he saw you lean over the fence to talk to the bull rider you were so hell-bent on watching. 

The guy's fingers reaching over to straighten your slightly lopsided hat about made Simon reach out to break the very fingers he used.

It didn't matter that there were now about five women surrounding him, showering him with compliments. All he felt was a pang of heat in his chest, like a knife turning in a fresh wound.

He'd be damned if he let this cheesehead take his girl. 

"Hey, Simon. Is that—" One of the cowboys with Simon questioned, as he dipped his head towards you, barreling towards the pen he was in, anger written all over your face, crushed magazine in hand. 

"Sure is," Simon smirked, tongue poking into his cheek with amusement. He dismounted from the horse, taking his hat off as he approached you. "Hey, Babydoll. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"What the hell is this?" You grit, shoving the magazine in his face. 

"Looks like a tabloid," he simply says.

You pull the magazine back, reading the front cover. "Acclaimed bull rider Simon Riley trades rodeo for romance as he's seen cozied up with a local country girl as PBR tour starts to wrap up in Texas," you snap. 

"Why on God's green Earth is this sayin' we're datin','" you say through gritted teeth. 

"Simple. I told them we were," he shrugs.

"You did what?" You bark, face burning in anger. 

"Eh, my publicist wanted me to chat with some news station, and they asked about ya," he plainly says. 

"What exactly did you say?" You urge impatiently. 

"That we were involved," his voice was full of unambiguity.

"You—you're a damn, a damn—" You drift off, voice searching, unable to even conjure any words. 

"Come on, Babydoll. Don't get so bent out of shape. Technically, we have been involved," he gruffs, eyebrows raising cheekily.

Oh, so he thinks this is all some big joke.

You grip the collar of his simple white shirt, pulling him down to eye level. "Ya better get on your knees and pray that this hasn't reached the townsfolk yet," you snarl. "Or, with God as my witness, I will snip your balls off just like one of those damn steers."

You let go of him roughly, shoving him back slightly, turning on your heels to leave, yelling back, 'Get your fancy PR team to deal with this, Dumbass.'

This is followed by many snickers from the other cowboys still in the pen, who have witnessed the show that was you snapping Simon into place. 

"Well, hell, Simon, you didn't tell us you got yourself a little firecracker," one of the other cowboys roars, hitting Simon in the chest playfully when he returns to them.

"She ain't no firecracker. She's a damn stick of dynamite," Simon remarks, a wolfish grin spreading across his face. 

It had been two weeks or so since you had last seen Simon. And, along with him, that tabloid bullshit had since gone dormant. You had to hand it to him, he made the whole story disappear into thin air. 

Well, with the help of his many connections. 

The air felt crisp and refreshing, not having that asshat around to taint it. You could get used to this. Hell, who knows, maybe you would never have to see the smug bastard again.

"Hey, Babydoll," Simon quips. "Long time, no see."

You spin on your heels, turning to him, a mixture of surprise and annoyance evident in your expression. 

"Why are you back in town?" You exasperate.

"Finals," he states, his eyes glinting with determination. 

"You actually qualified?" You snarkily remark, eyes finally taking note of his chaps, padding, and mouthguard hanging out of his mouth by his teeth.

"Babydoll, I'm not just good; I'm one of the best damn riders in the country," he proclaims with a confident smirk. 

You roll your eyes. "And a humble one at that," you say, eyes wondering behind him to see one of your friends in the audience waiting for you.

“Break a leg, Beef-head," you quickly spew, patting him on the chest before you walk away. 

"See, I have a gut feelin' you really do want me to break a leg," he yells back to you. 

"Always trust your gut," you exclaim, not sparing him a glance as you approach your seat. 

He smiles before making his way to the arena, but not before glancing at you one last time on the bleachers before securing his helmet on and going straight into the fray.

You shouldn't even be surprised. 

Not even a little bit.

Simon's victory was not just a win but a triumph that catapulted him to the pinnacle of bull riding. Now, he was one of the most sought-after bull riders on the planet, a title that came with a deluge of attention. 

You begrudgingly expected that. 

But you didn't foresee the enthusiasm of the women attached, each making a bold attempt to catch Simon's eye. Dressed to the nines, they were all vying for even a moment of his attention.

You thought you should at least congratulate him a little, so you walked over to the gate where he would leave, but hell, it seemed you weren't the only one. 

These women were not just there; they were making an effort. They batted their lashes, puckered their lips, and pulled their tops slightly lower, hoping to catch his eye.

To his credit, he was too consumed with the numerous news outlets and interviewers shoveling microphones and cameras in his face and asking him how it felt to receive this distinguished honor to notice them. 

Well, until his publicist pulled him away from the throng of people, guiding him quickly out of the arena. All of the women immediately surrounded him, showering him with compliments, fingers delicately running across his biceps. 

"You did so good, Si," one woman mewls.

"How you gonna celebrate your win, Bigboy?" Another woman coos, lashes fluttering. 

"I'm sure he has big plans," the first woman answers, eyebrows raising.

It was pathetic, but you couldn't pull your attention away. 

As the women surrounded him, their flirtatious gestures and polished nails caressing him, you felt a sinking sensation in your stomach. You couldn't understand why, but the longer they lingered, the more you struggled to tear your gaze away.

His cheeky smirk only made it worse. It was clear he was reveling in the attention. It felt like a betrayal, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of jealousy and anger. 

You were thinking of simply walking away, your head already clearing at the thought of not seeing him for a while, until one of the women leaned in to press a lipstick-covered kiss to his lips. 

Before you knew it, your feet were moving, and you were pushing through the women to get to him. You grabbed his hand, your grip tight with desperation, and pulled him away.

His eyes lit up when he saw you, and his hand returned the contact and wrapped it around yours tightly. 

"Where we goin', Babydoll?" He coaxed, with a flirty undertone. 

You don't respond; you move faster toward the line of portable restrooms behind the bleachers. Many Patreons attempt to talk to Simon on the way, but you don't stop, and he doesn't either.

Once you reach one of the vacant portable restrooms, you quickly twist the latch, open the door, and pull Simon inside swiftly. You reach behind him and twist the lock to show that the stall is occupied.

Your hands were racing, fingers reaching to undo each button on his long sleeve.

"Thought you were pissed at me?" He murmurs. And, fuck does it tick you off because you can just hear the smugness in his tone. You look up at him; his pupils have dilated. 

"I am," you grit, hands moving to unclasp his buckle.

"Not too pissed to sneak me off to have sex. Huh?" He tuts, his hands moving to unclasp your belt, slipping your denim jeans down.

"Stop talkin,'" you snarled. He smirks, dipping his head to meet your lips. You turn away slightly, hands haphazardly moving to grab a piece of toilet paper and swiping it across his lips to get rid of the lipstick smudged.

He lets out a dry laugh, gripping the waistband of the underwear, snapping the band of your underwear back onto your sensitive skin. In response, you let out a breathy whine, hands gripping his shoulders tightly.

"Oh. I see," he begins, quickly slipping his hat off to hang on the hook by the toilet, bringing his lips to run across the skin of your neck lightly. "You markin' your territory, Babydoll?" He whispers; his hot breath fanning your skin sends shivers down your spine.

One of your hands moves to thread through the back of his light hair, gently tugging on the roots, while the other moves to rest on the back of his neck. "And, if I am?" You whisper.

He pulls you closer to him, his clothed cock pressing against you.

"It's about damn time," he sneered, as his teeth lightly nipped the skin on your neck. You issue a breathy moan directly in his ear that sets him off.

In one swift motion, he pulls down his jeans and boxers frantically, desperate to feel you around him. He's sliding down your underwear so it pools around your ankles, gripping you by the back of your thighs, picking you up before easing himself into your dripping cunt. You're quick to cross your ankles behind his back. 

You both moan at the contact as your lips find his greedy ones. Your teeth are clashing, chest heaving as he drills into you, all while his tongue tangles with your own, teeth occasionally tugging on your own.

His fingers are digging deeply into the meat of your thighs—you're sure to have bruises tomorrow, but you don't care, not even a little bit, because you couldn't even stop even if you wanted to; it felt too good.

"Fuck, Baby. I've been—ah—thinkin' about this for weeks," Simon groaned into your lips, as his pace picked up. "Needed you so bad."

You let out a moan that he catches in another groan. His lips move to press deep kisses onto your neck, even licking a stripe with his tongue, all the while movements only increase in speed.

"I'm—I'm so close," you whine, already feeling your impending orgasm approaching. 

"I know, Baby. I know," he grits through his teeth as he feels his orgasm near. 

He plows into you one last time before you both come simultaneously, him groaning into your skin, as you moan into his hair. You take a second to recuperate, legs slightly shaky as he sets you back on the ground.

"You know everyone saw you drag me in here, right?" He leers, pulling his boxers and jeans back up and clasping his belt.

Your eyes widen. You hadn't even thought about what you were doing, you had just reacted. "Shit," you exasperate. "The tabloids are goin' to have a field day with this. I don't—"

He tips his head towards you, bending down to ease your underwear and jeans back on. "Don't worry. I'll take care of it," he plainly says.

You release a received sigh. "Thanks. I appreciate that, Beef-head."

"Welcome, Babydoll," he smiles as he buttons his shirt.

A brief pause occurred in the conversation as you both finished dressing. As Simon placed his hat back on, his eyes locked back to yours, a smirk growing on his lips.

"Now will ya let me take ya out to dinner?" He asked with a playful tone. 

You titled your head to the side, letting out a dry laugh. "You askin' me on a date?"

He shrugs. "Suppose I am," he begins. "What do ya say?"

You press your finger to your chin, an inquisitive expression on your face. "I say no."

His expression twists in confusion, maybe almost hurt. "No?"

You laugh, hand coming to rest over your heart in amusement. "I'm just busting your balls, Beef-head. I'll go on the date with ya," you cackle.

He lets out a deep sigh of relief, muttering, "Hell, you're gonna be the death of me."

Maybe this entanglement you found yourself in with Simon wouldn't be so bad after all.

a/n: thank u for the submission and ur kind words! i hope u like what i cooked up:)) side note, my bestie queen, @artemis-b-writes , helped me in making this! this also became longer than i originally intended, but oh well! also, divider!

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[rafemotherfuckingcameron]

POSITIVE

Word Count: 0.7K

Pairing(s): Reader x Rafe 

Warnings: Pregnancy talk

Summary: You find out your pregnant 

The evening was perfect for a surprise, and tonight, you had the best one planned. After months of trying, it had finally happened. You were pregnant. The news was both exciting and nerve-wracking, but you couldn’t wait to share it with Rafe, to see his reaction.

You had kept it a secret from him, not out of doubt, but because you wanted to surprise him in the most special way. As you carefully wrapped the pregnancy test in a small gift box, your heart raced in anticipation. This was the moment. This was everything you had been waiting for.

-

You found him outside, sitting on the porch of his family’s house, his usual relaxed posture, one leg propped up on the railing as he watched the sunset. When he saw you approach, his smile widened.

"Hey, you," he called, his voice deep and full of affection. "What’s this?"

You handed him the small, wrapped box, your hands shaking just a little, despite your excitement. "Open it."

Rafe raised an eyebrow, curious but clearly thrilled. He pulled the ribbon, and the paper fell away. When he opened the box and saw the pregnancy test inside, his eyes widened in surprise, and he froze for a moment, the joy on his face so clear that it nearly took your breath away.

"Wait," he started, his voice hushed as he looked at you. "Are you serious? Is this... real?"

You nodded, feeling the weight of the moment hit both of you at once. "It’s real. I’m pregnant."

The moment you said those words, Rafe stood up quickly, his arms immediately pulling you into an embrace so tight you could feel the excitement and happiness radiating from him. "Oh my god," he whispered, his voice full of emotion. "I can’t believe this. I’m gonna be a dad."

You could feel his heart racing as he held you close. He pulled away just enough to look into your eyes, his grin wide. "I love you," he said softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "I love you so much. We’re gonna be a family."

Tears welled up in your eyes, but they weren’t from fear. They were from the overwhelming joy of knowing that this was exactly what you both wanted. You weren’t alone in this—you had each other.

Rafe’s excitement only grew as he started rambling about everything he couldn’t wait to do. "I can’t wait to build a nursery," he said, his voice bubbling with excitement. "We’ll make it perfect for our little one. And when it’s a boy, I’ll teach him everything about bikes. If it’s a girl, I’ll spoil her rotten."

You laughed softly at his enthusiasm, but his eyes never left yours. "We’re gonna be amazing parents," he continued. "I’ll be there for every moment. You need special cravings at 3 AM? I’m on it. Foot rubs, back rubs, whatever you need. I promise, I won’t get frustrated when you want something ridiculous in the middle of the night."

His words were so genuine, so full of love that you couldn’t help but smile. You could see the future unfolding in his eyes. And it was beautiful.

"I can't wait to tell my sisters," he said suddenly, his excitement growing even more. "They’re going to be so excited. Wheezie and Sarah—" He paused, a thought crossing his mind. "Are you feeling okay, though? You’re not feeling sick, are you?" His tone softened, his protective instincts kicking in.

You nodded, reassured by his concern. "I’m okay," you replied, smiling up at him. "Just a little nervous, but mostly excited."

Rafe’s hand cupped your face, his thumb stroking over your skin as he leaned in, kissing you gently. When he pulled away, his eyes were soft, filled with adoration. "I’m so happy," he whispered, holding you close again. "We’re going to make this work. You and me. Together."

You held onto him, your heart racing as you sank into the warmth of his embrace. There was no doubt in your mind anymore that this was the right path. Rafe was going to be an incredible father, and you were both going to navigate this journey side by side.

Rafe’s arms tightened around you, and you could feel the smile on his face as he whispered again, "I’m so glad we’re doing this together. I can’t wait to experience every single moment with you."

And as the night stretched on, you knew that everything would be okay. With Rafe by your side, you had everything you needed to face this new chapter in your life.

[msfantasy-comics]

Teen Three and Intruder Billy Batson

Platonic!Damian Wayne x WonderGirl!Reader x Platonic!Jon Kent x Platonic!Billy Batson

Summary: Damian and Jon can’t help but notice their best friend is distracted with the new commer. Shenanigans ensues.

Warning: No Romance here.

“And they posted ANOTHER Tik Tok! Can you believe that?!” Damian rants as Jon pours himself another bowl of cereal.

“Uh-huh.” He reply’s, hoping Damian will realise how ridiculous he sounds.

“I can’t believe this. It’s like we aren’t even friends anymore. Like she’s forgotten us and we are the background characters!” Damian continues making Jon roll his eyes in silence. “Did you just roll your eyes at me Kent?! This is serious! Look at her account, they already have 11 videos together, isn’t that just weird?!”

Jon mutters an agreeable hum now rinsing his bowl in the sink. “That’s cool Dames, thanks for calling me just to talk about Y/n and Billy for…” Jon taps his phone screen and sees the video call timer showing 56 minutes. “An hour…”

“Don’t call me Dames! And it’s been 56 minutes Kent. Perhaps summer school is in your future.” Jon groans at Damians semantics. “I’ll come pick you up, I’ll be there in 20 minutes.”

“Wait what?” Jon sputters as he rechecks the video call to see Damian sitting in a bat ship. “Dude, no, I have to help my mom with the farm.”

“TT, you should’ve told me that before I got in the batship! It’s too late, I’m coming over, picking you up and we are going to Y/n’s house to film Tik Toks to show that intruder who her real friends are.”

Opening the front door you see non-other the Damian standing with a glare and Jon standing sheepishly on your families front porch. “Dames, Jon? I wasn’t expecting to see you guys.” You announce surprised, waving them through to the lounge room where the intruder is found lounging, as if this was normal, as if he was here regularly.

“Batson.” Damian greets coldly, his nose turned up.

“Bat’s son.” Billy greets with a grinning smirk at Damian’s expression. “Jon! Good to see you man! It’s been so long!” Billy greets enthusiastically pulling Jon into a quick hug.

“Like wise.” He reply’s before pulling back and taking a seat next to Damian, avoiding his unspoken accusatory stare.

“Enough fratinising with the intruder!” Damian yells, making you scowl.

“The what? Damian-“

“No times for lectures!” Damian interrupts, “Whoever uploads the most Tik Toks with Y/n by end of the month, is crowned her true best friend!”

“Wha-“

“You’re on!” Billy agrees, fully bemused by Damian’s antics.

“This is stupid Dames.” Jon grumbles.

“What the hell Damian! You can’t just-“

“The winner will have an all expenses covered holiday of Y/n’s choosing paid by Wayne Enterprises.” Damian quickly adds making you shut your mouth instantly.

“… well best of luck guys.” You yield.

Diana really thought the end of September couldn’t come sooner.

Diana thought this whole scenario was harmless shenanigans. But considering it involved the Teen-Three, she really should’ve known better.

Diana was getting non-stop phone calls from the school and other parents with concerns and complaints at the inappropriate conduct, especially with Damian speeding dangerously through the parking lot in a super car to pick up her daughter to film Tik Toks and with Billy just randomly showing up in her daughters classes to film Tik Toks was really getting out of hand.

Diana resisted the urge to kill the kid’s fun at the request of her husband.

“Let the kids have their fun! When I was Y/n’s age, I was day drinking, smoking like a chimney and sleeping with…” Diana stares down her husband, daring him to finish his sentence. “… moral of the story, let the kids be.”

The winner turned out to be Jon, who came over last night and spent 1 minute recording a video, and proceeded to continuously reupload that video until mid-night.

Diana and her husband watched arguments and debates ensue whilst sipping their newly imported wine.

“These kids and their shenanigans, I swear.”

[suppose-i-was-worm]

For Lack of a Burger

**finally I have written! Sorry for the long absence, folks- my cat is a needy little thing and I love her. Enjoy!**

“As blood son of Batman, it is only natural that I train here to become heir to the Bat.”

Dick- well, Nightwing right now- looked down at Robin, who was staring out over Gotham with his brow furrowed.

“And what of the league? I can’t imagine them letting the heir to the Demon’s Head run loose.”

Robin stiffened a fraction more than he already was- something that Nightwing wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t trained by Batman himself.

“I know only one thing for sure concerning the heirship of the league.”

“What is that?”

“Grandfather will not taste relief in death.”

Nightwing wasn’t sure what that meant, but Damian seemed so assured of the fact. He would have to tell Bruce- maybe Ra’s had discovered a better method of immortality than the pits?

An alert pinged on their communicators, and the two of them checked it before heading off to save the citizens.

~~~

“I miss real food, Clocky.”

“You are currently unable to process it.”

“I know. Ectoplasm just isn’t the same though.”

Danny sprawled on Clockwork’s floor, lazily filling out paperwork from ages ago and yesterday.

“It has been a very long time since you left humanity behind.”

“I wish there was a safe way to go back and get some food.”

His mentor paused briefly, and Danny looked up. Was that a gleam in Clockwork’s eye?

“There is a way.”

Danny shot up into a seated position, crossing his legs.

“Tell me!”

“You will face many hardships.”

“Clockwork, serious as a funeral, I would kill for a burger right now.”

Clockwork smiled enigmatically.

“You may have to.”

He flicked his fingers and Danny found himself pushed back. He allowed it- at this point in his existence, he could overpower Clockwork, but he’d asked for this.

The world went dark around him.

~~~

In the year since he’d come to live with Father, Damian had not said a word about his brother. He’d been told, before being unceremoniously bundled away from the only home he’d ever known, that he was to be the heir of the Bat and Daniel was to be the Demon’s Head.

His mother had told him that Father would try and steal Daniel away from the League- that Damian would yet again be the lesser son. After a few months with Father, Damian had stopped believing that. There was no thing as a ‘lesser’ child for Father.

And yet.

Grandfather was a powerful man, and Grandfather treasured Daniel more than he had ever cared for Damian.

Daniel al Ghul, second son of the Bat of Gotham, was brilliant. He kept his emotions in check, fought with practiced ease in any situation, and spoke circles around even mother. It never took him as long as it took Damian to learn a new skill, and most of the time he spent studying, even when they were both allowed a break.

Damian loved him, even as the younger child overtook the position Damian had striven for his entire life.

What was not to love? Damian had loved him ever since his tiny hand had curled around his finger in infancy.

He had always been fond of small, cute things.

But if Daniel left the League, Grandfather would come after him, and it would be unsafe.

Damian held his tongue and loved his baby brother from a distance, even though he might never see him again.

~~~

John “Hellblazer” Constantine needed a drink. Or several.

Bats had appeared on the Watchtower with yet another new Robin, and this one was probably the most concerning out of all of them.

No, it wasn’t the sword.

It was the massive fucking protection order from a powerful death god that radiated off his small form.

“Bats.”

“Hm.”

“I need to talk to you and the kid.”

Bats nodded, a gesture John took to mean ‘go ahead’.

John sighed.

“Not here, Bats. Too many ears.”

“Hrn.”

The Bat swept away, followed closely by his brightly colored companion. John followed as well. He was pretty good at speaking Bat, after all these years working together.

They made their way into the bowels of the Watchtower, into a sitting room John hadn’t known existed.

“What do you need, Constantine?”

John paused for a moment, assessing. Robin was watching him suspiciously, hand on his sword, and Batman was standing half in front of the little bird protectively.

“Did you know this one was friends with a death god?”

“What?”

The Bat and Robin spoke the same word at the same time, in the exact same tone. Did they practice that? Anyways.

“Yup. Little redbreast screams hands off.”

“I am not acquainted with any gods.”

John shrugged.

“Doesn’t mean you knew they were a god. To get to the bottom of this- has anyone ever sworn to protect you in some way?”

Robin went still and pale behind his mask, before darting a glance up at Batman.

Batman, who was looking down at his sidekick.

“Robin? Report.”

The boy stuck his chin out.

“It was many years ago, Batman. He- they couldn’t have been a god.”

“You don’t know that, kid. Where did you meet him?”

“He wasn’t a god!”

Robin had become defensive, sword halfway out of it’s sheath, glaring at John- presumably for the sin of being alive.

“If the League of Assassins has contact with a deity of death, we need to know, Robin.”

Snarling, Robin started out of the room.

“I will not discuss him with either of you. He is safe where he is.”

“Robin- chum. Who is he?”

Robin stopped in the door, not looking back. His voice wobbled a little as he spoke.

“My younger brother.”

John needed a drink, and fast.

~~~

Danny stood over Damian’s bed, watching his older brother breathe shallowly. Grandfather had beat him badly, and Danny was still unsure why.

Talia wouldn’t look him in the eye, and Grandfather had gone to soak in the pits.

“Daniel?”

“Damian!”

Danny bent over his brother, placing a hand over his pulse to check it.

“Why?”

Why had Grandfather beaten him? Why had he stood and let it happen? Why didn’t he run?

“He… wanted me… t’kill you.”

Danny felt rage swell up in his tiny seven-year-old body. What right did Ra’s al Ghul think he had, to beat a child almost to death for such a reason?

What right did that man have, to touch someone Danny had come to care for?

Closing his eyes briefly, Danny allowed himself to meditate for the few moments it would take to let his rage die down enough to comfort his brother.

Once it had, he opened his eyes again and pressed his forehead to Damian’s.

“I swear I will protect you, ahki. Ra’s al Ghul will not taste relief in death.”

The next day Danny watched invisibly as Talia dipped Damian in the Lazarus pits to heal him before putting him on a plane to Gotham.

~~~

“You have made me proud, Daniel.”

Ra’s watched as Daniel bowed, having taken out a squadron of elite ninja for his tenth birthday.

The ninja were still breathing- Ra’s was sure Daniel had spared them so as to not weaken the ranks of the League he was set to inherit.

It pleased him that his young grandson was so wise, despite his youth. His older brother had no such wisdom- rash and impatient, still full of emotional weakness. Ra’s would no longer claim that boy as his grandson once Daniel passed his newest test.

With a wave of his hand, several ninja brought forth a young man. They had managed to kidnap Richard Grayson from under the nose of the Bat, and now Daniel would kill the other.

“Grandfather?”

“This is your Father’s oldest ward. He is a usurper to a place that rightfully should be yours. Kill him.”

Daniel walked towards the bound man, and the ninja holding the captive backed away respectfully.

“May I ask him a question, Grandfather?”

Ra’s nodded. There was no harm in it.

The boy drew his sword and stepped around the man, holding the blade to his neck.

“Tell me, Grayson. Is Damian well?”

The lilt in his voice spelled danger for Damian, and Ra’s could barely contain his grin at Daniel’s ferocity.

“He is protected,” the kneeling man forced out. “You won’t harm a hair on his head.”

Daniel smiled, not unlike a shark.

“I know.”

Before Ra’s could blink, Richard Grayson’s bonds had fallen to the floor as if he had turned into a ghost, and Daniel’s sword was stabbed into the dirt between the Demon Head’s feet.

“We are leaving, Ra’s, and you will not stop us.”

The venom in his calm grandson’s voice when Daniel said his name made Ra’s pause, but only for a moment.

At a gesture, ninja poured out into the courtyard, intent on recapturing Nightwing and taking down the heir to the Demon.

Seconds before the ninja collided with the two, Daniel grinned, his eyes locked straight on Ra’s, grabbed Grayson’s hand, and the two vanished.

~~~

Dick was… Confused didn’t quite cut it. His day had been a disaster, and then this tiny meta who looked like a carbon copy of Damian appeared.

“So… You a clone?”

“No.”

“Oh. Uh. What are we doing, by the way?”

The boy smiled serenely at him, and then continued his work.

“Jacking a plane.”

“You’re like, eight.”

The boy shrugged.

“If you like.”

“Where are we going?”

“Gotham.”

“Who are you?”

The boy turned and put his hands on his hips, and Dick was starkly reminded of Bruce by the posture and facial expression.

“Look, Grayson, I get it, you’re confused. But if you don’t shut up and let me finish this wiring, we’ll never get you back to Gotham before the League catches up.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

The boy turned back around and continued his wiring.

“Call me Danny. Too many fruitloops call me Daniel.”

Dick expected a long flight ahead of them.

~~~

Damian was strapping on the last of his gear to go rescue Richard from the League of Assassins when the man himself strolled into the batcave, looking tired but no worse for wear.

“Dick!”

Batman- no, he took his cowl off- Father threw himself across the room to assess the health of his son.

Damian started unstrapping his gear.

“How did you get free?”

“We apparently had a man on the inside?”

“Had?”

“He blew his cover to save me.”

“Nightwing, report. Where is this man now?”

“I was landing the plane. Nice digs, dad.”

The cave fell silent, but for the ringing of the batarangs Damian dropped as he spun to face the newcomer.

“Not sure what I think of the ��cave’ vibe you have going on, though.”

“Daniel?”

Daniel met Damian’s eyes, and a look Damian had never seen on his little brother broke out on the boy’s face.

A true, genuine, joyful smile.

“Akhi!”

Damian pulled out his sword and held it towards the stranger in his brother’s body.

“Who are you?”

The boy laughed.

“I’m a little weird now, right? It’s okay, Damian, it’s me.”

“What was the last thing you said to me.”

Damian felt that was a good question. No one but Daniel would know.

“I said I would protect you, and that Ra’s al Ghul would not experience a pleasant afterlife.”

“That-“

“Isn’t quite it, I know. Still true, though. I brought the Lazarus pits with me. Ra’s can’t use them anymore.”

Damian heard Father and Drake choke at Daniel’s words. This was Daniel, despite his complete personality change. No one had been with them when Daniel had made his promise.

“Since when were you a god of death?”

Daniel laughed.

“It’s a long story, Ahki.”

Damian sheathed his sword and held out a hand.

“Come then, habibi, tell me.”

“Can I have a burger to go with the story? I’m starving."

[songsanpotato]

Saved by the Beep?

PAIRING: university classmate!mingi x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 2.5k (got a bit carried away)

WARNINGS: mostly fluff, suggestive behaviour, SEXUAL TENSION, teasing, flirting, power dynamics?, everything is consensual SYNOPSIS: After making you cry in class, Mingi surprises you with a visit

A/N: I love a man who isn't afraid to cry, but unfortunately, not many of those exist any more :( maybe I'll write a pt2? who knows. Not grammar and spelling checked, oops.

IMPORTANT: All writing belongs to @songsanpotato. Any similarities to events or other written pieces of fiction are purely coincidental unless otherwise stated. This is in no way a reflection of the idol that is being written about in real life. Do not repost anywhere without permission.

Link to masterlist

"Coming!" You shout from your bed room as someone rings your doorbell.

It's a rainy Thursday night and you've just dried your hair after taking the most relaxing everything shower you've ever had.

University life is stressful - especially when a certain guy in your class, who you may or may not have had a crush on since the moment you met him, decided to call you untalented in front of the entire class.

Mingi was his name. Turning up to every lesson is the most non-slutty slutty outfits that a man could ever wear. His large shoulders, chest and his tiny whorish waist constantly on display through his tight t shirts. You weren't surprised you fell for him but you knew you could not tell anyone - that's a sign of weakness.

Instead, you resorted to playful teasing and banter, which he readily engaged in. But something about the way he'd called you untalented at the class hangout before lesson made it feel as if he was being serious. Unable to contain your realisation in that moment, you excused yourself from room and walked to the bathroom without trying to arouse any suspicion that you could actually be feeling upset.

Washing your face, making sure to erase any signs that you had been crying, you head back to the classroom and stay quiet for the rest of the lesson. At the end, Mingi comes over to you.

"Are you okay?" he asks, genuine concern plastered on his face.

"Yeah, I'm fine." You say, forcing a smile on your face as you quickly walk out the door and back to your apartment.

After eating what may well have been a lifetime supply of gyozas from your freezer, you decided today would be a self care day as you watch the clouds begin to darken outside and the rain begin to fall.

That's why you found it confusing that anyone would be at your door at this time. Your apartment was a little way away from anyone else's that you knew.

You open the door to find a soaking wet Mingi stood in front of you.

"Mingi what are-" you start before being interrupted as Mingi wraps his arms around your frame, dwarfing you in the process.

It catches you off guard, as you feel yourself stop breathing. When you finally manage to tell your brain to keep breathing, your other senses kick in. He smells so good, he always smells good. His hair tickles the side of your neck as you realise he's crying.

Mingi never cries.

He made that very clear before when you jokingly told him to cry after he feigned sadness.

"Hey, it's okay. Let it out, it's okay." you say, unable to move your hands to comfort him in any sort of way because his arms were still tightly wrapped around you.

"I'm sorry." He sniffles into your neck.

"Huh?" You say.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Mingi babbles, a constant string of sorries tumbling out of his mouth.

Shimmying out his grasp, you manage to free yourself and grab his face.

"Mingi, breathe."

"I-"

"I said breathe, not speak."

When you finally see him take a deep breath, you begin to speak.

"Come inside." You begin, "You're drenched."

Guiding him inside, you point to the bathroom.

"Take a shower, I'll leave a towel and some clothes at the door." you say softly.

He nods slowly and slumps towards the bathroom. When you finally hear the lock click and the shower begin to run, you let your emotions overcome you as you steady yourself against the wall.

What just happened?

No time to stand and think, you need to find him some clothes. Mingi was a giant of a man compared to you. None of your clothes would fit him.

Frantically searching through your wardrobe, you pull out the largest shirt you had, a gift from your mum that she had sent in a care package after your second week at university.

That'll do. Now, trousers?

You try and find the largest pair of sweatpants you could find, with no success.

Now what?

Your internal panic begins to increase as you hear the shower turn off. Running towards the bathroom door, you leave the tent of a shirt and a towel on the floor. Gently knocking on the door, you speak.

"Hey, so I don't have any bottoms for you because you know- you're huge so if you pass me your clothes, I can put them in the dryer while you get changed?" you offer.

You hear the lock click and watch as steam escapes the doorway and Mingi's arm outstretched hands you his clothes which have obviously been wrung out in the sink.

Bless him, he tried.

"Shirt and towel are at the door." You say, turning on your heels and walking towards your dryer and throwing his damp clothes in. Turning it on, you flop down on your sofa and decide to doom scroll through your instagram feed. You need this time to ground yourself somewhere in reality, why not let it be in other people's reality.

And just as you were about to question whether this was all real happening or not, Mingi appears in the doorway of the living room.

His usual demeanour was gone, his teasing aura now replaced with something similar to a shy little child. Staring down at his feet, you realise why.

Your shirt only just fit him and the towel that was wrapped around his waist hung dangerously low.

You bite your bottom lip to stop yourself from giggling.

"Come sit." You say, patting the sofa next to you. "Your clothes should be done in like fifteen minutes ish? That depends on whether the dryer wants to be good and actually work, otherwise it may take longer."

You feel the sofa dip as you watch Mingi sit down next to you. His hair still slightly damp, framing his eyes, which now looked heavy, a stark contrast from his usual shiny and outgoing self.

"Are you okay?" You ask quietly, shifting yourself to sit cross-legged in front of him.

"Yeah." He says, his eyes half-lidded.

You can't tell whether it's from sadness or tiredness, but either way, it didn't make you happy.

"What's going on?" you ask, hesitantly.

Mingi just looks at you.

"Look, whatever is going on, clearly is upsetting you. And if you think it has something to do with me, I promise, it's okay." you say as you watch him shift uncomfortably.

"Y/n-"

"If you're about to say you're sorry again, I'm going to kick you out and you can stand outside in that towel."

Mingi's lips curl into a small smile, and you finally relax.

"Every time you apologise, you owe me food. Now talk." you say, leaning your side against the sofa.

"I didn't mean to make you upset, the words just came out of my mouth before I said it and I knew as soon as I said it that it was wrong and-"

"Wait wait," you say, cutting through his rant, "Who said I was upset?"

"You cried didn't you?" he asks, his head tilting to the side, to mirror your body position.

"No I didn't." You lied.

"Yes you did." he counters.

"No, I didn't." You repeat, putting emphases on the words.

"Yes, you did." he mimics you, "Your nose was pink after you came back, and two of your eyelashes were stuck together. You were either crying or you washed your face, and I know for a definite that you were crying because of your nose, and by the way the baby hairs on your hairline were sticking to your forehead, it seemed to me that you washed your face too."

You feel the heat creeping up your face as Mingi's eyes burn holes into yours.

"What about you?" You stammer trying to change the subject, "Why were you wet? Did you walk here or something?"

"I ran actually."

Now it was your turn to stare back at him.

He ran. In the rain. To apologise. Because he made you cry?

Your mind raced with a million things a second, your eyes never leaving Mingi's. You felt the air begin to tense as the eye contact felt a little too uncomfortable.

"Mingi-" you say as you break eye contact to look at the wall behind him.

"Y/n, I need you to understand something." He says shuffling slightly towards you so that his left thigh just touched your crossed legs.

"Okay." You say shrinkingly, suddenly feeling an intense amount of attention on you.

You watch as Mingi's eyelashes flutter as he ghost blinks, taking in your face.

"I ran, in the rain, for you."

"Yes, I put that together." you say.

"Why?" he whispers, tipping his head forward as he leans towards you.

"Why what?" you whisper back.

"Why did I do that?"

You blink for a second, unsure of how to respond. The weight of Mingi's intensely silent stare made you feel uneasy. You breathe a shaky sigh.

"I don't know." You whisper, staring at the floor.

An uncomfortable feeling settled into your body, you needed to get out of whatever this was.

"You don't know?" he leans forwards even more so that if he did it one more time, your noses would touch, "Or you're ignoring it?"

This is too much.

You might have a crush on this man, but that does not mean you know how to handle situations that have an immense amount of tension - sexual tension.

You feel your body begin to move for you, as you stand up.

"Where are you going?" Mingi says as you walk towards the door.

"I- er, need to check on the dryer." You say, frantically trying to ignore the pounding of your heart that is settling in your eardrums.

"Y/n." he calls out to you, making you stop in your tracks.

Something about the way he said your name was so enticing. No, you shouldn't be stopping. But you were no longer in control of your body.

You turn around to see Mingi now manspreading across your sofa, his arm up against the back of it, his head tilted to one side.

Oh my god he looks so sexy right now.

You shake your head, trying to get rid of the thoughts inside your head.

"Please sit back down." He smiles seductively at you.

You don't know whether it's seduction he's going for, or he's just smiling casually. All you know is that you shouldn't do what he's asking you to do. That gives him power, and he's had enough of that for today.

"No." You say, trying to sound confident, but it comes more sheepish.

"I said sit down." he says gently.

Excuse you?

"I'm not a dog." you say, now finding yourself stood right in front of him, trying to assert some kind of dominance over him in this situation.

"No?" He asks, "Then why are you in front of me instead of your dryer."

You swallow the lump in your throat that you didn't know was there. Admitting defeat, you sit back down in your original spot and feel Mingi's eyes burning through you.

"Not there." he says.

"What?"

"Here."

Your eyes follow his hand, watching his free hand tap his thigh. Eyes flicking back up to his face, you watch a cheeky grin spread across his face.

"Okay, no, this is getting out of hand. I'm going to get your clothes and you need to go home." you say, determined to do exactly as you say.

Mingi stands up with you and begins to follow.

"But if you've just dried my clothes, wouldn't it be a waste if I went back home in the rain?" he says, his strides larger than yours as he blocks the doorway with his frame.

"I'll get you an uber or something." You say as you try and move the man out of your path.

He does not budge.

You try squeezing past him but he blocks you.

"Please Mingi just let me get through." you pant slapping his chest.

Who knew that trying to move a man who was built like a brick wall would be so difficult. Surrendering again, you bang your fists against him.

"Stop, that hurts." He says, clearly pretending to be affected as he grabs your wrists.

"That's a shame." You say, trying to free yourself from his grip, "Maybe you should cry about it."

Your attempts at trying to discourage him from whatever he was thinking were all going in vain.

Mingi pushes you by your hands up against the wall beside the door. Closing the gap between the two of you, he leans down, his forehead against yours as he breathes heavily.

"I already told you, I don't cry." he says lowly.

That's not what I saw.

You want to say something. But with Mingi's hands pinning your wrists and his face so close to yours, your throat goes dry.

"Nothing to say now?" Mingi teases, holding eye contact as he guiding your hands up above your head, both of yours held up by one of his as his hand comes down to caress the side of your face, "Good."

His hand grabs the side of your neck, his thumb underneath your earlobe as he leans down and presses his lips against yours. Your body feels like it's about to give way as fireworks explode in your brain.

Wait no, you can't be doing this.

Your eyes snap open, as you back your face away, struggling against his hand that still gripped your neck and Mingi's lips still against yours

"Mingi, stop-" you say against his mouth.

"You want me to stop?" he says, attaching his lips to the column of your neck.

"Please-" you say, moaning at the feeling of him.

"Because you're telling me to stop," he says, licking a stripe down to your collarbone, causing a shiver to run up your spine, "But your body's are telling me to keep going."

In the heat of the moment, you hadn't realised that your head had instinctively moved to give Mingi more access and he'd let go of your hands and they were now attached to his hair, finger tangled in between his dark locks.

He was right. You did want this. But you couldn't feed his ego anymore.

Slowly kissing back up to your face, he stops before reaching your lips again.

"Y/n." he says.

"Please don't say my name like that." you try and bring yourself back to reality, "And please stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"You know what I mean." you say, frustrated.

"Do I? Maybe I just need to all of that again." He says, moving his face towards yours again.

His nose bumps into yours and his lips just ghost over yours when you hear a loud beeping sound.

Your dryer.

Thank god.

Saved by the... beep?

[mejaemin]

헤어져 ( •̀ ᴗ •́ ) - pfu

wc: 1.5k

summary: pulling a “let’s break up” prank on bf!svt !! | pfu ver | hhu ver | vcu ver |

warnings: not proofread, breaking hearts UGH THEYRE TOO SOFT CUTIE FOR THIS I CANT, no real breakups, angst? kinda? not really? fear of breaking up, lmk if anything should fr be tagged

an: i lowkey hate how juju’s turned out … but it’s okay!!! i really wanted to get this done bc i found the req funny because just hearing the words “break up” reminds me of the kungkungdda video with atz yunho saying 헤어져… its lit been stuck in my head since the req came in

───── ⋆⋅ ⊹ ⁺ 𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ͡ ৯ ♡໒⁀ ᩧຼ ꒱ིྀ ⁺ ⊹ ⋅⋆ ─────

soonyoung

oh my love, he’d be so confused

you’re lucky the trend happens over text because if you did it in person and saw the pout on his face you’d give in right away !!!

he’s opening his phone after waking up in the morning, swiping his palm over his nose and the rest of his face before checking his notifications, when his heart drops

the first one, from you, saying “let’s talk” … quite ominous, no?

immediately he’s going to your house without asking to go and settle whatever he did right away.

you’ve already distracted yourself, staying busy with absolutely nothing while you leave your phone alone to build suspense. you nearly jump out of your socks when your front door starts wiggling, nearly falling out of the frame when it opens. turning around, you’re met with soonyoung, who’s extremely out of breath, clothes all mismatched as he stands in the doorway.

you rush over to him, “youngie, what are you-“

he cuts you off, grabbing you by your shoulders a little too roughly. his look is so intense yet anxious that he might put a dent in his forehead. “i’m really sorry. whatever i did, please forgive me. but you can’t- well you can, but- just please don’t break up with me, okay?”

immediately upon seeing his face, puffy from sleep and all wrinkled up in concern, you fold, taking him into your arms tightly. “oh soonie, i was joking, i promise.” you kiss his cheek, and his head turns so it lands on his lips. “you didn’t do anything, baby.”

he pulls his head back just enough to look in your eyes, eyebrow raised. “do you promise?”

with his cheeks between your palms you nod, pressing your lips to his forehead, holding them there to show you’re being genuine. “of course. i could never leave you, soonyoung.”

junhui

jun is always so quick to answer your text messages, leaving no time in between before answering you

clearly, when you send him a message saying “let’s break up”, his heart drops faster than it took for him to open the message.

immediately he’s sending a message, full of reassuring words.

“i’m so sorry that something happened to make you feel this way. i’ll be over shortly to talk about it, okay? hang tight, i’ll pick some stuff up on the way. just don’t give up, okay?”

you’re already regretting this at his words, feeling so much love for junhui and the way he takes you so seriously. he may be silly a lot of the time, but he handles serious moments so well. your heart genuinely hurts at the fact that he’s probably so worried right now, and all you’re doing is pranking him. when he gets here, you’ll make sure to give him relief.

there’s a knock on your door, and you rush to open it. junhui is standing there with a small bouquet of flowers and a bag with what appears to be snacks. “i know you might not be interested now, but here.. can we try fixing this?”

once you let him in he sets them down, and as soon as he turns around you’re taking his hands. immediately you’re confessing, seeing his unsure face. “juju.. i was joking. i saw people pranking on tiktok, and i-“

“ahh, i see. i was actually really scared just now.” he chuckles softly, cutting you off. “but forreal, it’s hard to tell tone over text. i’d rather you prank me like that in real life, okay?”

the anxiety fades away, and you’re both all smiles again. since he’s already with you, you sit down together for the rest of the night and spend it watching shows and eating what were supposed to be your break-up snacks.

minghao

we all know minghao’s heart is too tough for a prank as simple and common as this

of course, like anyone who’s madly on love, his heart will pick up at first, but he’s too observant!

you both established healthy methods to communicate the way you were feeling if something about the relationship made you uncomfortable, so when all these keywords and behaviors are suddenly thrown out the window his flags go up

you and him both take preserving the relationship and each other’s feelings seriously so you would never just say “i want to break up”

thus, he plays along

minghao is sitting across from you on the couch, reading a book when you call his name. he looks up, and when he hears you say you want to break up with him, an alarm goes off in his head. he closes the book and sits up straight, grabbing your hands to have a proper conversation.

“can i ask what makes you want to?” he’s so genuine, true concern in his eyes as he tries to hear you out.

you look in your lap, hiding your face while trying to keep up the theatrics. “i just.. don’t feel a spark anymore. i’m falling out of love.”

it’s that sentence that makes him realize what you’re doing. you both agreed that whenever a conversation of this scale occurs, you wouldn’t be vague about whatever you’re feeling. you’d communicate clearly, and make an effort to find a solution.

hiding his smirk, he nods, sighing heavily. “ah, okay. i understand. i’ll give you your space then.” he gets up, a solemn look on his face as he heads to your bedroom. as soon as his back is to you, he’s smirking, amused at the thought of waiting to see how long it’ll take before you crack.

clearly, it’s not long, because as soon as he shuts the door you’re up and running towards him. the door nearly breaks with how rushed you are at opening it, immediately crashing into him. “hao, oh my god, please, i was joking! don’t give me space, please, i don’t want it-“

he cuts you off, grabbing you by your chin to kiss you. “oh, i know, darling. i know every little thing about you, like what you do when you’re trying to trick me. now, let’s not do that again, okay? because i’ll gladly do it back.”

dino

just the idea of pranking chan in this way hurts your heart :(( he’s such a sweet boy !! however…

jeonghan waved quite the pretty penny in front of your face, claiming that it will be yours if you pull the prank on him.

you are very aware of chan being unable to catch a break when it comes to being pranked, but you could only pray that with this nice amount of money, he’ll understand

pulling the prank was definitely painful, though

you’re at an outing with chan and his brothers, hanging out at the porch of a getaway home with some of them. you’re by a fire, drinks in hand as you all chat. when chan notices that your cup is empty, he wordlessly takes it from you to go fill it.

as soon as he leaves, you feel a tap on your shoulder. turning your head, jeonghan is sitting next to you, waving his hand for you to lean in. “i’ll give you…” he digs into his pocket, finding nothing and then reaching into seungcheol’s, taking out a wad of cash and holding it in front of you. “this if you tell chan you want break up.”

immediately you’re looking at him with a bewildered look. why would you ever fumble the sweetest man in the world for money? he’s chuckling at your reaction, waving a hand dismissively. “all jokes, of course, but if you really get him i’ll give you all that. for real.”

jeonghan waves it in front of you once again, and you’ve seen how fat seungcheol’s wallet is. and a few of the digits on those bills were pretty large, so… chan will understand, right? maybe scaring him a little for all this will be worth it, right? you can go out together with your winnings…

you sigh, nodding your head. “fine. but if it ends bad, you’ll clean up the mess. and then i’ll kill you.” you smile, shaking his hand before turning to chan who finally returned.

he hands you your drink with a kids to your forehead before sitting down. “what were you guys talking about?” he’s smiling so sweetly at you, and it makes your heart literally hurt at what you’re about to do.

“chan, i think we should break up.” you’re almost grimacing at yourself, and at that sentence everyone around the fire stops talking. no way the couple who makes everyone believe in true love is about to split.

“um, what..? are you..” he can’t even finish his sentence, swallowing heavily as his vision almost starts shaking.

immediately, being unable to take the torture anymore, you turn to jeonghan, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him vigorously. through many complaints, whining and yelling at the elder, you grab the aforementioned money from his pocket.

triumphantly you kiss chan on the lips, pulling away and showing him your new prize. “i’m so, so sorry, channie, truly i would never break up with you, but look what he offered! please say you understand…”

immediately your boyfriend relaxes, eyes narrowing as he looks at the man behind you. “watch your back, han. seriously. that money almost went towards my funeral funds, i swear.”

───── ⋆⋅ ⊹ ⁺ 𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ͡ ৯ ♡໒⁀ ᩧຼ ꒱ིྀ ⁺ ⊹ ⋅⋆ ─────

[dovesdreaming]

Beyond the scrubs

Summary: Alex karev is dating an attending (reader) in secret until he can’t take the hiding anymore.

A/n: I’ve forgot to say on my other posts but thank you for 300 followers (now more) <3

Request

Masterlist

Warnings: talk of injuries

-

It started as a fling-no promises, no complications, just a way to blow off steam during the long, grueling hours at Seattle Grace. Alex Karev wasn’t the type to settle down, and you weren’t the type to let yourself get caught up in messy entanglements. You were both driven, ambitious, and in control. At least, that’s what you told yourselves. The on-call room was your safe haven, the place where you could steal moments together, away from prying eyes and the judgmental whispers that filled the hospital corridors. Late at night, when the rest of the world was sleeping, you’d find each other in the dimly lit room, the only sounds being the hum of the air conditioning and the soft rustling of scrubs.

“Hey, you” you whispered as you slipped into the room, your heart racing in a way it hadn’t in years. Alex was already there, leaning against the wall with that familiar smirk that always made your stomach flutter. “Hey yourself” he replied, his voice low and teasing. “Long night?”. “Isn’t it always?” You sighed, walking over to him. The stress of the day seemed to melt away the moment you were in his arms, your bodies fitting together perfectly. You kissed, slowly at first, savoring the few minutes you had together. It wasn’t just about the physical connection, though that was part of it. There was something more between you both, something unspoken that neither of you were ready to admit.

As you pulled away, you looked into Alex’s eyes, seeing a vulnerability there that he rarely showed. “We need to be careful” you said, your voice tinged with concern. “If anyone finds out…” “I know” Alex cut you off, his tone more serious now. “But I don’t want to stop”. “Neither do I” you admitted, your resolve wavering. “But we both know how it’ll look. I’m an attending, and you’re… well, you”. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Doctor”. Alex quipped, his smirk returning, but there was a tension in his jaw that you didn’t miss. Your expression softened, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. “You’re a damn good doctor, Alex. One of the best. But people talk, and the last thing I want is for anyone to think you’re getting special treatment because of… this”.

Alex’s eyes darkened, and for a moment, you thought you’d pushed too far. But then he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I don’t give a damn what anyone thinks. I know I’ve earned my place here. And so do you”. His words sent a warmth through you and you found herself smiling despite the situation. “You’re right” you said softly. “We’ll just have to be smart about it”. “Yeah, smart” Alex echoed, though there was something in his tone that made you wonder if he was already planning on breaking that rule.

As the weeks went by, you managed to keep your relationship under wraps. You were careful. No stolen glances during rounds, no lingering touches in the halls. But there were moments when the facade almost slipped, when Alex’s hand would brush against yours, or when you would catch yourself watching him a little too intently as he worked.

It was during a particularly stressful day in the ER that you had your first real scare. A trauma case had come in, a young boy, barely ten, with a gunshot wound to the chest. It was all hands on deck, and the pressure was palpable as the team worked to stabilize him. Alex was in the thick of it, his hands steady as he assisted Dr. Bailey with the surgery. You watched from the sidelines, your heart in her throat as you fought to save the boy’s life. When it was finally over, and the boy was stable, the tension broke like a dam, relief flooding the room. “Good work, Karev” Bailey said gruffly, her way of acknowledging a job well done. Alex nodded, pulling off his gloves and letting out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. As he turned to leave, he caught your eye. For a split second, the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you, the intensity of the moment pulling them together like a magnet. Without thinking, Alex reached out, his hand brushing against yours in a gesture that was too familiar, too intimate for the public setting. Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly pulled away, your eyes darting around to see if anyone had noticed. Dr. Bailey’s sharp gaze was on you both, and you felt a pang of panic. But before she could say anything, Bailey turned away, muttering something about paperwork and leaving the room.

“Close call” Alex murmured as you walked out of the OR, his voice laced with a mix of relief and amusement. “Too close” you replied, your pulse still racing. “We have to be more careful, Alex. If Bailey had said something..” “But she didn’t,” Alex interrupted, his expression serious. “Look, I get it. We have to keep this quiet. But I’m not going to act like I don’t care about you. Not in here” he gestured to the hallway around them, “and not out there”. You wanted to argue, to tell him that you had to keep your distance, but the look in his eyes stopped you. There was a determination there, a certainty that you couldn’t deny. So instead, you nodded, letting yourself believe, just for a moment, that everything would be okay.

It was a few weeks later when everything came to a head. You’d been playing the game for so long, sneaking around, keeping your relationship hidden, that it was starting to wear on both of you. Alex was growing more frustrated, his usual bravado masking the tension that simmered beneath the surface. You too were feeling the strain, the constant fear of being discovered gnawing at your nerves. The final straw came during a particularly hectic day in the clinic. Alex had been working nonstop, dealing with a never ending stream of patients, and you could see the exhaustion in his eyes. You wanted to reach out, to offer him a moment of comfort, but there were too many eyes, too many people who could see.

And then it happened.

One of the other attendings, Dr. Stevens, made a comment, a casual remark about how Alex was getting all the best cases, how he always seemed to be in the right place at the right time. It was said in jest, but the implication was clear: favoritism. You felt your stomach drop, the color draining from your face as the words hung in the air. You waited for Alex to brush it off, to let it slide like he usually did. But instead, he snapped.

“Maybe I get the best cases because I’m a damn good doctor” Alex retorted, his voice cutting through the room like a knife. “Or is that too hard for you to believe?”. The room went silent, the tension thick enough to choke on. You could see the shock on everyone’s faces, the way they exchanged glances, as if suddenly realizing there was more going on than they’d thought. Dr. Stevens opened his mouth to respond, but Alex didn’t give him the chance. “You know what? Screw this. Yeah, I’m seeing Dr. Y/L/N We’ve been together for a while now. And it’s got nothing to do with my work. So if anyone’s got a problem with that, say it now”.

Your heart stopped, your mind racing as you processed what he’d just done. Alex had just blown your cover, exposed your relationship to the entire room. But as you looked at him, standing there with that defiant look in his eyes, you realised something. You didn’t care. You weren’t ashamed of what you had, and you weren’t going to let anyone make you feel like you should be. Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward, your voice steady as you spoke. “Alex is right. Our relationship is personal, and it has no bearing on the work we do here. If anyone has a problem with that, you can take it up with me.”

There was a murmur of surprise, but no one challenged you. Dr. Stevens, for his part, looked chastened, muttering an apology under his breath. As the room slowly returned to its usual hum of activity, Alex turned to you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You sure about this?” he asked, his voice softer now. “Yeah” you replied, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “I’m sure”.

And just like that, the secret was out. It wasn’t easy, and there were still challenges to face. Whispers in the halls, disapproving looks from some of your colleagues but you faced it together, no longer hiding, no longer pretending. Because in the end, it wasn’t about what anyone else thought. It was about the connection you shared, the trust you had in each other. And that was something worth owning, something worth fighting for.

-

Thank you for reading <3

[audliminal]

It's Just a Game, Right? Pt 5

Masterpost

"It's a pun." Tim murmurs, staring at the notes he's supposed to be sharing with Bernard. "I can't believe I didn't notice that sooner."

"Wait what?"

"The off-key notes are the key to the Caeser ciphers."

"Oh my god." Bernard stares at Tim's notebook. Just like Tim said, each off note is exactly the same amount of steps away from correct as the corresponding number of steps to move down the Caesar cipher. "Okay that's, like, kind of insane? Do we need to be looking for puns now?"

"Potentially? Double meanings are the basis of riddles, which are basically just word-based logic puzzles, so you know... Depending on someone's motivations they might find them equally valuable."

"Huh." Bernard tilts his head considering the new information. "Wait, does that mean that like, the Riddler uses puns? Is that a thing?"

"All the time, actually."

"Dude, why do you just know that?" Tim freezes, remembering too late that most people don't have access to dossiers on every rogue. "No, nevermind I know you're like, weirdly knowledgeable about the bats and the rogues; I shouldn't be surprised."

"Well, maybe everyone should pay a little more attention to their MOs," Tim says pointedly. "They are generally considered to be the most serious safety threat in Gotham, after all.

"I mean, I know generally what their deals are, I just don't go all Genius-Mode about it." Bernard laughs, then gets a thoughtful look on his face. Oh no, Tim thinks. "Hey, maybe the bats should, like, commission your help to deal with the Riddler. I'd bet you'd work through his weird puzzles in like, ten minutes!"

"I feel like they're doing fine as is."

"Yeah, I guess, but like. What if they could do it even faster, right?"

"Maybe." Tim fiddles with his pen. "Do you want to know what else I found?"

"Wait, you found more?"

"Not much; it came to a dead-end pretty quickly, but the implications are- concerning."

"Oh?"

"I noticed that the length of time for each photo seemed randomized, which I thought might also be a choice based on the music, since they always shift in time with a note, but there wasn't any logical pattern I could find there."

"I mean, that doesn't seem like a dead-end, that just sounds like we're missing something."

"Exactly. So I made a list of the durations between each incorrect note, and I ran that through a code checker, and it turned out to be encoded in base 26." Tim points to the corresponding list of numbers, and then below it, to where he's written out the translation.

"Dude." Bernard stares at the notebook, looking back at Tim with wide eyes.

"Someone is begging for our help."

"This is so cool!" Bernard exclaims grabbing at Tim's shoulders and shaking him lightly. "How have I not dragged you into solving ARGs before this you're so good at it! Just wait till I tell everyone on the forum!"

Tim blinks, Bernard's sudden excitement in direct opposition to the words had written down. When he'd cracked it, all he had felt was a spike of adrenaline, the anticipation of knowing there's somebody that needs help. But there isn't, is there? This whole thing is just a game. And the people that wrote this, that made these videos, that encoded these messages - the real people, are just having fun.

Tim takes a deep breath and does his best to match Bernard's excitement. But the words on the page keep staring back at him.

Help us please help us

[iitslera]

Baby on the way : JJ Maybank x reader

Summary:  JJ and his girlfriend (reader named Grace) become young parents.

Warnings: English is not my first language (use of iphone translator), I don’t use y/n (reader is called Grace or Gigi as JJ calls her), Other than that, I think it’s pure fluff.

A/n: I’m receiving requests from JJ and Rafe, (im hoped to improve my level of English soon to stop using the iPhone translator) Based on S4 after buying the house from the bank, enjoy.

𖹭.ᐟ pt2

I held the test in my hands, with the words confirming what I had been feeling for days: Positive. That word seemed so small, but it carried an immense weight. My mind was in chaos. 

I didn’t know whether to cry, scream, or just stay silent until the world stopped spinning.  

How was I going to tell JJ? I couldn’t imagine his reaction, and that terrified me. We had been through so much together, but this was different. This was... too real.  

I closed my eyes for a moment and tried to calm myself. The sound of the birds outside the house helped a little, though not enough.  

I walked toward the dock, hoping the salty breeze would clear the knot in my throat. I saw him from a distance, laughing with Pope and John B, as if the world were simple, as if nothing mattered more than the moment. For a second, I wished things could stay that way, uncomplicated. But then, JJ saw me.  

His smile slowly faded, and his expression turned serious. He knew me too well. He could tell something was wrong.  

When he reached me, I felt like I could barely breathe. My heart was pounding so loudly I thought he could hear it.  

“Is everything okay?” he asked, with that mix of concern and tenderness that always broke me. I shook my head because I knew I couldn’t lie to him, not this time.  

“You’re worrying me, Gigi…” he said, stepping closer.  

My hands trembled. I tried to stop them, to stay strong, but I couldn’t. I had to say it. There was no other choice. I took a breath, though it felt like I was running out of air, and finally, I let it out.  

“I’m pregnant…”

I said it so softly I almost didn’t hear myself, but he did. I saw it in his eyes. His expression changed in an instant. First, surprise, then confusion, and something else I couldn’t identify. I wasn’t sure if it was fear or something like happiness, but it was clear he didn’t know what to feel either.  

“Are you... sure?”he asked, his voice trembling.  

“Yes… I’m sure. I took a test, and... it’s positive.”

When I finally dared to look at him, I found those blue eyes that had captured me from the beginning. This time, there was no trace of the confidence he usually projected. It was like he was as scared as I was. But then, something changed. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close.  

“Wow…” he murmured, as if trying to find the right words. “This is unexpected, but… we’re in this together, right?”

The knot in my chest loosened a little, and for the first time, I felt like I could breathe. I didn’t know how we were going to face this or what it meant for us, but at least I wasn’t alone. JJ was here, and that was all I needed at that moment.  

I never thought JJ would be capable of transforming the way he did. Being young parents wasn’t something we had planned, but seeing him so committed and dedicated made me feel that, maybe, everything would be okay.

He made the hardest days more bearable, and even when I felt exhausted or sick, his presence always gave me strength.

Morning sickness became my constant enemy in the early weeks. Every morning I woke up with that nauseous feeling in my stomach, and although just the smell of food made it worse, JJ was there, patiently trying to get me to eat something.

He would wake up earlier than I did to prepare toast or crackers, whatever I could tolerate. He never complained, not even when I asked him to move anything with a smell I couldn't stand.

Today was a calm, sunny day. I sat in the porch hammock, enjoying a bit of peace as a book rested in my lap and the wind tousled my hair. My hands instinctively rested on my growing belly. I couldn’t help but think about the little life growing inside me. It was a strange and wonderful feeling all at once.

Suddenly, JJ appeared with a smile, holding a bag in his hand. As soon as I saw what was inside, I knew what it was: strawberries with cream. My favorite craving of the past few days. I laughed, surprised and grateful at the same time.

“Hi, beautiful”he said with that smile of his that always disarmed me. “I brought you your strawberries with cream.”

My eyes lit up when I saw him, and I couldn’t help but smile.

“You’re the best, you know that?” I told him as I made space in the hammock for him to sit next to me.

JJ set the bag on my lap and sat beside me.

“Anything for you, babe” he replied, winking at me. “You and she deserve the best.”

“she?” I asked, raising an eyebrow, amused. “How do you know it’s going to be a girl?”

He shrugged, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“I have a feeling” he said, with a confident smile. I laughed, both amused and surprised by his certainty.

“Now you can guess the baby’s gender too?“ I joked.

He simply smiled with that mischievous look he was known for, took a strawberry with cream, and brought it to my lips. I took a small bite, savoring the sweet flavor. It was so simple, yet so special.

“And what will you do if it’s a boy?” I asked with a playful smile as I chewed.

“Then I’ll have guessed wrong” he said, shrugging before bringing another strawberry to his mouth. “But I don’t think so. My intuition never fails me.”

“You’re impossible” I replied, laughing. “And if you’re right? What will we call her, if it’s a girl?”

JJ paused for a moment, then his eyes lit up.

“Kai”  he said, with a mix of excitement and tenderness. “It means ‘Sea’ in Hawaiian."

I felt something stir inside me when I heard that name. I repeated it softly, savoring its meaning, imagining our daughter and how it would feel to call her that.

“It’s perfect” I told him, with a smile I couldn’t hide.

At that moment, with the sun shining down on us and his presence beside me, I felt that despite the fears and doubts, we were building something beautiful. Kai. Our little Kai.

“What about you, little one? Do you like Kai?“ JJ asked with a smile, gently rubbing my belly. His voice was soft, as if he were already talking directly to her, as if they already shared a special bond.

And then, I felt it. Something moved inside me. It wasn’t the first time, but this time it was different, stronger, clearer. My breath caught for a moment, surprised by that small but powerful connection that reminded me our baby was there, growing, becoming a part of us.

JJ looked at me with wide eyes, surprised and excited at the same time.

“Did you feel that?” he asked, his tone full of awe. I nodded slowly, still processing the sensation.

“Yes... “  I murmured, my voice filled with emotion. He couldn’t hide the smile that spread across his face. He placed his hand back on my belly, as if he expected to feel it too, as if he wanted to make sure he hadn’t imagined it.

“It’s amazing...” he whispered, almost to himself, as his fingers traced small circles on my skin. “Our Kai... she’s already here, making herself known.”

Tears filled my eyes, but this time they weren’t out of fear or uncertainty. They were tears of pure happiness, of gratitude for this shared moment, for knowing that, despite everything, we were in this together.

JJ looked up and saw my teary eyes.

“Are you okay?“ he asked, his voice filled with concern for a second.

“Yes...” I replied with a smile I couldn’t contain. “It’s just that... all of this makes me feel that, really, everything is going to be okay.”

He hugged me, pressing his forehead against mine.

“ It’s going to be more than okay, Grace. We’re going to be an amazing team. You, me, and our little Kai”

And in that moment, with his hand still on my belly and the sensation of the baby moving inside me, I knew he was right. Everything would be okay.

We didn’t live in a huge house with hundreds of rooms in Figure Height, yet we put all our effort into making the place where the baby would sleep special. We started with the smallest details, choosing each object and color with such care, as if we were creating our own home within that space.

Our room, though not very big, was cozy and perfect for what we needed.

JJ was so involved in the process that he couldn’t stop commenting on the "perfect touches" he had chosen. We created a place where she could grow up surrounded by love and tranquility, and although it wasn’t easy to make decisions, every choice seemed to fall into place little by little.

Once we placed the crib next to our bed, we began working on the small details: soft white curtains that let in natural light, one of those crib mobiles with sea animals because JJ loved the idea of our baby growing up surrounded by those little marine touches, something that connected him to his own roots.

The shelves were filled with children's storybooks that Pope had given us, some soft toys, and several stuffed animals we had started collecting thanks to the rest of our friends.

Every time I walked into the room with all these new changes, I couldn’t help but smile. It felt like a dream come true. Everything was ready to welcome our little baby, a place filled with love and hope.

[p0orbaby]

For a Good Time, Call… (epilogue)

summary: the future

warnings: brief mention of some sexy times but that’s about it

a/n: something small to round off this little series

word count: 732

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

-

You wake up to the feeling of being watched.

A jarring prospect for anyone at seven in the morning, but it’s something you’ve gotten used to over the years.

When you first moved in together, Leah had a very strange habit of watching you sleep. The first time you caught her doing it you acted out of pure instinct and socked her square in the face.

In your defense, it was early and you were half asleep. What else were you supposed to do when you’ve got a blurry shape leaning over you at the ass crack of dawn? Let yourself be murdered? You think not.

Her reasoning, you soon found out, was actually very sweet. She explained that she often woke up before you, unable to believe that someone as wonderful as you could actually be lying beside her. So, she would watch you sleep, just to reassure herself that you were real and that this life you shared together was not just a dream.

You’ll keep what happened after that to yourself.

Ah fuck it, you railed her into the mattress and gave her a limp she couldn’t shake for three days.

Olé!

Then there is Gus. Asparagus, for long. The beagle the pair of you got in year two of cohabitation.

You read a study a while back that told you that dogs behavioural habits actually tend to mirror those of their owners. And Gus was no different.

He’s impatient, has a serious case of fomo, and has a penchant to stand over your unconscious body and stare at you until you wake up.

Thank you very much Leah for your service.

His actions are purely food-motivated though, a trait you can’t fault him for. Gone are the days of oversleeping, for if you miss breakfast, you’re sure to wake up to the accusing brown eyes of Sir. Asparagus, silently reminding you of your responsibilities.

So with Leah’s side of the bed empty, and the unexpected lack of a cold snout poking into your forehead, that leaves only one option left.

“What are you doing up so early, Stinker?”

“Mum’s in the kitchen” comes the casual reply from your five-year-old.

Now that is a cause for concern.

Your eyebrows furrow slightly as you process Hazel’s words. Leah in the kitchen at this hour? It’s a rare occurrence, and one that usually spells trouble.

“Your mother’s in the kitchen?” you repeat, a note of surprise coloring your tired voice.

Hazel nods, her expression serious. “Yep, she said something about making pancakes”

You share a troubled glance with your daughter, both of you silently acknowledging the potential disaster imminently looming in the kitchen.

“We better go check on her” you say, taking a deep breath and swinging your legs out of bed. “Wouldn’t want her to burn down the house, would we?”

-

Just as you expected, Leah is cooking unsupervised. Well, Gus is there, but he’s more akin to a hoover than any form of qualified sous chef.

You’ll let him off. He doesn’t have opposable thumbs.

“Good morning” you say through a yawn as you pass over the threshold, Hazel trudging in behind you, her bare feet slapping on the tile.

“Morning gorgeous” she says automatically, then stills before she swivels on the spot. “Wait, what are you doing out of bed?”

“A little birdy told me you needed reinforcements” you tell her as you kiss her on the cheek, precariously eyeing the spitting oil and batter from over her shoulder.

Leah’s eyes slide over to Hazel who has perched herself at the kitchen island. “What happened to letting your ma sleep, hazelnut?” She chides.

“I’m fine” you insist, flipping a pancake on your wife’s behalf. “We’re fine”

Leah arches an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on her lips as she glances between you and Hazel. “You’re sure about that?” she asks, her tone unconvinced. “You know, you’re not supposed to be doing all the heavy lifting around here”

You chuckle, and turn the gas off now all pancakes are stacked on their respective plates. “I know, I know,” you reply, waving off her worries. “But I’ve got it under control. Besides, I’m actually looking forward to eating food that’s not cremated”

“Same”

Leah turns towards her daughter again, “hey you! What’s gotten into you this morning?”

“Hungry” she shrugs. And you can’t blame her, you’ve been ravenous for months.

[pedroscowgirl]

love beyond boundaries

hugh jackman x afab!reader

masterlist (part 1,2 & 3 are here)

warnings: smut! minors, dni!

pregnancy/babytalk , a little angst(no bad stuff), breeding kink, age gap (reader is in her twenties, hugh is 55), creampie , p in v (wrap it up ironic use here) uh lmk if i forgot something

summary: you and hugh visit blake , ryan and their kids but what if it hits you that his kids need to know about your relationship aswell?

Words: 9.6k

a/n: we're gonna pretend like blake is a good person here lol but if you don't like baby/breeding stuff pls feel free to skip this chapter <3

also, i didn't really proofread this because it's 6 am here (I feel like I could've written this better😭)

On one particular afternoon, you all gathered at Ryan and Blake's home for a casual get-together. The sun was shining brightly, casting a warm glow over the backyard where the children were playing. Their laughter filled the air, a joyful symphony that made the day feel perfect. You and Blake joined in the fun, running around with the kids, your hearts light and your spirits high. Blake was a natural with the children, and you found yourself drawn into the carefree energy of the moment, the simple pleasure of play.

As you were chasing after one of the little ones, you noticed Ryan and Hugh standing off to the side, their heads close together in quiet conversation. At first, you didn't think much of it, assuming they were just catching up on something. But as you glanced over again, you caught sight of the serious expression on Ryan's face, and the way Hugh's smile seemed to falter as he listened to whatever Ryan was saying.

Ryan had pulled Hugh aside, away from the playful chaos of the backyard, and there was a gravity in his posture that hadn’t been there earlier. Ryan had always been the more easygoing of the two, but in that moment, his demeanor was different,more somber, as if he had been carrying something heavy on his mind for a while and had finally decided it was time to speak up.

"Hey man," Ryan started, his voice steady but tinged with hesitation, "I love that you're happy. I really do." His words were sincere, but there was a note of concern that made Hugh's expression shift. The relaxed, contented look that had been on Hugh's face throughout the day began to fade, replaced by a more serious, almost guarded, expression. He knew Ryan well enough to sense that something important was coming.

Ryan took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto Hugh’s as he continued, "But... don’t you think she’s a little too young for you?" There it was—the question that had been lingering unspoken, the one Ryan had clearly been wrestling with for some time. "I mean, I love you, man, but this... this just doesn’t seem like you. What happened to you liking older women? You know, women who are closer to your age?"

Hugh’s expression tightened, his eyes narrowing slightly as he listened. Ryan wasn’t finished, though. He was trying to be as gentle as possible, but he couldn’t hide his worry. "She's in the same age range as your kids, Hugh. I know you're in love, and I can see that she makes you happy, but I just can't help but wonder if you've really thought this through."

The words hung in the air between them, heavy with the weight of Ryan's concern. It was clear that this conversation wasn’t just a passing thought for him—it was something he genuinely felt needed to be addressed, out of love and friendship. Hugh remained silent for a moment, his gaze dropping to the ground as he absorbed what Ryan was saying. He had known this might come up eventually, but hearing it from Ryan, his close friend, made it all the more real.

Ryan’s tone wasn’t accusatory, nor was it judgmental. It was filled with the kind of care that only a true friend could offer, someone who wasn’t afraid to ask the difficult questions because they cared too much not to. He wasn’t trying to undermine Hugh’s happiness; he was just trying to make sure that his friend was okay, that this relationship was truly what Hugh wanted and needed.

Hugh finally looked up, meeting Ryan’s gaze with a serious look of his own. The easy going atmosphere of the afternoon seemed a world away now, as the two men stood there, the sound of the children's laughter in the background contrasting sharply with the weight of their conversation. Hugh opened his mouth to respond, but for a moment, no words came out. He was thinking, considering everything that had been said. He knew Ryan was coming from a place of love, but that didn’t make the question any easier to answer.

The pause stretched on, and when Hugh finally spoke, his voice was calm but firm. "I hear you, Ryan. I get what you’re saying, and I appreciate that you care enough to talk to me about this. But..." He hesitated, searching for the right way to express what he was feeling. "But this isn’t about age for me. It’s about how she makes me feel—alive, understood, like I can be myself again. It’s different, yeah, but that doesn’t mean it’s wrong."

Ryan listened, his expression softening as he heard the conviction in Hugh’s voice. It was clear that Hugh had thought about this more than Ryan had realized, that this wasn’t just some fleeting infatuation. Still, Ryan couldn’t shake his concern, and he knew this conversation was far from over. But for now, he simply nodded, offering a small, understanding smile, even as his mind continued to turn over the implications of what they had just discussed.

As they stood there, the distance between them bridged by their shared history and mutual respect, the sounds of the playful scene in the background seemed to fade into focus again, reminding them both of the here and now, and the importance of the choices they were making.

After their conversation, Hugh and Ryan rejoined the group, but there was an unspoken tension lingering in the air. Hugh’s mood had shifted slightly,he was still present, still engaged with the kids and with you, but there was a weight to his movements, a contemplative look in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. You noticed, of course, sensing that something was off, but decided not to press him about it just yet. The afternoon was still meant to be enjoyed, and you didn’t want to disrupt the lighthearted atmosphere.

As the day wore on and the sun began to dip lower in the sky, Blake suggested that everyone move inside for dinner. The kids were getting tired, their energy waning, and it seemed like the perfect time to shift gears. You helped Blake in the kitchen, preparing a simple meal while Hugh and Ryan stayed with the kids in the living room. There was a sense of domesticity that felt comforting, as if you were all a part of the same family, sharing in the little moments that make life feel rich and full.

But even as you chopped vegetables and Blake stirred a pot on the stove, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Hugh. He was talking to Ryan, smiling at something one of the kids said, but there was still that shadow in his eyes, something unresolved that tugged at your heart.

Once dinner was ready, you all gathered around the table. The conversation was light and easy, filled with laughter and stories from the past, but you could tell that Ryan was still watching Hugh closely, as if waiting for a sign, some indication that everything was truly okay. And Hugh, ever the actor, was doing his best to mask any inner turmoil, though you could see the subtle signs—the way his fingers tapped restlessly against the table, the slight delay in his responses.

After dinner, as the kids settled down for the evening with a movie, you and Hugh found a moment alone. You had stepped outside to get some fresh air, and he joined you, the two of you standing together on the porch, the cool night air brushing against your skin.

Hugh leaned against the railing, staring out into the darkening yard, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. You reached out, gently placing a hand on his arm, drawing his attention back to you. "Hey," you said softly, "is everything okay?"

He turned to you, and for a moment, the mask slipped. His eyes were tired, filled with a mixture of emotions that he had been holding back all evening. "Ryan said something earlier," he admitted, his voice low. "He’s worried about us. About the age difference, mostly."

You nodded, not entirely surprised. You had sensed that something like this might come up eventually. "And what do you think?" you asked, your voice calm and steady, though your heart was beating a little faster.

Hugh sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I think... I think he has a point, in some ways. But at the same time, I know what I feel for you is real. It’s not about how old you are or how old I am. It’s about the connection we have, about how you make me feel alive in a way I haven’t felt in years."

You listened, your hand still resting on his arm, offering silent support. "But I can’t ignore what he said," Hugh continued, his brow furrowing in thought. "It’s not just about us, it’s about how this affects everyone around us—my kids, our friends... I don’t want to hurt anyone."

The sincerity in his voice was clear, and it made your heart ache a little. "Hugh," you said gently, "I understand where Ryan is coming from, and I know this isn’t easy. But what we have... it’s worth figuring out. We can take things slow, make sure this is what we both want and that we’re doing what’s best for everyone involved."

He looked at you then, really looked at you, and you could see the conflict in his eyes, the way he was torn between his feelings for you and his loyalty to those he cared about. "I want this to work," he said finally, his voice thick with emotion. "I want us to work. But I also need to make sure that it’s the right thing, for everyone."

You nodded, your heart swelling with affection for this man who was trying so hard to do the right thing. "We’ll figure it out together," you assured him. "Whatever happens, we’ll face it as a team. I’m not going anywhere, Hugh."

He smiled then, a small, grateful smile, and pulled you into a gentle embrace. As you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the night surrounding you like a protective cloak, you knew that this was just the beginning of a journey,one that would have its challenges, but also its moments of deep connection and understanding.

The days that followed were filled with a delicate balance. Hugh was more thoughtful, more introspective, and while he didn’t bring up the conversation with Ryan again immediately, you could tell it was still on his mind. You continued to spend time together, both as a couple and with your friends, but there was a newfound awareness in everything you did. It was as if you were both testing the waters, seeing how this relationship fit into the wider fabric of your lives.

One evening, a week or so later, you and Hugh decided to have dinner at his place, just the two of you. It was a quiet night, with the kind of easy conversation that flowed naturally between you. But as you were finishing up, Hugh suddenly set down his fork and looked at you with an intensity that took you by surprise.

"I’ve been thinking a lot about what Ryan said," he began, his tone serious. "And about us. I’ve realized that I need to talk to my kids about this, about us. They deserve to know, and I want them to hear it from me."

You felt a flutter of nerves at the mention of his children, but you knew he was right. This was an important step, one that couldn’t be avoided if your relationship was going to move forward. "How do you think they’ll react?" you asked, your voice soft, but steady.

Hugh sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I’m not sure. They’re good kids, and they love me, but this is... different. It’s not something they’re used to, and I don’t know how they’ll take it. But I owe it to them to be honest."

You reached across the table, taking his hand in yours. "You’re a good father, Hugh. They’ll see that, and they’ll see how much you care about them. Whatever happens, we’ll handle it together."

He squeezed your hand, a small smile playing on his lips. "Thank you. I’m just... I’m nervous. I don’t want to lose them, and I don’t want to lose you."

"You won’t lose me," you assured him, your voice filled with quiet conviction. "We’re in this together, remember?"

He nodded, a look of determination settling over his features. "Yeah, we are."

------------------------------------------

The next few days were a whirlwind of emotions as Hugh prepared to talk to his children. He spent a lot of time thinking about how to approach the conversation, wanting to be as open and honest as possible, but also sensitive to their feelings. You gave him the space he needed, offering support when he asked for it, but also stepping back when he needed to figure things out on his own.

Finally, the day came. Hugh invited his children over to his place for dinner, a casual gathering that had become a regular occurrence. They arrived, bringing with them the usual energy and chatter, but Hugh could tell they sensed something different in his demeanor. He was trying to stay relaxed, but there was a nervousness he couldn’t completely hide.

After dinner, when they were all settled in the living room, Hugh took a deep breath and began. "There’s something I need to talk to you about," he said, his voice steady but serious. The room quieted, his children turning their attention to him with a mix of curiosity and concern.

He took another breath, then continued. "I’ve met someone. Someone who’s become very important to me. And I want to be honest with you about it."

His children exchanged glances, clearly surprised, but they didn’t interrupt, waiting for him to explain.

"The thing is," Hugh went on, "she’s younger than me. Quite a bit younger, actually. And I know that might be surprising, maybe even hard to understand, but I want you to know that this is something I’ve thought a lot about. She makes me happy, and I feel like this relationship is good for me."

After Hugh’s revelation, the silence in the living room felt heavy, almost suffocating. He could see the discomfort etched on both his son’s and daughter’s faces as they struggled to process what he had just shared.

His son, the older of the two, was the first to speak. He leaned back, crossing his arms, and looked at his father with a mix of confusion and discomfort. “Dad,” he began slowly, as if trying to choose his words carefully, “I don’t really know what to say. This… this is kind of weird. I mean, she’s almost our age.”

Hugh felt a sharp pang in his chest at his son’s words, but he nodded, understanding the reaction. “I know it’s unexpected,” Hugh replied, keeping his voice calm. “And I know it’s a big adjustment. But this is important to me, and I wouldn’t have brought it up if I didn’t think it mattered.”

His daughter, the younger of the two, was quieter, her brow furrowed deeply as she tried to make sense of everything. She looked at her father with wide, uncertain eyes. “Dad, are you sure about this?” she asked, her voice soft and hesitant. “It’s just… I don’t know how to feel about it. She’s so young, and it feels strange.”

Hugh’s heart ached hearing the uncertainty and discomfort in his daughter’s voice. He wanted to reassure her, to make everything okay, but he knew this was a situation with no easy answers. “I understand it feels strange,” Hugh said gently. “And I don’t expect you to be completely okay with it right away. But I need you to know that this isn’t something I’m taking lightly. I care about her deeply, and she makes me happy in a way I haven’t been in a long time.”

His son exchanged a look with his sister, his expression still troubled. “But what about the fact that she’s closer to our age than yours? Doesn’t that bother you at all?”

Hugh took a deep breath, knowing this conversation was going to be difficult. “It’s something I’ve thought about a lot,” he admitted. “But the connection we have goes beyond age. I know it might seem strange from the outside, but when I’m with her, it feels right. I feel like I’ve found something special, something that I didn’t even know I was missing.”

His daughter bit her lip, still looking conflicted. “But what if it doesn’t work out, Dad? What if she decides she wants someone closer to her own age? Or what if people start talking? I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Her words struck Hugh deeply, and he could see the genuine concern in her eyes. “I understand your worries,” Hugh said softly. “And I’ve thought about those things too. But I can’t let fear stop me from pursuing something that makes me happy. Life is short, and I want to make the most of it.”

His son sighed, running a hand through his hair, still struggling to process his father’s words. “I just… I don’t know, Dad. This whole thing is so out of left field. I’m not saying you shouldn’t be happy, but it’s going to take some time for me to wrap my head around this.”

Hugh nodded, his heart heavy but understanding. “I’m not asking you to be okay with it right away,” he said. “All I’m asking is that you try to understand where I’m coming from. And that you give her a chance. She’s important to me, and I want her to be a part of our lives.”

His daughter looked down at her hands, clearly wrestling with her emotions. “I’ll try, Dad,” she said quietly, though her voice lacked conviction. “But it’s going to take some time.”

His son nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I’ll try too. But just… don’t expect us to be totally cool with this right away. It’s a lot to take in.”

Hugh felt a wave of mixed emotions—relief that they were willing to try, but also a deep sadness that they were struggling so much with the news. He had known this wouldn’t be easy, but seeing the uncertainty and discomfort on their faces was harder than he had anticipated.

“I appreciate that,” Hugh said, his voice thick with emotion. “I really do. And I’m here to talk anytime you need to. I don’t want this to come between us.”

After a few more minutes of tense but civil conversation, his children decided to leave. They both hugged their father, but the embraces felt different—tentative, with a sense of distance that hadn’t been there before. Hugh watched them go, his heart heavy with worry about what this might mean for their relationship.

Later that night, Hugh called you. His voice sounded weary, as if the conversation had taken more out of him than he cared to admit. “I talked to them,” he said as soon as you answered. “It didn’t go as well as I’d hoped.”

Your heart sank at his words. “What did they say?” you asked gently, already bracing yourself for the answer.

“They’re weirded out by it,” Hugh admitted, the sadness in his voice clear. “My son said it feels strange because you’re closer to their age than mine, and my daughter is worried I’m going to get hurt. They said they’ll try to understand, but… it’s going to take time.”

You took a deep breath, trying to process what he was telling you. “I’m sorry, Hugh. I never wanted to cause any tension between you and your kids.”

“It’s not your fault,” Hugh said quickly, his tone firm. “This is on me, and I knew it might be difficult. I just didn’t realize how much it would affect them. But I’m not giving up on us. I just… I need to find a way to help them see what I see.”

“We’ll figure it out together,” you said, your voice filled with quiet determination. “We’ll take it slow, and give them the time they need to adjust. I care about you, Hugh, and I care about your kids too. I want this to work for all of us.”

Hugh sighed, a mixture of exhaustion and gratitude in his voice. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you. It’s just… it’s hard, seeing them struggle with this. But I know we can get through it.”

In the days and weeks that followed, the tension between Hugh and his children didn’t fully dissipate. They were polite, but there was a noticeable distance between them, an awkwardness that hadn’t been there before. Hugh did his best to maintain their bond, continuing to spend time with them, but the easy, natural closeness they once shared felt strained.

You found yourself in a challenging position as well. You wanted to give Hugh’s children the space they needed, but you also wanted to show them that you were committed to their father and to making this relationship work. You made an effort to connect with them, to demonstrate that you were more than just a fleeting presence in Hugh’s life, but it was clear that it would take time for them to come around.

Despite the challenges, you and Hugh remained close, your bond growing stronger as you navigated the difficulties together. There were moments of doubt, moments when the weight of it all felt overwhelming, but you both knew that what you had was worth fighting for.

One day, after a particularly tense family gathering, Hugh sat down with you, his expression troubled. “I’m worried that this is going to push them away,” he confessed, his voice filled with a vulnerability that he rarely showed. “I don’t want to lose them, but I also don’t want to lose you. I don’t know how to make this work.”

You reached out, taking his hand in yours. “We’ll keep trying,” you said softly. “It’s not going to be easy, but I believe that with time, they’ll see that this is real. That what we have is important.”

Hugh nodded, but the worry in his eyes didn’t fully disappear. “I hope you’re right. I just want everyone I care about to be okay with this.”

Later that night, after the tense conversation with his kids, Hugh felt an overwhelming need to talk to someone who could help him sort through his emotions. He picked up his phone and called Ryan, hoping for some clarity.

Ryan answered after a couple of rings, his voice cheerful as usual. “Hey, Hugh! What’s up?”

Hugh sighed deeply, the weight of the day pressing down on him. “I had a talk with my kids tonight. Told them about the relationship.”

Ryan’s tone immediately shifted, becoming more serious. “How did that go?”

“Not great,” Hugh admitted, leaning back against the couch. “They’re struggling with it. The age difference is really throwing them off. They’re trying to be supportive, but I can tell they’re uncomfortable.”

Ryan was silent for a moment, processing what Hugh had said. “I figured that might be tough for them,” he finally said. “But, Hugh, i have to ask again… is this really the right relationship for you?”

Hugh’s heart skipped a beat at Ryan’s question, and he felt a wave of doubt start to creep in. “What do you mean now?” he asked.

“I’m not doubting your feelings,” Ryan replied gently. “But there are practical things to consider. Like… what if she wants kids? Are you really ready to be a father again at this stage in your life?”

Hugh went silent, the question hitting him harder than he’d expected. It was something that had been lurking in the back of his mind, but he hadn’t confronted it directly. “I don’t know,” he admitted finally. “I haven’t talked to her about it yet.”

Ryan’s voice was steady, but there was concern there too. “You need to. This isn’t something you can just hope won’t come up. She’s young, Hugh. If she wants kids, that’s a huge part of her life she might be looking forward to. Are you ready to do that all over again? The sleepless nights, the diapers, raising a child from the ground up? Because that’s not just a small part of your life,it’s a whole new chapter.”

Hugh swallowed hard, the reality of Ryan’s words settling in. “I know it’s a big deal,” he said, his voice quieter now. “But I haven’t even asked her if she wants kids. Maybe she doesn’t.”

“And maybe she does,” Ryan countered gently but firmly. “And what then? Are you going to be okay with starting over as a new father? Are you willing to take that on, knowing how much it will change your life? And what about your kids? How are they going to feel about a new sibling who’s closer in age to them than you?”

Hugh leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at the floor. “I honestly don’t know if I’m ready for that. The idea of having more kids… it’s overwhelming. But at the same time, I don’t want to lose what we have.”

Ryan was quiet for a moment, letting Hugh’s words sink in. “Look, man,” he said softly, “I’m not saying you should walk away from her if she wants kids. But you’ve got to be honest with yourself,and with her. If you’re not up for being a father again, that’s something you need to make clear. Because if you’re not on the same page about this, it could lead to a lot of pain down the road, for both of you.”

Hugh nodded, even though Ryan couldn’t see him. “You’re right. I can’t keep avoiding this. I need to talk to her about it, and I need to be honest with myself too. I just… I don’t want to lose her.”

“I get that,” Ryan said, his voice full of empathy. “But sometimes the hardest conversations are the ones that matter the most. You’ve got to figure out what you’re willing to do, and what you’re not. And you’ve got to be okay with the fact that it might mean things don’t turn out the way you want.”

Hugh felt the weight of those words settle in his chest, a mix of fear and uncertainty gnawing at him. “Yeah,” he said finally, his voice heavy with emotion. “I need to talk to her. I can’t keep this to myself any longer.”

“Good,” Ryan replied, his tone supportive. “You’ll figure it out, Hugh. Just make sure you’re doing what’s right for you, and for her. This is too important to leave unresolved.”

As Hugh ended the call, he felt the gravity of the situation pressing down on him. The next step was clear, but it wasn’t going to be easy. He cared deeply for you, but the question of children—and what kind of future you both wanted,was something that couldn’t be ignored. He knew he had to confront it, no matter how daunting the conversation might be

The next day, a heavy weight hung over Hugh, the kind that lingered long after his conversation with Ryan. The questions Ryan had posed echoed relentlessly in his mind, refusing to be silenced. Each reverberation made it clearer to Hugh that he could no longer avoid the inevitable. He needed to have a serious conversation with you, one that had the potential to shape the trajectory of your relationship in ways he couldn’t fully predict. As much as he dreaded this discussion, he knew it was necessary, an unavoidable step if there was to be any future between the two of you.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

When you arrived at his house that afternoon, it was immediately clear that something was off. Hugh, who was typically so warm and lighthearted, greeted you with a tension in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. It was subtle but unmistakable, a storm brewing beneath the surface of his usual calm demeanor. After a few minutes of polite small talk that did little to ease the growing tension, Hugh took your hand in his, the warmth of his touch laced with a new sense of urgency. Without a word, he led you to the living room, where you both sat down on the couch.

“There’s something I need to talk to you about,” Hugh began, his voice steady but carrying a gravity that was impossible to ignore. He squeezed your hand, his gaze searching yours as he struggled to find the right words. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us, about our future. And there’s something important we need to discuss.”

Your heart quickened, sensing the seriousness in his tone. “Of course, Hugh. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.”

Hugh took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your stomach tighten. “I care about you so much, and I love what we have together. But Ryan brought up some things that I’ve been avoiding, things I didn’t want to face. But I need to be honest with you and with myself.”

You could see the internal battle he was waging, the way his words came slowly, carefully, as if each one had been weighed a thousand times before being spoken aloud.

He hesitated for a moment, then continued, his voice softer now. “The thing is… you’re at a point in your life where you might want things that I’m not sure I’m ready for. Like kids. I’ve already raised mine, and the idea of starting over… it’s a lot to think about. I need to know what you want because if you’re hoping to have children one day, I don’t want to hold you back or disappoint you.”

The sincerity in his words struck you deeply. It was clear how much this conversation cost him, the concern drawn in every line of his face, the way his eyes searched yours for reassurance. You felt a pang of empathy and love for him, seeing how hard he was trying to protect you, even at the cost of his own peace of mind.

You reached out, taking his hand in both of yours, your touch gentle but firm. A reassuring smile played on your lips as you met his worried gaze.

“Hugh,” you said softly, your voice steady and calm, “I’ve thought about this too. I know it’s something we need to talk about, but the truth is, it doesn’t matter to me what the future holds as long as we’re together. If having kids isn’t something you want, then it’s not something I need. I want to be with you, and that’s what’s most important to me.”

A flicker of relief crossed Hugh’s face, though it was tempered by lingering doubt. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to regret anything later on.”

You nodded, your expression unwavering, your eyes locked on his. “I’m sure. I’ve never been more certain of anything. I don’t need children to be happy, Hugh. I just need you.”

For a moment, Hugh just looked at you, the tension in his shoulders slowly melting away as your words sank in. His grip on your hand tightened slightly, a silent thank you that spoke volumes more than any words could. “Thank you for saying that,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I just didn’t want to lead you into something that would make you unhappy later on.”

You leaned in closer, resting your head on his shoulder for a brief moment, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. It was a small gesture, but it spoke of trust, of understanding, of the deep connection that had grown between you. You pulled back just enough to look at him, your face inches from his.

“I understand why you’re worried,” you said, your voice soft but resolute. “But I promise you, my happiness comes from being with you. I’m in this for us, not for anything else.”

Hugh’s heart swelled with affection as he gazed at you, his eyes softening with a tenderness that made your own heart flutter. He reached up to brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering as he cupped your cheek. “I’m so lucky to have you in my life,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

A warm smile spread across your face at his words, and you could feel the tension in the room dissipating, replaced by a comforting sense of mutual understanding. But as you sat there, a playful glint sparked in your eyes, a mischievous idea forming in your mind. Without a word, you shifted, slowly straddling his lap, your movements deliberate and teasing. You could feel his body react to your closeness, the atmosphere between you shifting from serious to something far more primal.

You leaned in close, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered in a voice that was both sultry and teasing, “But you know, what if I did stopped taking birth control, and you just breed me like a fucking slut? If you ever want to have babies, my womb is right here.”

You bit your lip, pulling back just enough to look him in the eye, the challenge and desire clear in your expression. The shock on Hugh’s face quickly gave way to laughter, a deep, hearty sound that filled the room. But as his laughter subsided, you felt him growing hard beneath you, the tension between you transforming into something electric, charged with unspoken possibilities.

Hugh cupped your face with one hand, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he looked up at you with a mix of amusement and arousal. “You’re something else, you know that?” he said, his voice rough with desire.

You grinned, feeling the heat between you intensify, your body responding to his touch. “I know. So, what do you say, Hugh? Want to take me up on that offer?”

His hands slid down to your hips, gripping you firmly as he pulled you even closer. “You’re driving me crazy,” he muttered, his voice low and thick with need. “But I’m getting used to it.”

Without another word, you leaned down, capturing his lips in a heated kiss, the intensity between you growing with each passing second. The conversation from moments before faded into the background as your bodies pressed together, the connection between you burning brighter than ever. The future might still be uncertain, but in that moment, all that mattered was the undeniable chemistry you shared, the passion that flared between you, and the love that anchored it all.

Hugh gently scooped you up into his arms, his strength evident in the ease with which he lifted you. His hands were warm against your back, and you felt the security of his embrace as he carried you through the hallway. Each step he took was deliberate, his gaze never leaving yours, a mixture of affection and desire swirling in his eyes. The dim light from the hallway lamps cast a golden glow around you both, heightening the intimacy of the moment.

As he carried you into the bedroom, the door swung open with a gentle push from his foot. The room was a sanctuary, bathed in the soft, silver light of the moon that streamed through the partially drawn curtains. The air was filled with the subtle scent of fresh linen, and the faint hum of the night outside added to the serenity. Hugh set you down on the bed with such care, as if you were something precious, something to be treasured. The mattress yielded under your weight, the plush sheets cool against your skin as you sank into them.

Hovering above you, Hugh's presence was commanding, yet tender. He supported himself on his arms, his face close to yours, and the warmth of his breath brushed against your lips. His eyes, deep and dark, searched yours, finding in them the same longing and desire that burned within him. The world outside ceased to exist, it was just the two of you, entwined in this moment.

Your heart raced as you looked up at him, your gaze filled with a hunger that mirrored his own. With a voice that dripped with seduction, you whispered, "Wouldn't you love to knock me up, daddy? Imagine it… Filling me up with you every single day, feeling your warmth inside me. Watching as my body changes, knowing that it's because of you. My belly growing rounder, fuller, with our child. My breasts swelling, becoming heavier, just for you…"

The words you spoke were laced with an intoxicating blend of innocence and temptation, a fantasy you painted with vivid clarity. Hugh's reaction was immediate, his eyes darkened further, pupils dilating with the intensity of his arousal. He swallowed hard, his breathing growing deeper as he processed what you'd said. He let out a low, almost primal hum of approval, the sound vibrating through the air between you.

"Hmm, that would be nice, yes," he murmured, his voice thick and gravelly with need. There was a flicker of doubt in his expression as he added with a soft chuckle, "But I'm an old man, baby."

You could feel his reluctance, his hesitation born from the years that separated you, yet it did nothing to diminish your desire. If anything, it only fuelled your need to reassure him, to show him that age meant nothing to you. You reached up, your fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer until his forehead rested against yours. "That's fine," you whispered, your voice tender yet filled with certainty. "I want it all with you, Hugh. Every part of you. Always."

Your words seemed to wash over him, easing the tension from his body. He dipped his head, capturing your lips in a kiss that was as much a promise as it was an expression of his desire. The kiss was slow, deliberate, his lips moving against yours with a gentleness that belied the fire burning within him. His hands began to explore your body, tracing the curves and contours with a reverence that made your skin tingle with anticipation.

He started at your hips, his fingers trailing along the waistband of your clothing before he began to undress you, piece by piece. Each article of clothing was removed with care, as if he were unwrapping a gift he had waited his entire life to open. His eyes followed his hands, drinking in every inch of exposed skin with a hunger that made your breath catch in your throat.

When you were finally bare before him, he paused, his gaze lingering on your chest. The sight of your breasts, soft and inviting, seemed to captivate him. He stared, his eyes filled with a mix of awe and lust, as if he were seeing something sacred. You could feel his breath hitch, the air between you thick with the weight of his desire.

A slow smile spread across your lips as you noticed his fixation. You felt a surge of confidence, knowing how much he adored you, how much he wanted you. With a teasing lilt in your voice, you broke the silence. "Thinking about something, Daddy?"

The question hung in the air, playful yet charged with meaning. Hugh's eyes snapped back to yours, his gaze burning with intensity. For a moment, he said nothing, simply letting the question sink in, letting the desire between you build to a fever pitch. Then, with a low, rumbling chuckle, he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "I’m thinking about how much I want to make you mine. Every inch of you."

You gazed up at Hugh, your heart swelling with the intensity of the moment, your voice soft but filled with unshakable certainty. "I'm already yours, Hugh," you whispered, the words slipping from your lips like a sacred vow. The sincerity in your tone seemed to reach deep into his soul, igniting a fire that had been burning for far too long. His eyes darkened with desire, and without another word, he leaned in, his lips finding the delicate curve of your neck.

He kissed you there, his mouth hot against your skin, each press of his lips sending electric shocks of pleasure through your body. He moved slowly, savouring the taste of you, his tongue darting out to tease the sensitive spot just below your ear. You shivered at the sensation, your body instinctively arching towards him, craving more of his touch.

A low, satisfied hum escaped his lips, the sound vibrating against your neck, sending a wave of warmth straight to your core. "Hmm, I want more of you," he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper that made your breath hitch. The depth of his need was palpable, wrapping around you like a physical force, making your heart race and your skin tingle with anticipation.

You let out a soft moan, your hands wandering up his broad back, feeling the muscles shift beneath your fingertips. His skin was warm to the touch, and as you traced the contours of his body, you couldn't help but marvel at the man before you,the man who made you feel desired in a way you had never experienced before.

With deliberate movements, Hugh began to undress himself, his eyes locked on yours, watching your reaction as each piece of clothing fell away. First, his shirt, revealing the strong, defined chest that you had always admired. Then, his pants, leaving him gloriously bare before you. Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the sight of him, every inch of his body a testament to his strength and vitality.

"You know," you began, your voice laced with admiration as your eyes roamed over his form, "you don't look like an old man at all. That body is amazing." The words came out almost in a reverent whisper, as if you were speaking your thoughts aloud without even realizing it.

He chuckled, the sound rich and warm, filling the room with a sense of comfort and familiarity. Leaning down, he captured your lips in a kiss, his mouth soft but insistent against yours. "Thank you, princess," he murmured between kisses, his voice tender yet filled with the heat of his desire.

His hands were on you again, exploring every curve, every dip of your body with a reverence that made you feel cherished and adored. He took his time, mapping out every inch of your skin as if committing it to memory. His touch was electric, leaving a trail of fire in its wake, igniting a burning need deep within you.

Finally, with a smooth, effortless motion, Hugh positioned himself above you. The heat radiating from his body mingled with your own, creating an intoxicating blend of desire and anticipation. As he slid into you, you gasped, the sensation overwhelming in the most delicious way.

"Awe, you're so wet for me," he whispered, his voice filled with awe and satisfaction. He revelled in the way your body responded to him, the way you welcomed him so eagerly. His words sent a jolt of pleasure through you, making your body tighten around him in response. You rolled your eyes playfully at his smugness, but the laughter that bubbled up from your throat betrayed your delight.

"Just fuck me already, like you're twenty," you teased, a daring smile playing on your lips. There was a playful challenge in your tone, a provocation that you knew he wouldn't ignore.

Hugh raised an eyebrow, a devilish grin spreading across his face as he accepted your challenge. "You know I fuck you better than any young man can," he chuckled, his voice dripping with confidence and desire. And with that, he began to move, his hips rolling against yours in a rhythm that started slow and deliberate, each thrust measured and precise, designed to drive you wild.

As he moved within you, your mind began to drift, fueled by the fantasies you had been nurturing for so long. The heat between you intensified, and with it, a thought took root in your mind, one you could no longer suppress. You had been toying with the idea for a while now, the thought of what it would be like to let go completely, to give yourself to him in the most primal way possible.

Your breath quickened as the thought grew more insistent, a desire that you could no longer ignore. "Hugh," you breathed, your voice trembling with a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

He paused, his movements slowing as he looked down at you, concern flickering in his eyes. "What is it, baby?" he asked, his voice gentle, yet tinged with worry.

You hesitated for a moment, the words caught in your throat, but the intensity of your need overpowered your doubts. "I… I want to stop taking birth control," you confessed, the words spilling out before you could second-guess them. "I want you to cum inside me, for real. I want you to make me pregnant."

The impact of your words hit him like a freight train, and for a moment, he simply stared at you, his brain struggling to process what you had just said. His eyes widened slightly, the intensity of his gaze deepening as the full weight of your confession settled over him.

"You're serious?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing.

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest as you reached up to cup his face in your hands. "Yes, Hugh. I want this. I want you to fill me up with your seed, to watch my belly grow with your child. I want to see the way you look at me when you know I've got your baby inside me. I need it."

A primal growl rumbled low in Hugh's throat, his control slipping away as your words broke down the last of his restraint. The thought of you swollen with his child, carrying his legacy, was enough to send his desire spiralling out of control. "Fuck, baby," he groaned, his voice thick with need. "You really want this? You want me to breed you?"

"Yes," you gasped, your body trembling with anticipation. "I want it more than anything. Please, Hugh, give it to me."

That was all he needed to hear. His composure shattered, replaced by an overwhelming urge to claim you, to mark you as his in the most primal way possible. He surged forward, his hips driving into you with a force that made you cry out in pleasure. His movements were no longer controlled, they were wild, frantic, driven by the need to fulfil the promise he had made to you.

"I’m going to fuck you so good," he growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. “I'm going to fill you up with my cum until you're dripping with it. You want to be my breeding slut? You want to carry my baby?"

"Yes!" you moaned, your body arching beneath him as he pounded into you with relentless intensity. "I want to be your breeding slut. I want to carry your baby, Hugh!"

His pace quickened, his movements becoming more erratic as he lost himself in the sensation of you wrapped around him. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, deeper, as he thrust into you with a fervor that bordered on desperation. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered filthy things, his breath hot against your skin.

The room was filled with the sounds of your bodies coming together, the wet slap of skin against skin, the creak of the bed beneath you, and your combined moans of pleasure. Hugh's words sent you spiraling, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. "Fuck, you're so amazing" he groaned, his voice hoarse with need. "So fucking perfect. I'm going to cum so deep inside you. You're going to feel me for days, baby."

His words, his relentless pace, everything was too much, and you could feel your climax building, the tension coiling tightly within you. You were close, so close, and you could tell he was too, the way his movements were becoming more frantic, more desperate.

And then, as the pleasure reached a fever pitch, you screamed out in desperation, "Fuck, make me pregnant, Daddy! I wanna have your kids so fucking bad!"

The sound of your voice, the raw need in your words, was his undoing. With a guttural roar, he let go completely, his hips slamming into yours with a ferocity that left you gasping for breath. He drove into you harder, faster, his body shaking with the force of his impending release.

You felt the world slip away, your vision blurring as the pleasure overwhelmed you, your body tightening around him as you reached your peak. The orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, pulling you under, making you scream his name as your body convulsed beneath him.

Hugh followed you over the edge, his release crashing into him with the same ferocity. He buried himself deep inside you, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm as he spilled into you, filling you up with his seed. The sensation was overwhelming, a flood of warmth that spread through your core, marking you as his in the most primal way possible.

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still, the only sounds in the room were your ragged breaths and the pounding of your hearts, still echoing in your ears. Hugh collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms, his body still trembling from the intensity of what had just happened. His chest rose and fell heavily, and he buried his face in your hair, pressing soft kisses to the top of your head as you both came down from the euphoric high.

Your body felt like it was floating, still tingling with the aftershocks of your climax. The warmth of Hugh's embrace grounded you, and you nestled closer into his side, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your cheek. The room was filled with a heavy, heady silence, both of you too overwhelmed to speak, lost in the aftermath of the storm you'd just weathered together.

After what felt like an eternity, Hugh finally broke the silence, his voice still rough with lingering desire. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern lacing his tone as he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. His dark eyes searched yours, seeking reassurance, a flicker of worry crossing his face as if he feared he might have gone too far.

You smiled softly, lifting your hand to brush a strand of hair from his forehead, your touch tender as you reassured him. "More than okay," you whispered, your voice still breathless. "That was incredible, Hugh. I've never felt anything like that."

His eyes softened, the corners crinkling with a smile as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment as if savoring the feel of you. "Good," he murmured against your skin, his breath warm and comforting. "I just… you drive me wild, you know that?"

Your heart swelled at his words, and you nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. You felt the same way about him,he brought out a side of you that was uninhibited, raw, and utterly devoted to him. It was exhilarating, and you craved more.

As you lay there, still entwined in each other's arms, the reality of what you'd just done began to settle in. You'd crossed a line, opened a door that couldn't easily be closed, and the thought thrilled you to your core. You'd asked him to make you pregnant, to fill you with his child, and he'd done it with a fervor that spoke to a deep, primal desire within him.

Hugh was the first to break the silence again, his voice soft but serious as he held you close. “So… do you really want kids after all?” His question was gentle, but it carried the weight of something much deeper.

You took a deep breath, considering your words carefully. “I want us to be happy,” you said finally, your voice soft but firm. “And if that means having kids, then maybe we’ll get there eventually. But I’m also scared, Hugh. Scared of what it would mean for you, for us. We have to think about your age, about the time we have…”

He nodded, his eyes serious as he listened to you. “I know,” he murmured. “I think about that too. But we have to face the reality of where we are right now. We can’t ignore it.”

The room was filled with a heavy silence as you both contemplated the gravity of the situation. It wasn’t just about desire or love, it was about time, about the ticking clock that neither of you could stop. You loved Hugh with all your heart, but you couldn’t deny the fear that gnawed at you, the fear that time might not be on your side.

After a long pause, you sighed, leaning your head against his chest as you tried to push aside the worries that plagued you. “Maybe we’ll just see what happens, Hugh,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “This is just the beginning of our journey together. We don’t have to decide everything right now.”

Hugh’s arms tightened around you, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re right,” he agreed, his voice thick with emotion. “We’ve got time to figure things out. But it’s something we’ll need to think about, sooner rather than later.”

You nodded, the weight of his words settling over you like a blanket. The reality of your situation was something you couldn’t ignore, no matter how much you wanted to. But for now, you were together, and that was what mattered most.

Hugh shifted slightly, his hand running gently up and down your back as he continued to speak. “Before we even get to that point, we need to think about other things too,” he said, his tone more serious now. “Like announcing our relationship to the public. We’ll need to do it slowly, subtly.”

You smiled at his words, appreciating the thoughtfulness behind them, but you couldn’t help the small pang of anxiety that tugged at the back of your mind. The idea of going public with your relationship was daunting, especially considering the scrutiny you both would face. But you knew it was something that would have to happen eventually.

“I know,” you replied, your voice steady but tinged with an underlying tension. “It makes sense, taking things slow. We have to be careful.”

But even as you said the words, the reality of what you were facing began to sink in. The public aspect of your relationship, the challenges of starting a family later in life, it all felt overwhelming, like a storm gathering on the horizon. You tried to push the thoughts aside, to focus on the here and now, but they lingered, a constant reminder of the complexities that lay ahead.

Hugh seemed to sense your unease, and he pulled you closer, his lips brushing against your temple in a gesture of comfort. “We’ll handle it together,” he promised, his voice firm and reassuring. “Whatever comes our way, we’ll face it as a team.”

His words were meant to soothe, and in many ways, they did. But they also served as a reminder of the challenges that lay ahead, challenges that you couldn’t ignore. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you tried to focus on the warmth of Hugh’s embrace, on the love that you knew would carry you through whatever came next.

“I know we will,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him. “But it’s just… a lot to think about.”

Hugh nodded, his lips pressing another soft kiss to your forehead before he settled back into the pillows, his arms still wrapped securely around you. “One step at a time, baby,” he murmured. “We don’t have to have all the answers right now.”

His words were a balm to your anxious thoughts, and you let out a small sigh of relief, allowing yourself to relax in his arms. The road ahead might be uncertain, but for now, you were together, and that was enough.

You smiled softly, feeling the tension begin to ease as you let yourself focus on the present moment, on the steady rhythm of his breathing. “We’ll figure it out, Hugh,” you said quietly. “No matter what, we’ll figure it out.”

He pressed a final, lingering kiss to your forehead before settling back into the pillows, his arms still wrapped securely around you. “Yes, we will,” he agreed, his voice filled with quiet determination.

And as you drifted off to sleep, you held onto that thought, letting it anchor you in the uncertain waters of the future. You didn’t have all the answers, and you didn’t know what lay ahead, but you knew that whatever it was, you would face it together, one step at a time.

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